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paper-mario-wiki · 5 months

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Shangri-La Frontier mid-season review

This is by far the best fake video game I've ever seen written in fiction.

Most MMO-centric isekai stories have trouble with providing accurate and realistic depictions of the complexities and minutia that give MMOs the allure they have. I've seen so much handwavey bullshit tacked onto fake-games that introduce unrealistically overlooked mechanics for reasons like giving the protag immense power just because they're the protag and the story is about them. A good example of this is another MMO Isekai airing this season, "A Playthrough of a Certain Dude's VRMMO Life", wherein the main character becomes extremely rich, powerful, and famous by episode 2 because he stumbled into a stealth archer playstyle, a build which apparently no human in that universe had ever conceived of before, and then making a fortune by selling basic potions to everyone after NPCs stopped selling them (another thing he was uniquely able to do because not a single other player had the forethought to spec into alchemy). These lesser, dime-a-dozen isekai add up to be boring fantasy strories with gaming elements clumsily put in so that the author can demonstrate how powerful the world's inhabitants are by showing their stat allocation screen instead of, say, explaining anything about what they do that's so uniquely powerful and how they figured it out. Ya know, stuff you'd hope to hear about from any competent story.

Shangri-La Frontier is a breath of fresh air for anyone who, like me, is sick of authors ignoring the things that actually make video games compelling in service of creating a stock-standard narratives in fantasy worlds because it allows them to get away with bullshit. I've always found it very convenient that many isekai narratives indulge in things like chattel slavery, because it's societally normal enough for the protag to purchase a beautiful, vulnerable girl to add to his harem (dont worry, she is always inexplicably in love with him no matter what because he's SUCH a kind master). And it never really seems to go anywhere. Because the Video Game Isekai, while an interesting premise in theory, is more often than not used exclusively as a means to simplify the structure of a world's power scaling to abide by an arbitrary set of omnipresent universal rules (e.g. what people who have never cared to look into game development think of video games). This anime, by comparison, is VERY clearly authored by someone who plays a LOT of games.

Every piece of logic used to drive the plot forward, so far, is congruent to a real-world example of video game conventions, and I'm not just talking about levelling up and selling monster parts. Story elements that I've rarely (if ever) seen explored in other isekai are ever-present and genuinely clever and amusingly introduced. My favorite example of this so far has been the way the protagonist has been able to go head to head with so many overlevelled foes in the first 9 episodes. The story of course makes note of how good of a gamer Sanraku (our hero) is, but much like in real life games, being super duper good at dodging attacks doesn't really make up for a 70 level gap in items and learned skills. For that reason, he gets his ass whooped more often than he actually outsmarts others (so far he hasn't beaten a single player in pvp). So how is he getting out of these situations without dying so frequently? Simple: he got access to a later area too early relative to his level (sequence break) and got access to a high level follower NPC that's been carrying him. This is something he acknowledges directly several times, specifically using words like "Emul has been hard-carrying me for a while." This, to me, is extraordinarily meaningful. That's something you can exploit in Skyrim, man. That's REALISTIC CHEESE STRATS. The excitement and wonder I find in this show doesn't come from watching the protag do something unexpected, but by watching him do something that I would think to do.

This knowledge the author has demonstrated regarding modern gaming culture extends further into the actual realistic nature of game design and community. The story exists in a reality where full-dive VRMMOs are the be-all-end-all of gaming, and given the prohibitively expensive nature of developing and designing expansive, immersive worlds, most games are pretty shit. It's been hinted at so far that this is due to a monopolistic megacorp which is one of the only entities rich and powerful enough to make a good game (the game in question being the one that shares the title of the anime), but so far the strife of the characters have been pretty centralized to the happenings of the game world and its politics. By the way, lets talk about the game world's player base politics, which I'm also quite pleased with. It exists in the form of guilds and clans who struggle for power not by participating in seemingly random pvp with other powerful players to see who is the most epic and badass warrior (again, like many contemporary isekai typically opt for), but by gaining actual realistic support from a fictional playerbase with realistic desires and playstyles. Some guilds are interested in lore, some gather for alliance and boss raids, some for things like animal husbandry, and (naturally) at least one is dedicated to trolling and PKing. Each of these factions, through the very little that we've seen of them so far, communicate on forums and only know as much as is reasonable for them to know. The only reason they give a shit about the protagonist at all is because he gained access to a high-level unique scenario quest that they want information on how to access, and the only reason word of that got out in the first place was because someone posted a screenshot of him with a unique NPC onto a forum, asking about it as "where can i find this pet summon, its super cute!" That's real. That's video games, baby.

I like this show a lot so far. I like that it cares about video games, but I also like its writing. I like the main character and how hes less of an ultra badass super cool guy, and more of an earnest challenge-run lets player. Like, a lot of his dialogue straight up sounds strikingly similar to Japanese youtubers. And he's naturally always quick to point out inconsistencies in the game world's logic. I ALSO really like his community of pals from a janky old fighting game, and I ADORE the girl from his school who has a crush on him and also just so happens to be an exceptionally high level player from a top clan, and how she had to spend 9 episodes working up the courage to send him a friend request. I love that so, so much, dude.

I highly recommend this show if you're into a single thing I've mentioned. The animation is great. The world is beautiful. The character design is immaculate. And I'm looking forward to watching it continue.

#text #shangri la frontier

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nicksbestie · 10 days

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Nooks And Crannies - M. Sturniolo

a series

part one

Summary : You always seem to be somewhere in the bookstore Matt works at, never buying anything, just reading, and while Matt is technically not supposed to talk to customers for so long while he's on the clock, he can't help himself.

Warnings : none yet!

Word Count : 1048

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : a series from me!! what a shock!! i hope i can actually keep this going <3 i'm such a sucker for soft matt, so here is bookworm matt !

Matt sighed as he opened the door to The Ivy, but it wasn’t a sigh of dread.

It was one of relief, one of anxiety rolling off of his shoulders. He felt so lucky to have a job that he genuinely enjoyed and paid him enough to be happy and comfortable. His work really was like a second home for him. It was a smaller, yet gorgeous, bookstore combined with a coffee shop, and all of it really had a home owned feel, because they weren’t part of any corporate line. They paid better than the corporate line did, and because they were on a popular street downtown, they brought in a great amount of profit compared to some other smaller stores.

Matt was the type of person to cover anyone’s shift because he genuinely would love to be at the bookshop. The money was just a bonus for him. Matt was an organizer, someone who was neat and tidy, and the bookshop gave him the room to do that, and combine it with one of his favorite interests, reading. He had been working this job for almost three years, having started it as his full time job just after he had graduated from high school, and he couldn’t see himself ever wanting to leave. He and his brothers had a comfortable home with three combined incomes, and he was truly happy.

As he clocked in, he smiled at the customer patiently waiting to check out books, waving them over to his register. Checkout wasn’t his favorite, he preferred to be working between the aisles of books, but he did still enjoy it. He didn’t think that there was a single part of his job that he actively disliked, because it was very rare that he dealt with someone who didn’t want to be in there. That was one of his favorite things about working in the store that he did, because it was a form of retail, but it wasn’t really retail. Nobody was in there because they had to be, besides the workers. They were all in there because they wanted to be, and because of that, they were generally much nicer to the employees.

Matt easily helped the person buy their books, complimenting the choices they’d made. Matt had read just about all of the best sellers in the shop, and continued to pick up the new books as they came in. He always struck up a conversation with everyone he checked out, regardless of how tired he was, or if he was having a bad day. He found himself really enjoying getting to share thoughts on his favorite books, give recommendations, and still get to enjoy the benefits of being paid for it. Sometimes customers would come back while he was working, and they would get to talk about their favorite moments of books that they had both read.

Once the line behind the checkout had cleared out, many conversations later, many book recommendations given out, and happy customers leaving, Matt logged out of the register, letting a coworker take over to train someone new, and he went to go help unload more books. That was his favorite part, because he got to read the back of all of the books, see which ones interested him, and then because he was the one putting them on the shelves, he knew exactly where they were and could go buy them while he was off the clock. He had a rule. He never bought new books the day that they were delivered, no matter how much he really wanted to. Sometimes they could sell out very quickly, but he always waited at least one day before buying them, so that someone who didn’t work there and wasn’t there all the time like he was could get a chance at getting them.

The Ivy was a gorgeous little store, and it really felt like a cozy little oasis in the middle of a busy downtown area. He loved all of the small, almost hidden, spots in the store, near windows in the back. There was one space that was hidden by a sliding bookshelf, and there was a handle there, but Matt had never seen anyone figure it out. They often pulled on it instead of sliding it, and when it didn’t move, they assumed that it was simply decorative. Matt always stayed there during his break, as the bookshelves surrounding that little nook were double-sided, and he had more books to pick up and read.

The Ivy drew people in, and once you sat in one of the comfortable seats by the window, you’d lose track of time, but it wouldn’t matter anyways, because you’d never want to leave. And no, Matt was definitely not speaking from experience. As much as Matt loved to help people find things that they would enjoy, stocking shelves really gave him some quiet time to just focus on his work and enjoy his surroundings. Matt was a people watcher. While he was stocking shelves, people simply ignored his presence. He didn’t take this personally, people often overlook the employees. This worked very well for him, as he got to observe people.

He saw all kinds of people. He saw couples who came in and bought books for each other, people who came in with headphones and a coffee and walked up and down the aisles, reading the backs of book after book, the little kids who came in and pored over the stickers and the coloring books, and the older people who flip through the magazines and never actually buy anything, but they walked out with a smile on their face. There were the regulars at the coffee shop that Matt saw walk through the bookstore portion, and the people who hung out over there as well. There weren’t a lot of regulars, but Matt tried his best to take notice of every person who came into the store.

It wasn’t until Matt went to take his break that he realized he had missed someone, which wouldn’t be a shock to him normally, as the place was usually quite busy. But this time, as he slid the bookshelf to the side, there was someone already sitting in his usual chair.

taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo @dazsha19 @patscorner @hailee22sstuff @tworosesblackthorn

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

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meowzfordayz · 4 months

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they're-both-so-helpless

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Word Count: ~600

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

Author’s Note: starting 2024 off w/ Kyojuro❣️ Began writing this while at work… winter makes for slow days when selling ice cream. 😆 Pt 2 coming ~soon aka prob within the next 24 hrs since my shift’s almost over lol.

emphasis-on-helpless, helplessly-in-love

Missing your boyfriend is tough… especially when he isn’t actually your boyfriend.

“He might as well be!” Mitsuri says whenever she’s with you, “I swear you check your phone at least twice as often ever since you became friends.” The tips of your ears warm, eyes glued to the newest Snap of Kyojuro’s cheerful face. “Will you at least show me?” Mitsuri huffs, head tilting to catch a glance, “Aww, he’s so cute!” “But he’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, quickly snapping a blurry photo of your melting ice cream. Eyes gleaming, Mitsuri hums knowingly, slinging a giddy arm around you without another word. You silently thank her gesture of respecting your privacy—something your other friend, Shinobu, rarely does—hurriedly eating a spoonful of your dessert as he snaps back: You got ice cream without me?! ☹️ I fear I am mortally wounded. 💔 You appease him with a Snap of your own frown, promising him i’ll bring u next time 🥺🍦 pointedly ignoring Mitsuri’s smooching noises when Kyojuro fires back with It’s a date! 😁😋 Sooo maybe nobody respects your privacy.

You’ve never considered yourself shy, but you have resigned yourself to being perpetually friendzoned, a bit too person-next-door in a would-never-date-their-neighbor way rather than a person-next-door who also is-totally-down-to-date-their-handsome-neighbor way. Like puffing out your chest while walking on the sidewalk to convey confidence and get people out of your path, you’ve mastered the art of giving off don’t-fuck-with-me vibes — despite desperately wanting to fuck.

And therein lies the problem-not-actually-a-problem with one Rengoku Kyojuro. Also known as, Mitsuri’s favorite barista. Also known as, immediately flirted with you when Mitsuri finally took you to his cafe for brunch, writing his number on your cup and everything. Also known as, might not have been flirting with you and in fact was just being nice because he has yet to properly-not-jokingly ask you on a real-official-non-platonic date. You’ve survived a blustery autumn of pumpkin spice lattes and too many free muffins, persevered through a surprisingly snug winter of It’s my special recipe hot chocolates and ice skating with the gang (Mitsuri, Shinobu, Kyojuro, and his insufferable friend Tengen), and felt wistfully hopeful as spring came and went, having your voice compared to blossoming flowers and your smile to tender sunshine… only to dream alone, his contagious grin and addictingly cozy hugs lingering even as you woke with the sensation of tears in your eyes.

—

“You should tell him how you feel!” Shinobu sighs, an exasperated, endeared sound as she watches you bemoan your adoration.

“Oh yeah, because he definitely feels the same after a year of literally zero signs!”

“He called your ice cream plans last week a date,” Mitsuri chimes in, rubbing your shoulders as she exchanges a they’re-both-so-helpless look with Shinobu.

“Platonically,” you shoot back, sagging into Mitsuri’s touch, “He’s so gentlemanly and sweet, I never know whether we’re flirting or he’s simply being polite! Friendly! A friend!”

“I repeat,” Shinobu deadpans, “Tell him how you feel.”

You pout, chewing on your upper lip as you mumble, “And if he doesn’t like me?”

“Nonsense!” Mitsuri declares brightly, squeezing you—Owww—a little too hard, “He doesn’t talk to anyone else like he talks to you.”

“I talk to you differently than I talk to Shinobu. Doesn’t mean anything,” you grumble.

“I’m trying to uplift you,” Mitsuri huffs, playfully pulling on your earlobe, “Trust us. Okay? He would absolutely date you if he knew you were interested in dating.”

“Since when have I said I’m not interested?!” you wail in dismay.

“You’ve never said you are interested,” Shinobu quips.

You scowl at her as she tosses a good natured pillow at you, Mitsuri clicking her tongue as you squish the pillow against your sternum, heart aching when your phone lights up Rengoku Kyojuro sent you a Snap • 🔥.

#kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #flame hashira #drabble #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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hiorisgf · 8 months

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##Reincarnate, love, die, and then repeat the cycle!

↪ft. Ei, Xiao, Venti

↪How do the long living characters act with a reincarnator lover?

↪No, I don't know where I was going with this so please don't ask. TT

Raiden Ei

Ei finds you a confusing person to consider. Being the farthest, and yet also one of the closest to eternity-you are a variable Ei doesn't know how to handle.

Ei doesn't know - no- actually, she does know; she knows every single you that you've reincarnated into(she cherishes you too much to truly let you go), but she makes no moves to approach you, to try and return back to the times where she'd call you her lover.

She doesn't do anything, only watch you through the Shogun's eyes as you go on about your life, unaware of the past life you spent as the very same lover of the god of thunder from a tale of Inazuma.

She watches and watches, the plane's clouds clearing up ever so slightly at the sight of your smile. A sight she once admired firsthand.

Ei was alright being just your god, this was how it ought to be in the first place. You were human, and she was a god, an esteemed archon and the ruler of Inazuma - the line that differentiates the two of you is clear as day. (But that doesn't stop her from reminiscing the past with a somber mood)

Although eversince the appearance of the enemy of eternity, and Yae's incessant chidings, she was forced to change her views, forced to acknowledge the feelings she's long since barreled up.

She admits that she longs to converse with you, to fall inlove with you once more, to feel the familiar sensation of jitters as your skin makes contact with hers, she's conflicted, arguing over which side of her she'll allow the honor of following their desire.

And with a final push from her familiar, she ultimately decides to approach you, you who tended to your stall, selling her favorite kind of sweets to interested passerbys. She clears her throat, stopping the growing anxiety and excitement from being visible on her face.

Xiao

"In every lifetime I'll have, I promise to find you and love you again." Were the words you've parted this world with. A ludicrously beautiful promise- a ridiculously impossible vow.

It's become some sort of a past time for Xiao to wait for you by the balcony of wangshu inn. Day after day, he sits by the balcony when night falls, waiting for the time you'd prove yourself true and appear infront of him.

Of course he knows it's impossible, chances were that even if you did have a second chance in life, you'd have already forgotten the lifetime you spent with Xiao, forgotten the promise you uttered using your last breath.

But to wait for you by the balcony has become a past time he'd seek solace in - a moment he could spend remembering the memories he'd made with you. Because at the very least, even if you couldn't keep, let alone remember your promise, he'd keep his own and remember you vividly no matter how much centuries have passed.

By now, Xiao knows not to get his hopes up. But when someone walks in, donning the same attitude and looks as you, he can't help but approach. Gingerly, he'd call out your name. And his heart skips a beat when you turn around, grinning with a smile too wide to be natural.

"Yes?" You take a step closer, stopping only when you were a step away, and leaned in close enough to feel your breath on his ear. Xiao finds himself glued to where he stands, a myriad of questions running through his mind. But the next words you utter sheds light inot his eyes, and a grin he'd rarely ever show to the world.

"Did you need something, General Alatus?"

Venti

Venti makes it a point to watch your every reincarnation, keeping watch and giving you his blessings. But the extent of his affections remains there. He doesn't approach, only ever watches you by the side, hearing about you through the winds' memories.

Don't get him wrong, venti loves you truly. But to tell you of your past and try to mingle with you once more would only serve to bind you to him, force you into a relationship with him solely because of your past relationship.

Venti values your freedom more than anyone else, so he doesn't tell you anything about the past he oh so treasured, allowing you to do whatever without the shackles of your past binding you and restricting your movements. Because despite his strong desire to stay with you throughout your lifetime once more, he'd rather see the smile on your face he's grown used to before, the smile unrestrained by anything, that free and jolly grin you'd make he'd always fall in love with; even if it meant that it wasn't him who'd bring that kind of expression to your face anymore.

But if you do choose to follow the footsteps of your former self, approach him and befriend him. Maybe even fall inlove, then Venti would be more than happy to indulge you. He'd tell you his odes, his proses and poems, songs and tunes, dedicate each and everyone to you. He'll let you fall inlove, let these feelings foster alongside with his, and he'll be there, waiting for you with a patient grin.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #ei x reader #xiao x reader #xiao x you #venti x reader #venti x you #ei x you #@@.xylvie's works #so uhm hi #ahah

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 days

Note

WIBTA if I asked my girlfriend to get me a replacement mask?

So I and my girlfriend (both adults) are in a long-distance relationship and live on different continents but visit each other for periods of weeks to months at a time. As background context, my girlfriend is notoriously bad with money - she's owed me over $1500 for half a year now after I covered some big expenses for her when she was unable to save in time, though I've told her there's no particular deadline for giving it back and to just do it when she's able, but she's also borrowed money from her parents, she's paying off a credit card debt, and despite having a full-time job she seems completely unable to save anything substantial and is constantly buying things.

We both like a certain musician, and this shared interest in the musician is actually how we met in the first place and bonded. They've dropped some merch in the past, and it always sold out within 5-10 minutes, and they're borderline impossible to get now unless you a) are lucky enough to find another fan who's giving theirs away, which is super rare because of how hard they are to replace, or b) are willing to fork out thousands of dollars for a resold one on some dodgy site somewhere. One of the merch items I got from one of those drops was a facemask, and my girlfriend has a matching one - I can't remember if it was something I bought for her, since I did that with some merch if I got there in time, or one she bought herself. It became a huge comfort item for me - I'm both autistic and have avoidant personality disorder, so I'm almost always in some kind of mask to hide my face, and this one being connected to a special interest as well as comfortable and a perfect size (and goes with all my clothes!) made me super happy. Last time she visited, we joked around about having identical masks but that it was easy to tell which one was hers because it had makeup stains all over the inside.

As she packed to leave, I mentioned that I couldn't find my mask anywhere and asked if she'd picked mine up as well as hers by accident, so she dug through her bags and said she didn't have it, only hers. I was kinda disappointed but I figured it'd turn up sooner or later so I accepted it, and she flew back home.

A few days later, she let me know she'd unpacked and discovered she actually did have both our masks. I asked her to send it back to me, and she said she would.

Fast forward a few months, I'd asked a few more times, and she always said she would soon. Eventually, when I asked one time, she told me she'd lost it. Her mother had tidied her entire room and she no longer had any idea where either of our masks were. I was kind of frustrated so I asked why she couldn't have just sent it over when I initially asked, and she snapped back that she couldn't afford it, which doesn't make much sense to me because she definitely does have enough to send over a flat envelope, which a fabric face mask would easily fit in just like a letter.

It's been a few months since then and I've been looking and looking for any kind of replacement, but all I can find are knock-off versions that are made from different materials or don't look the same. I did see one resold for like $20 ages ago, so it definitely happens, but it's so rare.

WIBTA if I told my girlfriend I'm expecting her to replace the one she lost even if it's putting more financial pressure on her? I feel really dumb for getting so upset about a mask, but it was one of my favourite belongings and it's genuinely upsetting that it was taken and lost.

To get out ahead of any comment saying it, I have full 100% faith that she did not do it intentionally and she didn't sell it or anything like that. She wouldn't have even thought about the possibility of doing that and I absolutely believe it was an accident and she just grabbed both masks or had been holding onto mine for me and forgotten it was in a bag etc.

#aita #am i the asshole

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curlycarrion · 3 months

Text

Popsicles

Reader: gn reader

Warnings: nsfw but nothing too bad. More suggestive than anything actually happening

MDNI

Context: When walking through town the both of you decide to get something sweet

Wc: 2.1k

A/n: Howdy y'all! I'm relatively new to writin and decided I wanted to give it a shot. This is my first fic so I hope y'all like it

It was a rather nice spring day on the island that you had found yourselves docked at. A cool breeze blowing by occasionally with the faint scent of flowers carried along with it while it kissed your skin with each pass, fresh grass having sprung up from it's winters sleep and swaying calmly in the wind, and the sun shining overhead with a spare cloud occasionally passing in front of it. It really was a nice day for exploring what the island had to offer.

Most of the crew had broken off into their own groups to do what they liked in this nice little break from the sea. Luffy running of to decimate the local food population, Nami and Robin meandering through the streets of the town looking for anything that may catch their eye, and you tagging along with Sanji as he decides to walk through the local markets for any new ingredients or spices to collect or try. Making idle chat between shops to occasionally fill in the silence, not that you really needed to. The rare silence actually being a welcome change of pace from the typical noise and banter the crew seems to create wherever they go. The silence wasn't the only benefit of this little trip of course. The trip gave you an opportunity to watch Sanji while he's not in a state of falling over himself whenever any pretty little thing walked by or working to fill the stomachs of the crew. No this was a moment where you could watch him calmly go about his day. The tall man seeming almost like a normal person while he appraises the wares of each market on the street you stop at. No sign of annoyance in a furrowed brow from the captain's yelling and antics or the swordsman's bickering and fights, no shows of the superior strength or abilities you've seen him demonstrate with ease countless times, and no cupped hands quickly brought to his nose in an attempt to keep blood from running down his chin to his throat.

Instead it was just Sanji, sweet kind-hearted Sanji. The man who puts his friends and loved ones first even if it means he gets hurt in the process. The man who could easily snap someone like a twig without breaking a sweat that handles his cooking and the women in his life with a gentle care that'd lead you to believe he was handling the most fragile glass. The man who was, most of the time, always dressed so nicely you'd think he was prepared for a fancy dinner or date at anytime.

"Y/n? Are you ready to go?" The sound of his voice quickly breaks you from your thoughts. Realizing you had zoned out while he was talking to the merchant and hadn't noticed him trying to grab your attention for a few moments.

"Oh right yeah, yeah sorry my thoughts were elsewhere." You apologize with a smile as you begin to follow along when he begins down the street. Noticing how he seems to have shortened his steps a little to slow down his pace so you don't have to walk quickly to keep up. The smoke from his cigarette trailing lazily behind him with each step. Managing to move your lingering eyes from the tall man beside you to observe your surroundings. The stalls of the markets filling the air with various scents and sounds that cover the smell of spring in their vicinity. Most of the fragrances coming from a little further down where there's various people selling street foods, baked goods, and snacks in general that leave you with a thought of grabbing something for yourself.

"Would you like to get something mon cheri? You deserve a treat for choosing to accompany me when you could've spent time with Nami and Robin instead." He offers with a sweet smile, almost as if sensing a rise in your interest in the idea of food. Looking around your surroundings you spot a little stand in the distance selling frozen goods, feeling a sweet tooth pop up at the prospect of something cold and sweet on the spring day.

"You say that like I need a reward for spending time with you, getting something sweet is just a bonus." You tease lightly as you take his hand and happily lead him over to the stand, not noticing the smile that comes across his face at your touch and the words that had left you. Letting you lead him along to the stand before paying for your choice of popsicle while ignoring your protest.

"Now what kind of a man would I be if I let you pay for your own dessert?" He asked rhetorically as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze as it was still wrapped in his. Taking the opportunity he finds a spot a bit away from the busy streets of the market to rest and enjoy the frozen treats you had gotten in peace. Sitting under the shade of a tree on the soft grass as you both settle and lean against the trunk.

"Sanji yours is going to melt before you end up finishing it." He blinks a couple times as he registers your words before quickly turning to his own dessert that had sat in his hands forgotten. Right he had something of his own.

"It's a lovely day today," He comments idly with a calm smile gracing his features as he continues with a sweet tone "perfect for enjoying with equally lovely company." He steals a glance over to you after speaking while taking a bite of his sweet before nearly choking on it. Seeing you beside him licking a stripe up the side of your popsicle before sucking on the tip of it with a pleased hum at the flavor.

"You're too sweet Sanji, if anyone's the lovely company here it's you." The words fall on deaf ears as he finds his focus set more on the movement of your tongue and lips as you take the treat into your waiting mouth once more. Watching the brightly colored dessert disappear between your lips and swallowing in tandem with you when he sees the movement of your throat when you swallow the fluid that had melted in your mouth. Unable to help but imagine other situations in which your mouth would move in a similar manner. Feeling heat begin to rise to his ears and the familiar twitch down below at the thoughts beginning to form in his head. Unsure of how long he had been lost in thought for until you turned your eyes up to him beside you. Seeming unknowingly innocent of what you're doing to him as you slowly pull the popsicle from your mouth and lick your lips. Clearly able to see the color staining your tongue from the bright flavoring when you point to his hand.

He feels a small wave of guilt wash over him for a moment at being lost in lewd thoughts of you, though a small part of him can't help but want to see more. Caught in an internal battle between the two as he chastises himself while simultaneously replaying the image in his head. Resuming in eating his dessert as an attempt of a distraction from the tantalizing sight beside him. This is his friend after all. He shouldn't be having these thoughts while you sit right next to him, naively pushing the popsicle deeper into your mouth after you'd finished speaking. Blissfully unaware of how much the sight of your lips wrapped around the sweet treat made his composure crack and the blood threaten to sting his nose. How he manages to keep the blood in he doesn't know. Wanting nothing more than to pull you close and taste the flavor to see what made you so glad to invite it so deeply into your mouth without a second thought. To see if you'd react the same way if it was replaced with something of his own. If you'd just as happily sink your pretty lips down around him if given the opportunity, maybe even happier to do so. Maybe you'd be shy about it. Careful in your movement as you look up at him with doe eyes for approval.

God he needs to stop thinking about this. Each thought gets him closer and closer to cracking and possibly doing something he'd regret. He'd never hurt you of course, god no he wouldn't even dream of it. If he had the opportunity to even touch you in a more than friendly manner he'd treat you like royalty having come down from the heavens themselves, something greater than himself that he'd gladly get on his knees and worship to. You deserved nothing less as someone who sends his heart souring with just a smile sent his way. No he needed to stop his thoughts so he didn't accidentally push you away.

You were his own angel. A dear friend. Someone who brings both joy and calm to his life with each breath you take. He can't ruin this with his own lustful desires that simmer just beneath his skin and threaten to boil over with each sinful swipe of your tongue. Watching what isn't currently buried into the warmth of your mouth begin to melt and drip down in-between your fingers and palm as it reaches the inside of your wrist. Feeling his control hanging by a thread, a single rapidly fraying thread that snaps at your next movement. Noticing the dripping you remove the half gone popsicle from your mouth and bring your wrist up. Eyebrows furrowing disapprovingly at the sticky sensation between your fingers as you tongue moves to clean the juice moving down your wrist.

"You taste divine mon cœur, surely you'd make anything sweeter with just your touch. I hope you don't mind me tasting more." He compliments with a smile that looks both flirty and genuine. His eyes locking onto yours as his tongue wraps around your fingers before dipping between them in a lewd gesture that sends your heart hammering against your ribs. While he had flirted with you before, frequently in all honesty, this was a whole new level that the both of you had yet to reach until now.

Sanji moves without thinking, the possible consequences that might arise the furthest thing from his mind as he grabs your hand. Leaning close to you as his lips meet the inside of your wrist in a short and soft kiss, watching your eyes grow wide at the sudden movement as his tongue tastes the flavor sticking to his lips. Realizing what he did he goes to let go with a rapid apology for his behavior before stopping when he looks at you. Not seeing any disgust or anything negative in your expression or eyes, no. No you were surprised, your attention was on him, and most importantly.. you didn't pull away.

Feeling a small surge of confidence he decides to test the waters. His tongue coming out once more to follow the sweet colored line left behind from your wrist to your palm. Happy to find your surprise growing along with a flustered expression joining your features.

"S-Sanji?" You manage to squeak out in a slightly stammered voice. Clearly unexpecting of the action as heat quickly crawls to your cheeks and ears. Pleased by your reaction he decides to continue in his ministrations both to see how far he could go with this and for his own desires. A quiet groan rumbling from his chest at the taste of the popsicle combined with your skin.

The feel of his facial hair against the skin of your hand. Those grey-blue eyes staring dead straight into your own almost daring you to look away as he drinks in your every expression. And his lips parted to make room for the wetness of his tongue to travel across your skin in a manner that sends your thoughts to a similar trajectory of his own. It was a sight that seared into your mind, making you suck in a sharp breath and and ache to pool in your lower stomach. While you hadn't known how you had affected him and what had caused him to suddenly become so bold he was well aware of what he had done to you. Knowing exactly what affect his purposeful movement had done from the look on your face.

One thing became crystal clear at the end of the day, and that is that you'd both be the death of each other.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece sanji x reader #op x reader #one piece imagine #one piece #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #one piece fanfiction

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alpaca-clouds · 10 months

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About Anarchism and Security

Alright, I promised @cofiandme to answer this, once I had time, so let me answer it now.

Quick quote of the question under yesterday's anarchism blog:

@cofiandme: Without prejudice and a genuine inquiry: If anarchism is "having no ruler" and, in theory, still have rules, who enforces these rules? Me: Society does. Basically the idea is that people are responsible for themselves and their community. (Additionally there is also the basic idea that humans are actually not inherently violent or anything, but are forced into violence through things like abuse and poverty.) @cofiandme: society? How so? Does that equate to morals and vague faculties? I too agree that men are not inherently evil, but I am pretty sure that they're self-centeredness (like what you've said, "people are responsible for themselves") will bring out self-interest, which is not necessarily evil but will inevitably result to some disputes, knowing resource limitness, scarcity, and all — how do anarchist society settle this? Within themselves too?

So, it has to be said at this point that we do not have any documentation of any large scale society, that lived by anarchist rules. While it stands to reason that those indigenous cultures that were basically living under a sort of anarchism when there was settler contact, those were often already quite descimated by the time it was documented. And modern anarchist communes rarely reach a size of more than a few hundred.

What I am trying to say: For the most part, we only have theory right now. But it should obviously noted, too, that we are only animals and surprisingly animals do manage to exist for the most part without murdering and raping members of their own species.

At the very, very basic level, anarchism assumes that people's nature is neutral, if not outright good. Because we have seen time and time again that whenever societal forces we have break down, people will help one another, rather than fight each other. Hence the assumption that people are neutral/good, but current systems are bad.

Before all else, we do need to break down the hierarchies of capitalism, by making sure that neither absurd riches, nor poverty should exist.

But also working at the abolishment of other hierarchical systems like the patriarchy and white supremacy. As well as create access to help networks for everyone. That includes especially healthcare - including mental healthcare.

Right now, most crimes are linked to poverty. Poverty forces people to commit crimes, and once people get into trouble with the law once (let's say for stealing food or selling drugs), there is a chance that this actually pushes them further into crime and violence. This is in fact more true, the harsher the anti-crime system of a country is. Hence: If you abolish poverty, you will already limit crime.

Then we have the other two big factors of crime: Hate-crimes and crimes commited out of mental health struggles. (Of course all the factors can be linked.) Working against discriminating structures would drastically limit the hate crimes. Mental health support the other.

So, why am I telling all that? Well, because it is basically the anarchist belief, that system changes would lower violent crime massively.

Now, let's get to the part with the rules.

A very, very basic assumption: Most people do not avoid violence against other humans because of laws, but because violence does actually feel bad.

But yes, society does need rules. So, instead of rules being unbending and only affected by a selected few, everyone gets to have a say about the rules, that would directly affect them. In old times and small communes, this usually happened/happens via a sort of townhall meeting, where everyone gets a chance to speak and then people cast their vote. If we had this as a system for a wider society, these processes would probably be digitalized. (There are a couple of other models/additions for this, that are possible for this, but the direct approach is technically the most anarchist.)

As for the enforcement: In general the anarchist idea is that punishment is not the way to go, but rehabilitation. And of course cops do bring so many issues with themselves... So basically the enforcement idea is, that everyone should be allowed to intervene, when violence happens. And that in general again the society as a whole should get a say in what happens with people - though generally never seeking punishment and rather a solution that aims for rehabilitation or, if that is not an option (like, you will probably not rehabilitate the nazi mass murderer), for security detainment.

And, see. The thing about "self-centeredness" is, that we as a society under late stage capitalism have one big issue: Our society is an individualist one. But this is actually counter to human nature. Humans are not individualist animals. We are social animals. A social rule that serves the many is in fact the one that best serves all the single beings within it.

/end long ramble

#anarchism #anarcho communism #theory #anarchist theory #hopepunk #punk #anti capitalism #justice

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riiwriting · 1 year

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Conflict of Interest | Solomon (Obey Me)

summary : you should have known that an apprenticeship under your best friend would bring nothing but trouble. keeping relationship strictly platonic was difficult enough in itself, so it was inevitable when your additional time together drew you into one another's arms. the only issue with falling in love with Solomon was that you knew nothing would ever be the same.

no pronouns / second person pov

warnings : explicit language, no actual smut but pretty direct allusions to sex, mildly toxic relationship

very loosely inspired by the Bright Eyes song Lua (and the Mac Miller cover of it on soundcloud) :

and i know you have a heavy heart / i can feel it when we kiss

me i'm not a gamble / you can count on me to split / the love i sell you in the evening / by the morning won't exist

what feels normal in the evening, by the morning, feels insane.

To say that you and Solomon weren’t on good terms would be an understatement.

It hadn’t always been like this – in fact, until very recently, you had held no one closer. Your close friendship had only gotten stronger once you officially adopted the role of being his apprentice. You had always been apprehensive about mixing your professional and personal lives, but you knew there was no one you trusted more to help you hone your magic than your white-haired friend. And after everything the two of you had been through together, no one else understood you quite as well.

The two of you had more than proven that you made a good team, both as friends and sorcerers. After months of spending nearly every moment together, there was no one you felt safer with – no one you cared for more deeply – than your mentor. There came a point where you couldn’t fathom anything, not even fate worst’s punishments, threatening the bond that you shared.

Then Solomon made the very mistake that you had sworn you would never make.

He sashayed across the invisible line drawn so thinly between you – the line you had been pacing frantically along for months. It was inevitable; you’re sure you would have caved and made the same error if he hadn’t. Drunk on excitement and a little too much wine, there was no better atmosphere to destroy everything the two of you had so carefully built together.

The inevitability of it all was painfully obvious by the way you melted in his hands when he touched you, pulling your hips against his with an unashamed grin. It was obvious when your eyes fluttered shut on instinct at the sensation of his cold fingertips grazing your warm cheek. And it was obvious still when he desperately covered your lips with his own, and you realized that this was what you had truly been waiting for, all this time.

It was the beginning and the end of it all. You spent that evening, and many more just like it, disregarding all common sense in a frenzied haze, desperate to scratch an itch that had been burning in both of you for far too long. Nothing about it warranted any conversation between you, as it never felt necessary.

In such moments, he was as eager as you were restless, the glide and feel of his bare skin against your own seemingly the most normal thing in all of the three realms; like you were destined to fall for him. As though he wouldn’t rest until he had come to know every inch of you, his intentions rarely clear and almost never pure.

You knew from the conditions of it that the depth of your emotions were not reciprocated. You had avoided it for so long because you knew he would ruin you, and you were of the impression that he most likely knew it too. It was common knowledge that he couldn’t love you, but when his head was between your thighs, watery eyes shining up at you in near worship, it sure as hell felt like he did. And if your desperate cries of his name weren’t enough to show him how you felt, you hoped the pretty purple marks you painted along his collarbone did the trick.

The unfortunate thing about time, of course, is that evenings always come to an end. Sometimes, waking up in the morning is a beautiful thing. Other times, waking up in the morning, deeply sore with a pounding headache, means facing the unfortunate reality that you made a mistake.

That’s always what waking up in Solomon’s bed meant. The same bed, yet miles apart – at arm’s length, if he was still there at all. He had wanted you so fiercely just a few hours ago. You had known all along that you didn’t want this – you didn’t want to put yourself through this – and now you had. The blame fell equally across the two of you. You each had sins to repent.

You’d think you would learn from your mistakes, but you didn’t. Not a week later, when you found yourselves alone together in a train cabin on an uncomfortably long trip in the human realm. Or two weeks after that, when he called you in the dead of night just to hear your voice, begging you to come to him. While you typically did quite well with your lessons, you seemed to be having a hard time learning this one.

You didn’t care to know what his purposes in nocturnally pursuing your heart were. Perhaps you were simply convenient, or maybe you were just someone he was comfortable with. You doubted anything more. But you believed with aching decision that you would keep running this race however long it took. He was still, at the core of everything, your best friend. You craved consistency from him, but you were content with whatever cards fate decided to play. You would’ve been content with anything, as long as it was him.

Now you could hardly stomach the sight of him.

Yet here you were, reliant on him once again.

Lost in past, there was no one else you could contact who might be able to help you figure out what the hell was going on. It just so happened that he had been looking for you too, apparently unsatisfied with the way you left things.

“Well when you suddenly disappeared, I had to come look for you,” he said earnestly, as though his concern was genuine. As though this was nothing more than another adventure for him in the Devildom.

You couldn’t help but scoff, “Funny, how quickly you worry when I’m not at your convenience.”

You watched as his face shifted from concern to frustration. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re also my student and friend,” he said sharply.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting against the anger that flared in your stomach. “Also?” you repeated scaldingly. “What exactly is the first thing you think of when I come to mind?”

He rolled his eyes, biting his lip to keep from snapping at you. After he had gone through all this trouble, practically cementing himself in the past with you, still unsure of a way back, he was infuriated that this was how you chose to greet him. As much as he tried to fight it, he was also frustrated that you wouldn’t believe him when he said he had been worried about you. He knew things had changed, but he had never thought you could believe he didn’t care about you.

You were expecting an answer, and it took him a moment to work out how to properly articulate one. “I was speaking in reference to which of our relationships you clearly value the most,” he spoke apathetically.

His assumption seared at your chest, and you had to dig your fingernails into your palms to resist the urge to curse him. You knew he’d be stronger than any curse you could conjure anyway, especially in your current state of mind. You opted for non-magical words instead. “It’d be in your best interest not to assume you know how I feel,” You cautioned.

When he simply raised a lazy eyebrow, your frustration reached a fever point. Trying to collect your anger to formulate a rational argument, so it was inevitable when you threw your hands up, your eyes threatening tears.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

The air of Cocytus Hall grew still. For a moment, Solomon wasn’t sure if his anger was fading or growing worse. Regardless, his composure hardly changed. “Then why do you?” he asked.

You wanted to scream. “You know why,” you seethed through gritted teeth.

His expression flickered briefly, his cool expression drifting into a soft look of shame. It was only a matter of moments before he was back to his normal self, quietly admitting, “I do know why.” He let a silence fill the air, unsure of how the hostile look in your eyes was making him feel. After a breath, he dared to say, “I want to hear you say it.”

Only he would be pompous enough to make demands in the midst of an argument. As a mentor, his arrogant insistence was welcomed, but when he got like this…

“Why?” You began your interrogation, your voice raising against your will. “Why must I always lower myself for you? Why do I always have to be the one who’s vulnerable? Who’s at your convenience?” By the end of it, you were shouting, and you had nearly cleared the room, putting yourself directly within arms reach of Solomon.

You wouldn’t hit him, of course. You’d never do such a thing, not even in your worst of tempers. But you could feel your anger bubbling through your veins, like steam rising from your skin. You wanted him to be able to feel how much you hated this. How much you hated that you were stuck here with him. How you hated the way you felt about him.

“You’ve never said it,” Solomon simply answered, his demeanor unfazed by your new proximity. If anything, he used your movement to his advantage, straightening his back to perfect his posture, a silent reminder of who exactly you were talking to.

Still, he knew well that you weren’t one to shy away quickly, not even from him. “Why would I?” you countered, your eyes narrowed and dark. “I do respect myself, Solomon.”

“I see it in your eyes every time I take off your clothes,” Solomon hummed in a low voice, his gaze still holding an argumentative heat. “I feel it every time you kiss me, every time you ask me to stay a little while longer. You couldn’t hide it if you tried, MC, yet you’re too damn stubborn to admit it to my face?”

At that point, your anger bubbled over into embarrassment, which bubbled into helplessness. You didn’t understand why he was being so cruel. “Why do you insist on making this so painful?” you asked, at this point, seeking mercy.

What you were seeking found you. Solomon’s eyes softened, the expression different from his usual lustful gaze. He let his passive façade slip, exposing a gentle vulnerability I hadn’t seen from him in quite some time. “Why can’t you just admit that you’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice thick with repressed emotion. Your gaze faltered, and it was his turn to push back. “What is so terrible about your attraction to me? Why are you so ashamed?”

“This is why!” You snapped quickly, your anger returning. “Because you know exactly how I feel about you, and you hold it against me. You use is to your advantage, for your entertainment!”

A sudden look of desperation flashed across his face as he finally understood how you truly saw him. “You think I want you any less?” he asked in a quiet plea. Suddenly, the thought of you thinking such absurdity reignited his anger. His voice raised as he pressed, “This isn’t just some game to me.”

A slight scoff slipped past your lips on instinct, causing his shoulders to tense. When he peered at you with burning curiosity, you finally voiced your deepest thoughts. “Solomon, you’re using me! You’re using how I feel about you!”

His initial instinct, of course, was to say absolutely anything he could to prove to you otherwise. He had meant every drunken whisper and lustful remark, every desire for you he had ever had. He needed you just as dependently as you had ever needed him. He had lived for centuries and never encountered anything that compared even remotely to you.

He longed for you achingly, but knew that the two of you had a lot of things to balance. You had a lot of roles to fill. He had always figured that there was simply a time and place.

Now, hearing your devastating beliefs, he wanted to argue, fight, plead – hell, the man was ready to drop to his knees. But as he turned over the entirety of your statement in his head, he suddenly couldn’t focus on his need to reassure you. His mind fixated on your vocabulary, and the way that even now, even after everything you both had said, you still had not said that you loved him.

It was driving him mad.

A wave of anxiety had him running a hand through his shaggy white hair, tugging almost painfully at the roots. When he withdrew his hand, his hair was a tousled mess, and the sight of it made your breath catch. His eyes settled on you in a silent plead.

You don’t know what it was, or what about it was so compelling, but you seemed to be able to read his expression fluently. Something clicked in your brain, forcing you to the conclusion that maybe this was something Solomon needed.

You were pleased when tears didn’t settle into your eyes. Maybe you had been doing a good job getting over it. “I just don’t understand why, Solomon. Why are you doing this to someone who loves you so much?”

There it was. The word left your perfect lips and strung Solomon up by his throat, forcing him to completely freeze into place. He had been directly asking for it – begging for it – but he admittedly wasn’t sure you’d ever cave. Even then, he didn’t know if it would have the impact he hoped.

It wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t exactly a whole, intended confession. It left him wanting, aching to hear you repeat it a little more clearly. The more he thought about it, the more he discovered the he wanted to hear you say it over, and over, and over…

Your heart fluttered at the genuine desire that clouded his grey eyes. For so long he had wondered if fate had simply decided that being loved was not in the cards for him. Of course, he had heard false declarations in his lifetime – insistences and sweet nothings thrown his way from demons and humans alike in an attempt to get something from him. He had on many occasions been consumed by lust, left to wonder if anyone could ever truly long for him in such heady exasperation.

He had dismissed such musings long ago, deciding within the first few centuries of his life that he had nothing to gain from dwelling upon his condition. He had become one of the most powerful sorcerers – one of the most powerful beings – in all the realms. Certainly, his energy was better exerted onto other things.

Yet now you were here, eyes flared indignantly, the words he always found so far out of reach laying on your lips. At long last, the one quality he thought he was truly incapable of possessing. The lone piece missing from his immortal soul. Years ago, accepting Diavolo’s terms of an exchange student program, Solomon never would have thought that what he had been seeking for so long would turn out to be you.

But when your eyes finally gave way to tears, your jaw quivering in a fight against your frustrated sobs, there was no doubting it. “Are you happy now?” Your voice shook as you questioned him, your watery eyes squinting against the weight pooling against your lashes. “You win, Solomon. I love you, and I’ve always fucking loved you, and you’ve never once deserved it.”

Something in his brain snapped. His words caught in his throat, his body too far stimulated with the simultaneous relief of hearing your confession, and resentment at your regret. You accused him so easily of being cruel, yet freely stood before him, assaulting his pride with the most shattering contradiction imaginable. He should have reminded you of your fault in this, held the mirror to your eyes as you accused him being indecisive with your feelings.

But he couldn’t blame you. Nothing about his flippant ways warranted being loved by you. Not the way he disappeared for weeks, sometimes months on end, withholding a menagerie of secrets from you. Not his cocky demeanor every time you caved and admitted you needed him, nor his snarky remarks whenever you genuinely sought out his comfort.

He couldn’t help who he was – what he was – but he had so often proven that he really did possess the ability to treat you properly. He knew you better than anyone else. For so long, he behaved as though he would do anything in hell and creation to keep you safe; even now, he was clumsily putting himself into harm’s way to bring you home. He didn’t understand why you couldn’t see that.

“I don’t feel like I’ve won,” he eventually admitted in bitter reverence. “I feel like I’m very much losing something very important.”

A pressure weighed on your chest as your shoulders heaved an exhausted shrug. “We can’t keep doing this,” you finally surrendered.

As soon as the words began to leave your mouth, Solomon began shaking his head. “MC, please,” he begged, his eyes glossy. “I need you.”

His voice was gutted with his admission, the most sincere you’d ever heard it – or possibly the best performance. You shook your head at what you assumed was his final futile attempt to keep you from walking away. To you surprise, when you turned to do just that, the sorcerer bolted in front of you, blocking your path to the door with a desperate look in his eyes.

“Solomon…” you warned, your tone sharp.

He held his palms out in a signal of peace. You understood the expression on his face as a request for one final chance to tell you how he felt. When you didn’t move, he let his hands fall to his side. “You don’t understand. I have never needed anything but my own talents. I have hundreds of years of experience, and yet I don’t think I would know how to move on from you leaving. All this time, it was as if I’ve been missing this piece of myself. Then one day, there you were, and…”

He trailed off, his eyes adverting from yours as he let out a deep sigh. After a moment to compose himself, he returned his attention to your awaiting gaze. “Neither of us are perfect, me particularly less so,” he admitted bashfully. “But we can’t change who we are. I am, and will be for as long as the earth turns, so deeply sorry that my actions ever led you to believe that I do not love you. I never intended to inflict any of this misery on you. But you have to understand who I am.”

At first, your frustration stabbed at you, insisting pessimistically that he was simply making excuses. The longer you gave yourself to steep, the more you seemed to understand the expression drawn across his handsome features. He had rarely, if ever at all, spoken about past relationships or flings. You had never allowed yourself to assume one way or another, but his testimony seemed to be proving to you that he was so desperate for you to love him because he had never been loved before.

It then dawned on you that he really wasn’t asking you to continue allowing him to carry things on as they had been. He wasn’t asking to use you. His eyes were begging for you to simply be patient with him. You loved the man he had been when you were friends, on those warm evenings, and he was quietly promising to become that man permanently, if you would just stay.

You hated the way your resolve crumbled when his fingers tentatively reached for your wrists, gently pulling your hands into his. You knew that he should have run out of chances by now, but you had to admit that neither of you had exactly been clear in your communication before. You were inclined to give in just because of that.

The problem lied in the nature of Solomon’s words. He was speaking the truth, as you knew, but his admission was not the promise of quick change that admittedly was ideal. It was a request of commitment – and, in fairness, an alleged vow of the same. He was asking for you to be with him, to help him become someone worthy of your devotion. It was no small ask, but his hands had moved to settle on your waist, and you found yourself relenting.

“I’ll stay,” you conceded quietly, absentmindedly stepping further into his reach. One of his hands moved up your body to caress your cheek, his eyes burning with relief and desire. You allowed him to press a soft kiss to your lips, but pulled back as he tried to deepen it. Catching his desperate gaze, you reiterated, “I will stay for now.”

Solomon’s eyes flickered. You knew he was already thinking of future ways to prove to you that he was worth it. The thoughtful expression quickly disappeared, replaced by a look of admiration that you were becoming quite familiar with. “I’ll take any time you’ll give me,” he confessed feebly before regaining control of the situation, kissing you fiercely.

This time, there was no pulling back. Not as he kissed you hungrily against the mantle in the living room that had just moments ago been a battle ground, his thigh braced between your legs as you moaned his name against his mouth. Not as you felt him press against you, every excited muscle of his body fighting desperately against his clothes. Not as he led you stumbling down the hall to the room he had claimed as his own, telling you between kisses that it was your room now, too.

You didn’t pull back as you allowed yourself to succumb to the familiar comfort of being with him. It was different this time, your minds and bodies freshly fueled by the emotions you had shared earlier. This time, when his haughty gaze told you he loved you, you believed him.

And when you woke up in the morning, anxiety pooling in your stomach at what you had yet again done, you found yourself being kept warm and safe by the protective arms of your mentor. Feeling you stir against his chest, he pressed closer against your back, kissing you lightly on the back of your neck. “Good morning, darling,” he murmured, the words casting a slight breeze across your skin.

There were no feelings of insanity as you turned in his arms, your heart burning at the sight of his half-asleep smile. When you dared to press a kiss onto his lips, he fell right into it, his hand against your lower back holding you close. When he finally released your lips, your head was in a daze. Belligerently, you murmured, “I love you.”

His body tensed against you, still not used to being on the receiving end of those words. His reaction instilled panic back into your chest, as you worried that he was going to end up regretting his vulnerability after all.

You were well prepared to scramble away from him, until you felt his lips brush against your skin; first your forehead, then from your temple to your cheek bone, dotting a purposeful line down your jawline until he paused over your lips. “I love you,” he repeated back to you. “So much that I can’t stand it.”

And when he kissed you again, his lips moving perfectly against yours, you finally understood what he meant about being two parts of the same whole.

#obey me otome #shall we date? obey me #obey me! shall we date?#obey me / reader #obey me oneshot #obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #solomon obey me #solomon x reader #obey me angst #solomon angst #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer #nightbringer solomon

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

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You lead a quiet life, with Giyuu

Which, to be fair, isn't something you can say you didn't expect. If you had never crossed his path, if the humanoid creatures he calls 'demons' had never devastated your village, if he hadn't been kind enough to take you in after your home had been burnt to the ground and your family slaughtered like common cattle, there's a good chance you would've spent your life in understated mundanity - tending your family's farm, selling your crops at the local market at the start of every week, marrying someone from a neighboring village who might've been more talkative than Giyuu, but probably wouldn't have given you a llfe any more interesting than the one you currently live. Really, you don't mind it. Not if it's Giyuu. Not after everything he's done for you.

It's not as if he doesn't take care of you, either. You'll admit, you're not sure exactly what he does beyond hunting down those awful creatures, but he always brings home imported teas, fine fabrics, the things you've asked for and the things you've mentioned wanting and the things he decided you ought to have, no matter how overgrown your collection of silk haoris and hand-painted paper fans is starting to become. At first, you thought it was just his way of showing affection, that what he lacked in words, he attempted to make up for in gifts, but that'd been naïve - hopeful thinking paired with a will to ignore the way his eyes lingered on you whenever wore one of his presents. He's polite about it, though, adoring in a silent way. It's sweet, even if you do wish he'd treat you less like a doll to be dressed up and more like an actual companion.

And you are a companion to him. Not exactly a romantic one, sure, but you take care of his household - the modest cabin he keeps tucked away in a forest of lilac flowers - and when he returns from his morbid work, you take care of him, too. Praise for your efforts is sparse, and his ever-melancholy expression makes it difficult to tell whether or not he actually enjoys your nervous attempts at making conversation, but you do your best, regardless, and he repays you with his hospitality, his willingness to sit by your side when you wake up in the middle of the night, sobbing and crying out in fear of a threat Giyuu's already proven he can keep you safe from. It's ridiculous, you know, but he bears with you, offers small smiles and idle promises to stand guard while you sleep. You'd willingly never let him spoil you like that, but he never really listens to you - always slipping back in after he thinks you've fallen asleep, sitting by you and tracing patterns into the back of your hand until the sun rises. Just to make sure you can rest peacefully, of course.

Your days are short and serene, your nights long and excoriating, but Giyuu takes care of you in his own distant, silent way. You're protected, so long as you don't stray any farther than the forest that surrounds his home, and he rarely asks for anything in return, only your company, only that you stop asking to visit nearby towns you've heard him gloss over in muttered conversations or meet the people he mentions in such fond tones. You're alone more often than not, and recently, he's taken to letting his touch linger as well as his stare, but it's a small price to pay for your safety. He could do just about anything to you, and it'd still be nothing compared to what would happen, if you ever left him.

You live a quiet life with Giyuu, but without him, you're sure you wouldn't have a life at all.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere drabble #demon slayer #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer x reader #yandere kny #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #kny imagines #yandere giyuu #giyuu tomioka x reader #yandere giyuu tomioka #yanderecore #yancore

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oliversrarebooks · 6 months

Text

The Rare Bookseller Part 28: Fitz's Capture

Masterlist

June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity, restraints

"And wake." Snap.

Fitz's eyes popped open, as though he'd just closed them for a second -- but that clearly wasn't the case, because he was no longer backstage. Nor was he in his bedroom, on his couch, in someone else's bedroom, on someone else's couch, or in prison, which covered all the places he was likely to wake up unexpectedly.

No, instead he was in a sterile looking room, almost like a doctor or dentist office, perched on top of a table. His arms were restrained behind his back, a pair of handcuffs that he was sure he could easily get himself out of. Lily was standing in front of him, serene and confident.

He'd been a bad judge of character many, many times in his life, but he had a sinking feeling that this would turn out to be one of his more spectacular mistakes. He crushed down the little voice telling him about how he'd been stupid, so stupid, and tried to plaster an unflappable smile on his face.

"Did you have a nice rest? It seemed like you could use it," said Lily.

Fitz's eyebrow twitched with the amount of questions flooding his brain. He hadn't really even believed in mesmerism, and yet somehow she'd put him to sleep and taken him to a location that was clearly not anywhere in the theater. It didn't seem possible, and yet, here he was, trying to remain calm, act like he belonged here and that he knew exactly what he was doing.

"It seems I lost the bet," he said. "Good trick. Mind telling me where we are now?"

"Care to guess?"

He frowned, looking around the room. There wasn't much to go on, just a few chairs and tables. There was an odd post in the center of the room, and the table nearest him had what looked like medical tools on it. He hoped those were just decorative.

"Oh, it's beyond obvious that you've kidnapped me for ransom," he said, picking the most likely option and bluffing his way with the rest. He just needed to keep her talking while he worked his hands free of the cuffs, quietly so she would not hear. "A terrible decision on your part, really. I realize that it's hard to believe, but my family has no appreciation for my talents. They're not going to part with a single dime on my behalf. If anything, they'd pay you to keep me. Not that I expect you to listen to my sage wisdom, but you'd really be better off releasing me before this business gets any uglier."

"Don't worry, I know that your family has left you for dead. I wouldn't have taken you if I thought anyone was going to look."

Now that was actually worrying. "What exactly do you mean by that?" he asked, mostly to stall for time since he didn't think he'd get a real answer from her.

The door was right there, slightly ajar. Lily was smaller than him and didn't look particularly strong. He could overpower her if needed, especially if he caught her by surprise. And the sooner he got out of here, the better, before he found out firsthand why she didn't want anyone to come looking for him. One of his hands twisted free.

"I mean that I'm not interested in ransom. I'm going to make money from you in a much more surefire way." She grinned, and Fitz was sure he saw fangs there. That couldn't be right -- he had to be imagining things.

Still, she had somehow mesmerized him entirely. And she was very, very pale...

"And how do you intend to make this money?"

"I'll be selling you in an auction. An auction where you're going to be in very high demand. You see, your family's blood is extremely high quality, but it's too risky for us to take anyone whose disappearance might be investigated. That is, until you did the courtesy of divesting yourself of your pesky family. Really, I should thank you."

Fitz's mouth was going dry. "Did you say my blood? You mean my lineage? Because that --"

"No, I mean your literal blood." She was way too close to him now, and when she grinned, her fangs were very sharp and very obvious. How had he not noticed? "Haven't you figured out that I'm a vampire, yet? I thought you might be sharper than that."

"A vampire?" A chill gripped his heart. The evidence -- but no, there was no way. He forced himself to arrogantly laugh in her face. "You do realize I spend most of my time in the company of performers, magicians, occultists, fortunetellers, carnival freaks, and circus acts, don't you? I've rapped on the table during seances. I've been to a dozen rituals to trick rubes. Your vampire act is good, no doubt, but it falls a little short of believable."

She leaned back, and Fitz could see the door again. He slipped his other hand just free of the cuff. "You don't have to believe if you don't want," she said. "What you think hardly matters, especially when I'll be changing your mind. Now let's --"

He took his chance, leaping off the table, pushing her aside and bolting for the door. Fake vampire or no, he wasn't about to let himself be sold at any sort of auction. Thankfully, she clearly wasn't expecting him to slip the cuffs, so his escape should be --

His blood rushed to his ears as he was grabbed and slammed into a wall, with enough force to hurt but not enough to seriously injure him. Lily, the mousey woman a head shorter than him, with arms like fragile twigs, was effortlessly pinning him.

"You get one free attempt," she said. "Mostly because I like you, and you're far too valuable to harm."

Fitz kicked his legs uselessly, his struggles not even seeming to register with her. His panic was growing as he tried to think of an angle behind her apparently supernatural strength and reflexes and came up short. He'd never seen anything like this.

An actual vampire.

Yes, this was one of the worst of his mistakes.

With how effortlessly she'd stopped his dash for the door, escape probably wasn't an option as long as she had him in her sights. That meant his efforts had to go towards survival. Bluff and charm and stall and hope a better opportunity presented itself.

"Can you truly blame me?" he said, hoping his terror wasn't too obvious. Could a vampire smell fear? "I'm a magician. It's my instinct to try and escape. But I've learned my lesson, now."

"Have you?" she said, cocking her head. "You don't strike me as the type of man to learn his lessons easily."

"Perhaps not, but I am the type of man who would rather not be thrown into the wall again."

"That, I can believe," she said, releasing her grip. She walked over to a nearby cupboard, keeping her eye on him all the while. She pulled out a white linen shirt and slacks, tossing them at him. "Now, little magician, be nice and obedient and put these on without a fuss, and your body and mind can remain intact for now. How about it?"

"You want me to change in front of you?" Fitz asked, earning him an impatient glare. "Yes, yes, no fuss, lesson learned. I hope you enjoy what you see." He began unbuttoning his shirt, never breaking eye contact with Lily. He didn't like the sound of "intact for now." Nor did he like the implication that his mind would be harmed. She had him completely over a barrel, and all because he thought he could easily outwit a mesmerist. Stupid, stupid, he'd been so stupid.

He tried in vain to crush down his thoughts by making a great, dramatic show of whipping off his shirt, which gained no reaction whatsoever from Lily. "You know, you were quite good at being part of my magic show," he said as he stripped off the rest of his clothing. "And you have impressive talent as a mesmerist, not to mention your surprising strength. You could make a lot of money in vaudeville."

"I can make a lot of money selling humans."

"Vaudeville's a much easier paycheck, I would think."

"I wouldn't say that. It was awfully easy capturing you, wasn't it?"

Fitz couldn't help but scowl. There had to be some angle here. "Don't you feel a twinge of remorse, doing this? Kidnapping innocent people? Not me, of course, I'm hardly innocent, but surely others..."

"Oh, I do, at times. But my remorse pales compared to the size of my paycheck, not to mention my hunger for blood like yours."

"So that's it, then? Some vampire is going to drain me dry and leave me for dead?"

"Oh, not at all. With how valuable your blood is, it'd be extremely irresponsible to leave you for dead," she said. "No, more likely they'll leave you in a half-lucid state for years while they feed from you whenever the mood strikes them. If you're lucky, you'll get to keep enough of your mind to be a servant."

Stupid. Stupid. He'd been so stupid. "Well, doesn't that sound..." His composure broke, unable to think of a retort. Trapped by vampires, having his mind taken, being forced into servitude -- he always knew his life would lead him to some kind of bad end, but he didn't expect this sort of fate worse than death to be waiting for him. "Doesn't that just sound charming," he finished pathetically.

The uniform was uncomfortably itchy and ill-made, and he was glad he had no mirror. "Well? Do I look the part of your prisoner?" he said, striking a pose before Lily.

"It'll do. You'll get a more thorough physical examination later," she said. "But it's almost sunrise, so for now I'll get you to your cell. Any funny business and I'll put you back to sleep."

"I think I've had enough charmed sleep for one night," he said, offering no resistance as Lily gripped his wrist and pulled him out of the room. They walked down a sterile corridor and through a set of metal double doors, the guard glaring at him as he passed through. The doors opened to a long row of prison cells, most filled with people in various states of misery. Some curled up, some sat on cots and stared vacantly at the wall, one woman was pacing and muttering to herself.

The reality of it all began to sink in. This wasn't a nightmare, or a trick, or a joke. He was actually a prisoner here, and he had no way out. It was all he could do to keep from fruitlessly struggling against Lily's grasp, knowing it could only make his situation worse.

She led him to an empty cell and motioned him inside, and he took a long look at the doors before reluctantly entering, the door closing behind him with a definitive clang.

"Meals are three times a night. The faucet water is for drinking and bathing. Use the bell if you need the chamber pot cleaned or if there is an emergency. Lights out means quiet. Noise during lights out, abusing the bell, or harming yourself will all be punished."

"What's the punishment?"

"Anything we like, so I wouldn't recommend testing it," she said. "Oh, and you should know that I am planning to keep your mind intact. I have an old friend who I think would appreciate your antics. But if you attempt to escape, that plan will change. Is that clear?"

Perhaps he had indeed learned a lesson, because he didn't doubt that she could do that. He had to do whatever it took to stay alive here. "Crystal clear."

"Good, I'm glad we can understand each other. I can tell we're going to get along well, Phantom Fitz."

"Like a house on fire," he said bitterly.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to stew in your many regrets. See you next evening."

As Lily walked away, Fitz flopped down on the meager cot with the rough mattress. Even his bed in the tiny room he'd rented was better than this. He couldn't help but think of his old family home -- the luxurious bed, the sumptuous food, the gorgeous clothing. He'd run away from it all to pursue his freedom, to live a life away from constant criticism and expectation. He'd been broke, slept in the nastiest of flophouses, gone hungry, begged, bartered, and stole.

It had all been worth it when he was up on the stage, in his element. It was all going to be worth it when he made it big, when he basked in the applause of adoring crowds and rolled in riches every night. Approval he didn't need to wring out of his parents like blood from a stone, money that wasn't doled out with withering glares.

And now, that dream could all go up in smoke. A servant to a vampire. So much for freedom, fortune, and fame. If he had known...

He was stupid. So stupid.

Part 27 >> Masterlist >> Part 29

Thanks for reading this story of a down on his luck stage magician. Back to Oliver next.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs

#whump #vampire #whump writing #writing #mind control #whumpee #vampire whumper #captivity #rare bookseller #fitz #lily

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 7 months

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Which cullen would fall prey to an mlm scam first

You mean a pyramid scheme?

Well, the trouble with pyramid schemes, is they can be surprisingly tricksy even if you know what to look for. They're very good at reeling you in and convincing you it's different somehow than a pyramid scheme. See, it's shaped like a funnel and not a pyramid! Or you earn income based on how much you sell and then you can enter another tier!

A lot of people who would think they'd never get roped into a pyramid scheme can end up sucked into one if they're not wary.

But alright, let's do it.

Alice

Alice doesn't fall into this for a few reasons.

The first is that her gift stops her, she sees this venture won't make her money but will get her saddled with a shitty product she can't peddle fast enough to break even.

Alice is perfectly content playing with the stock market.

The second is that Alice wouldn't be interested. She has her own way of making more money than she could ever hope to being a salesman and she'd have no interest in selling the kinds of products that pyramid schemes usually do (which are generally mass produced, cheap, and rarely have any quality to them). Alice wouldn't think they're good products and would have no interest in trying to market them herself and sell them to others.

Bella

Doomed.

Give Bella the right pitch, (and many of these are aimed towards women trying to support themselves), and she's there selling what she believes is a great makeup product/clothes line/what have you and refusing to believe she's made a terrible mistake and been conned along with all these earnest other women.

Edward I imagine has to get rid of the product for her and get her out of the hole (Bella's pride never lives this down).

Carlisle

Carlisle's been in the human world long enough, interacted with it more than the others, and is generally very particular about how he should be viewed and seen that I don't see him biting.

"I am human doctor man" Carlisle says, and has no intention in pursuing any other means of income or anything that would make him not look like human doctor man who is definitely 39 why do you ask?

It's not even a matter of him being swayed or not, he's not listening close enough, and likely makes his earliest escape.

Edward

Edward's actually in a little danger in part because of his gift. The thing about pyramid schemes is that those in the lower tiers (even the mid tiers) aren't in the know. They may suspect it's a pyramid scheme, and that they're in too deep to get out, but it's the ones at the top who really planned the thing. The very low-level grunts generally believe it's a real company (it's how they get hooked and sucked in).

If Edward were to meet someone trying to hook him in (as you generally get rewards for recruiting others) then there's a chance.

Now, the chance is small, because like Alice, Edward's comfortable with his money and has 0 desire to work or be a salesman (notice Edward just goes to high school, then university and never goes off on his own or with one of the others to get a job).

That said, I could see Edward being tricked into believing it's a good product, a good cause, and more by people who earnestly believe it. More, because Edward doesn't really doubt his gift, it might not occur to him that these people are also being lied to or else are lying to themselves.

Edward also believes himself intelligent enough that he'd never fall for a pyramid scheme and so would be less wary of it.

Basically, still unlikely as Edward would never get dragged to one of these meetings or into it, but not impossible and much more likely than Alice.

Emmett

Doomed.

If he was taken to the right pitch, for the right product, even though he himself would never use it he'd think it'd be so cool that of course he should sign up. Hey, then he can make some dough for a change, how about that Alice.

It doesn't last long, though, as Rosalie tells him, "Honey, this is a pyramid scheme".

(It also doesn't last long as no one would ever pitch Emmett as he looks fucking terrifying and he's huge).

Esme

Esme's so nice, I could easily see her being essentially bullied into joining. The thing is, she actually doesn't get in too deep because she never depletes her initial stock and has no hope of doing so. Esme doesn't go out enough or interact enough with others to actually sell the product so the terrible makeup brand just... sits there...

She's out some amount of money, but she won't dig herself into the hole that usually happens in pyramid schemes where, with the taste of initial success, you just keep going.

Jasper

Jasper's too scary. The others are all too scary but Jasper's really too scary. He's never approached and if he was I imagine him staring dully at these human products not sure what he is supposed to do with them or how he's supposed to sell them with his face.

Renesmee

Doomed.

Renesmee has no idea how anything works and is ridiculously sheltered by the Cullens. I doubt 'theft' is even a concept she understands nor is 'money' for that matter. Now, this might help her, as she has no idea how to sell anything, but like Esme she probably gets conned into signing the dotted line and making the initial purchase because the nice salespeople tell her it's a great idea.

Rosalie

Rosalie has been through a lot and is naturally wary and skeptical of others. More, while liking to be the prettiest in the room, she doesn't seem all that weak to flattery from what we see of her. Rosalie would be immediately suspicious of anyone trying to sell her anything or get her to do something as she'll be immediately wondering what they get out of this and why they're trying so hard.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #the cullens #alice cullen #carlisle cullen #bella swan #edward cullen #emmett cullen #esme cullen #renesmee cullen #jasper whitlock #rosalie hale #meta #headcanon #opinion

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sh1-n0bu · 2 years

Text

✿ 𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 ✿

Character: Vampire! Scaramouche x Reader

Warning: Blood, biting, nudity (but nothing too nsfw, y’all just open your button up shirts), cursing, angst, fluff, hurt/reverse comfort, gn! reader, Scaramouche might be a bit OOC here, Victorian!AU, a bit of everything lmao

no beta-read, we die like my will to live

first time actually writing on Tumblr low-key nervous ngl🤭

‘Whew, what a long day. But at least I managed to sell a lot tod-‘ hearing a glass shatter as you were closing up your tiny herbs and medicine shop was definitely not the way you wanted to finish your night. Your little shop was the only one that sells medicine in this small town without charging for extra moras unlike the big, famous ones the rich people like to go to. Everyone in this small town was forever grateful and respectful to you and your shop. Whenever your new boxes of goods would come, the people would always lend you a hand without you asking for it, and for that you were always grateful. So when your shop’s second floor window suddenly got broken in by a short man with a noble people clothes, you were greatly surprised. But now was not the time because he was bleeding and you don’t enjoy letting blood get everywhere unless it’s the small surgery room.

“Sir! Sir, can you hear me? Sir? I need you to get up so i can carry you to the surgery room!” shaking his shoulders while asking him basic questions, you definitely know his still alive because he still had a pulse. Before you can forcefully drag him like a corpse to the lower floor, the man yanked you down to the floor and straddled your waist.

“Hey! What do you think your doing?!” usually you’re not one for violence but if he was drunk off his ass and was thinking of molesting you, he’s got a rough, calloused hand to be slapped by.

“Shut up… I don’t h-have enough time… for your stupid babbling… nonsense…” before you can question what he was mumbling about the stranger tore off your cravet tie and had placed his mouth on your neck.

“You-?! Get off of me this instant you- Ow!” when you tried to kick him off, the stranger pinned your hands down and bit your neck harshly. You can already feel blood pouring out and it was not pleasant. Through all of your suffering the man was sucking and licking the blood off, almost like a depraved animal and you swore you could feel something akin to animal fangs penetrating your neck before your vision started to have black dots in the corner and you passed out due to blood loss.

—

When you woke up the next morning with a perfectly bandaged neck and your assaulter coming into the small attic room with something to eat and drink, you were ready to throw hands. It didn’t matter to you if he was some rich, snobby, nobleson or even the son of the queen. For all you care, this son of a bitch bit your neck so hard to the point he drew blood and caused you to pass out.

“Oh, you’re awake. Now before you start screaming your lungs off like a banshee let me explain myself first”

“And why the hell should I? You son of a bitch bit me like a fucking animal!” he chuckled at that. Now that you actually took a closer look at him, he was a rather odd looking fellow. There wasn’t anything rare or monstrous about his looks but, there was just something odd about him. And one thing you learned from years of running and managing a shop all by yourself is to trust your guts.

“Well you’re an interesting little thing. I have never met a human who reacts like you after what happened. But if you want me to explain myself then you have to keep your mouth shut little mouse”. You certainly didn’t like the way he referred to you. Like some kind of an insect, some kind of a toy that’s for his amusement who will later on get thrown away if he lost interest in you. But as long as he doesn’t get a centimeter closer, then you’re willing to cooperate.

“Fine. But if you get closer to me I won’t hesitate to smack you out of the window you broke last night” he laughed dryly at that. Seems like he was getting more and more amused by you and your choice of words.

“Oh, you’re an interesting one little mouse. Makes me want to keep toying with you like this. So little mouse…” he stalked closer to you despite what you had just said and leaned down to look at you right in the eyes. You didn’t like it. Not one bit. You wanted to punch him in his face and knock his teeth in but moving has never felt harder and your limbs has never felt like tons of bricks before. So you decided to challenge him and stared right back. The stranger’s stormy violet eyes seemed to darken and swirl. Getting uncomfortably close to your face he asked

“…Do you believe in vampires?”

—

It has already been 11 months since your run in with Scaramouche. Ever since he dropped the bomb that yes, vampires are very much real and not just some fairytale told by story-tellers and your parents to keep you awake at night you and Scaramouche had started some odd relationship. He would come by every now and then, through the door thankfully, and stay the night or a few in an exchange of helping you out with your shop. You would sometimes teach him a thing or two about herbs, medicines, wound treatment and he would talk about his kin and about himself if he feels like it. And on some nights, he would tear off your tie, forcefully pin you down and suck your blood until you passed out then in the morning you would scold him as he treats the bitemarks that he caused. It was a very strange relationship, the two of you had. More intimate than friends but not intimate enough to be considered lovers. Reading each other like an open book but also not exactly knowing what each other do or even enjoy. It was an odd line Scaramouche and you two were threading on.

The bells that hung above your hole in the corner shop’s doors jingled softly as someone came in. The medic knew who it was for this had happened all too frequently. A creaking of the woods sounded closer and closer until the person plotted down on the couch of the backrooms. Finishing up cleaning some jars and boxes, the medic saw the very same vampire they formed an odd relationship with over the last 11 months.

“How was the trip?”

“Fucking tiring” came the groan of Scaramouche. Snickering at his dramatic self, they handed him a cup of tea. The vampire gulped down the whole cup of tea, ignoring how his throat burned. Setting the cup down Scaramouche got up from his seat confusing the shop-keeper.

“Are you leaving again this so-?” before they could finish their question, said vampire began taking off his clothes. Tailcoat, tie, blazer, white button down shirt all fell down on the couch he was sitting on.

Coughing into their gloves, the medic turned their face away hoping to conceal the blooming red on their face, trying to forget what just happened from their memory. Now, the medic was no prude and they got quite used to seeing half naked people due to some harsh injury treatments. But no man they ever performed on was as good-looking as the hot vampire standing in front of them.

“W-what do you think you’re doing? When the shop is still open none the less?” bringing a hand up to cover the side of their face so they won’t accidentally look at his half naked form, the shop owner tried to cool off their face.

Looking at the flustered medic, the vampire smirked, a very mischievous idea forming in his head. Taking the hand that was covering the side of their face, the purple-head looked up studying every detail. His smirk widens when your face gets redder, loving how he was teasing you. His other hand came up to hold your chin, leaning his face in closer and closer to yours, until he suddenly pushed you down on the couch. The hand that was holding yours pinning it down while the other works on taking off your tie and unbuttoning your button down shirt.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing now?!” grabbing the hand that was stripping you, your [c] eyes looked at his stormy purple ones.

“I’m thirsty. I’ve been away for a week and i’ve only been drinking animal blood and those were fucking disgusting”

“Then why did you take off your clothes dumbass?!”

“They were dirty” he was quite blunt with it. After looking in his eyes if he was lying or not - finding none - you sighed and slowly let go of his hand, letting him finish with his previous actions. Now basically both of you were half-naked.

Fuck, the sexual tension is too damn much, why isn’t he biting? By now he should be on his process of sucking you dry until you pass out but he wasn’t. Instead he was just looking down at you.

Scaramouche’s POV

Oh fuck. He had you like this before but at that time he was too blinded by his hunger he didn’t realize just how damn ethereal you are. Gently running his hands over your tummy and up your chest, he noticed how you shivered and your breath hitched under his fingertips.

Then he looked up at your face, how you were biting your lips and red you were in the face. Your gorgeous [c] eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to bite you, to take your blood, to mark your whole body as his-

‘Oh fuck. This is bad’

When the vampire first met you, he only became acquainted with you just to quench his thirst and hunger but over time he had gotten attached to you as more than just bloodbank. Not only were you understanding, you were also kind, thoughtful, hard-working, intelligent and down-right intoxicating. Then he remembered the dream he had a few nights ago. In that dream he had you just like this. You on your back, beneath him but the difference was that you two seemed more… intimate than whatever you two have going on now. But right now, it wasn’t a dream.

It was real.

You were underneath him, shivering from his cold fingers, red faced, looking up at him with those eyes he fell for. Gulping, Scaramouche leaned down to your neck but instead of what he always does, he started placing soft kisses up your throat and to your chin. He noted how you flinched, shutting your eyes and how your free hand came up to his shoulder not being able to decide if you should push him away or not.

‘Fuck. If you keep being so intoxicating like this how am I suppose to give up on you?’ Scaramouche thought while leaving gentle kisses around your neck and shoulders, sometimes leaving hickeys or gnawing at your skin just to feel you flinch or squirm.

‘Do you have any idea how much I wanted this? How much I wanted you beneath me like this? Flinching and squirming, wiggling and moaning as I make you mine? I wanted it so much I even fucking dreamt about it. I want you. I want you so badly [Name], can’t you see?’ kissing up to your neck once more he finally bit down on the same spot he always bites, sinking his fangs deeper and more harshly just so he can hear you bite back your pained groans and squirm in his hold.

‘I want you. I want you [Name]. I’m a monster that drains someone’s life away and you’re someone that saves others. We’re opposites and yet there’s a saying that goes opposites attract. I know I shouldn’t but I want that to be true so badly’ after gulping down some he retracted his fangs, looking down at you just to see you staring back at him with your soft smile and kind eyes.This snapped something in him as he bit down on the other side of your neck harshly, almost as if wanting to completely tear off your neck. The way his mood changed caused you to jolt and yelp loudly in pain.

‘Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop it. Stop looking at me like that. Stop smiling at me. Stop treating me like a human being or else… I will fall more deeper and I won’t be able to let you go’ Scaramouche stopped and moved away from you, panting and licking his mouth. Both sides of your neck were covered in blood, old and new bite marks littering it while you were panting, trying to recover from his last merciless attack. The sight made him tremble. He wanted you. He needed you. But you weren’t meant for him. He was a monster, you were a medic. He was a killer and you were a savior. Maybe it’ll be best if he just leave you behind and run far away-

A gentle hand on his cheek snapped him out from his spiraling dark thoughts. Looking at you, you were still wearing the same kind expression.

‘You being mine could never happen. But i’ll cherish every moment I share with you as long as you’d let me’ leaning in Scaramouche started cleaning your wounds then softly kissing and leaving hickeys on your upper body.

‘I could never have you’ another kiss ‘but I can’t help but yearn for you’ another bite ‘so i’ll stay here. Right by your side as long as you’d allow me to’

‘I love you. But i’ll kill this feeling over and over again if it means you will be safe and happy’

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fantastic-nonsense · 1 year

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If Inej were the “main lead”, why does Leigh’s acknowledgement at the end of SoC specially call out Kaz as the protagonist + say they (Leigh and kaz) limped along the road together. Why does the back descriptions of both CK and SoC only mention kaz by name. Why does Kaz’s name appear 1112 times in CK and 1139 in SoC via inej’s 660 in CK and 622 in SoC. She gets more pov chapters but a lot of are also focused on kaz (kaz breaker didn’t need a reason is literally her first line) and kaz’s pov is often hidden for reveals too. The stories revolve around him so much more than inej as he’s the leader, assembles the team, has 4+ narrative foils, etc. Leigh even said she came up with SoC because she envisioned a character named “dirty hands”. idk why you’d think it’s disrespectful that people recognize kaz is given far more weight than the other 5 crows in SoC duology. Also audience surrogate isn’t the same as main character.

So. This was an unnecessarily aggressive ask. You could have just ignored my fairly lighthearted post and moved on with your life. But to answer your questions and elaborate on why I think Inej is pretty clearly the 'main lead' of the SoC ensemble cast:

Kaz is called out as a protagonist because he is one. The duology has six co-protagonists; all of the Crows share that status. That's why the book is called Six of Crows, because it's an ensemble cast. And Leigh called him out because she self-admittedly poured a lot of herself into Kaz, particularly his perspective on and handling of his physical disability.

The back descriptions call out Kaz because he's the "leader" of the Crows and it's a heist plot; the marketing team is trying to sell the books by appealing to existing fans of heist plots like Ocean's 11 and Lies of Locke Lamora. However, the book's marketing has no actual impact, necessarily, on how much weight is given to any one particular perspective or story throughout the actual narrative relative to the other Crows. That's not a Leigh Bardugo decision; that's a MacMillan Marketing Team decision.

Likewise, how often a character's name is mentioned does not necessarily reflect their presence or narrative impact in a story. For example, Inej's name is only sparingly mentioned in the first nine chapters of Crooked Kingdom despite Inej getting two POVs and that entire subplot completely revolving around her, largely because Kaz is lashing out at the rest of them whenever she's mentioned. Inej is also referred to as "Wraith" on multiple occasions instead of her name, while Kaz is rarely only referred to as Dirtyhands in place of his name; usually the story will refer to him as both in the same sentence, upping the name mention numbers. Inej has less name mentions largely because she talks less, not because she's treated as a "less important" character. The two Pekka chapters at the end of each book also up Kaz's name mentions and several characters full name Kaz a lot; it's an interesting quirk of the story.

Also, if "how many times a character's name is said" indicates character importance, Nina would be seen as the secondary principal Crow in SOC and Jesper in CK, as their name mentions come secondary to Kaz in both books. Unfortunately for both Nina and Jesper, I don't think anyone would particularly argue for either one. Name mention numbers don't mean anything on their own because again, largely they indicate which characters talk the most and not which characters are given the most narrative importance.

Inej also has 5 narrative foils (Kaz, Nina, Matthias, Adem Bajan, and Dunyasha) and 3 major antagonists (Heleen, Dunyasha, and Van Eck) throughout the duology, the same number as Kaz, so I'm not sure why that's supposed to be particularly compelling evidence that Kaz is the "main" character. If anything, that's indicative of Kaz and Inej getting equal narrative status.

Inej gets the most POV chapters AND the most page time in both books:

Inej is our POV character for 22.6% of the duology. Kaz is second with 18.2%. And even though Kaz is the first Crow to be mentioned (first page of Ch. 2), Inej is the first Crow to actually appear (also the first page of Ch. 2). She gets both the first and last 'main' POV chapter (Ch. 2 of SOC and Ch. 44 of CK) and is also the last Crow to physically appear (in Pekka's epilogue chapter).

Sure. Kaz is the leader and the orchestrator of the heist and auction plots. But the narrative puts much more emphasis on Inej's thoughts, actions, wants, and desires than it does Kaz's. She gets more and longer chapters. We spend much more time in her head, examining her understanding of the world around her and her relationships to the other major characters. And if it comes down to a choice of choosing Kaz or Inej as the duology's "main" lead? Inej is the primary instigator of quite a lot of Kaz's character development but Kaz is not the primary instigator of Inej's; while Kaz is a significant factor in her journey, her development is much more linked to her own trauma, her desire to reunite with her family, and her desire to end the slave trade. His story revolves a lot more around her than hers does around him.

She is also the one to narrate the first main chapter (SOC Ch. 2) and the last main chapter (CK Ch. 44): the books open and close with her story. The parley exchange is a flash-bang introduction to each one of the core Dregs trio with an emphasis on Kaz, but it's still Inej's story that we get first:

She’d joined up with the Dregs less than two years ago, just days after her fifteenth birthday. It had been a matter of survival, but it gratified her to know that, in such a short time, she’d become someone to take precautions against. Though, if the Black Tips thought tricks like this would keep the Wraith from her goal, they were sadly mistaken. ..................... The thought rattled noisily around in Inej’s head. If Kaz was gone, would I stay? Or would I skip out on my debt? Take my chances with Per Haskell’s enforcers? If she didn't move faster, she might well find out.

We see Kaz through her eyes because that chapter revolves around introducing what Kaz is to her: someone she cares about, someone she stays in Ketterdam for, someone who infuriates her, someone who saved her.

And the final main chapter of Crooked Kingdom, likewise, ends with Inej and her story. Her boat, her mission, her boy, her future, and her parents:

Had she really thought the world didn’t change? She was a fool. The world was made of miracles, unexpected earthquakes, storms that came from nowhere and might reshape a continent. The boy beside her. The future before her. Anything was possible.

Ultimately I think you misunderstood what I was trying to say. The point I was trying to make is that while the heist (and thus everyone's primary motivation for going on the job in the first place) revolves around Kaz, the story often revolves around Inej: her thoughts and reactions to what happens, everyone else's relationship to her, her decisions regarding her backstory and trauma (it's her decision to face Heleen and her past in the Menagerie that saves the Ice Court job, for example), and her determination to get her share of the money and leave Ketterdam.

Leigh bookending both each individual book and the duology as a whole with Inej contributes to this. SOC starts with Inej thinking about Kaz and ends with Kaz thinking about Inej. CK starts with the Crows planning to rescue a kidnapped Inej (and getting info from Smeet that will help them do that) and ends with Inej making plans to rescue other kidnapped people (and getting a boat from Kaz that will help her do that). SOC and CK are both narratively bookended by the question/answer "Where is Inej and what is she doing/what's happening to her?" while the duology as a whole is bookended by "Who is Inej and what does she want?"

So no, actually. Kaz isn't given more narrative weight than all of the other Crows. A lot of the duology's technical plot revolves around Kaz and his plans, but Inej is the story's central character and emotional heart...as the books themselves note ("If Kaz was their leader, then Inej had been their lodestone, pulling them together when they seemed most likely to drift apart"). And it really is high time the fandom recognized that.

#long post #six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc meta #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #kanej #asks

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fancifulplaguerat · 7 months

Text

Actually. While I have a moment. This will not be my best analytical work but I have been going mad over a particular dialogue that Daniil can have with a Town Man, two specific sections which occur when they discuss the Kains.

Man: What do you think of the Kains?

Player: I have a soft spot for resolute, outstanding, and bold people. Their kind is rare nowadays.

Man: You're right... the Kains are conquerors by nature. They fear nothing. They're up in arms and ready to overthrow any rules, any dogmas, any taboos. You have that in common with them, don't you? Well... every coin has a flip side.

Player: And what is that?

Man: The Kains are insane. Possessed, like lead performers on the stage. They're cruel; without a moment's hesitation they would sacrifice anything in the world to achieve their brilliant goals. To their credit, their sacrificial list always starts with themselves. lt has always been that way.

An alright firstly I adore this simply because it is rather delightful characterization but ! What really interests me here is the man characterizing Daniil as the Kains' flip side, because I think it's interesting the characterize Daniil through the Kains and vice versa; that both here and with Daniil we see the pattern of cruelty or disregard that is accompanied by a penchant for self-sacrifice, and I have always adored this line for likewise framing the Kains as conquerors, just as Daniil. That alignment with the utopians and conquest isn't subtle or novel, given the. You know. Conquering nature, but still ! The poetic hubris of it all !

Anyway. A second dialogue option plays out thus:

Man: What do you think of the Kains?

Player: Nothing good, I suppose. Their notion of communication is rather annoying.

Man: It is. And their policies are peculiar as well. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to sell the idea to you... I only know that they are very fond of you. It's not easy to win their favour like that.

Player: Really? And how did I win it?

Man: Thanks to Maria, I guess. She has that supernatural intuition of hers, her mother's heritage. She can feel the resolve within you, she can read your intentions; that makes her believe that you're going to help us all.

I actually had recently been bothered by how quickly the Kains latched on to Daniil (Simon and Nina saying that they love him on Day 11 lmao), and assumed that Maria had foreseen his actions but. This kind of compels me more, the suggestion that she did not see his future but just his resolve and intentions, that it's less about his actual actions and instead what he is capable of doing. I find that far more delectable, because in truth I am often a little bored by visions and fate, the idea that the Kains just Saw Daniil preserving the Polyhedron. It also suggests more agency within Daniil's character, more choice; as for the Kains, I still find it a little odd that they are so willing to entrust themselves to Daniil based upon Maria's intuition; it feels almost like desperation, which I prefer to read in here. Honestly I think it could equally just be that they trust Maria that much, and Maria trusts herself, but again I find it more fun to imagine that they are desperate and have staked their future on Daniil. WAIT WAIT I JUST REALIZED. AN EVEN MORE DELECTABLE PARALLEL. Do you see what I am seeing. Daniil staked his life on Simon Kain and Simon Kain staked his life on Daniil !!!!

#going to be honest. all of this was research for a fic.#I am having the most severe Kain brainrot #as many of you are probably aware lol #pathologic #daniil dankovsky #patho.txt

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ghostofskywalker · 1 year

Text

Filed Under: Payroll Complaints

Words: 1,108

Summary: As an office worker living on Coruscant, you had little to no understanding of what the war was like. The only reason you even got a glimpse of it was because you worked in the front office of the GAR.

or alternatively: a collection of voicemails found on your answering machine, all proving one irrefutable truth: that you (and all of the clone commanders) really deserved a raise.

Note: i have no idea where this idea came from, but i cracked open some wine and stayed up way too late writing this (it's currently quarter after midnight. i really need to go to bed) but i hope you enjoy it!! i'm dedicating this to my lovely friend @captainsophiestark, who has asked to be tagged when i posted this fic! it is probably the least "standard" reader fic i've ever written, but i liked the idea of using a reader character to frame the narrative, even if there isn't much importance to them :)

ao3 link || clone troopers masterlist

“Hello, you’ve reached the Grand Army of the Republic’s front office. If you know the extension of your party, you can dial it at any time. If you need to contact the Jedi Temple, please press 1. To reach the Kaminoan cloning facility, press 2. To get in touch with the Coruscant Guard, press 3 in the case of an emergency and 4 for the office of Commander Fox. If you’re interested in enlisting or aiding in the war effort in any way, please press 5. If you would like to speak to someone in our payroll and budgeting department, press 6. For all other inquiries, press 7. To listen to these options again, please remain on the line or press 8.”

Those were the options everyone got when they commed the number posted for the GAR. And half the time, those calls went to you in the payroll department. Rarely did they ever contain requests, demands, or complaints that you could ever do anything about, but they were entertaining (if nothing else).

you have *:･ﾟ✧ eight ✧ ﾟ･:* new messages

“Six.”

“Jesse.”

“What, Fives?”

“You have to press the button, not say the number.”

“I knew that. I did both.”

“Who are you even calling anyway?”

“Payroll.”

“But we don’t even get paid.”

“Exactly! I’m going to fix that”

“I don’t think this message is really selling it vod.”

“Oh kriff, is this thing already recording?”

“Rex is going to kill you.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

“Are you in charge of the budget? My name is General Skywalker, I wanted to talk to you about getting some new weaponry but General Kenobi seems to think that most of the GAR’s funding has already been allocated for this quarter. If he’s right, no need to call me back, but if there’s a few credits left laying around, please contact me as soon as possible. My troops and I have some ideas that might benefit more than just the 501st and would love to put our thoughts into action. If you want to get in touch, just contact Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo, she’ll be able to reach me.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

“Hello, this is Commander Thorn of the Coruscant Guard. I understand you’ve been in contact with Fox about new equipment for our commanding officers? Look, is there any way that we can divert those funds to cover a new caf machine and grounds that don’t actually taste like dirt? The commander would never ask for it himself, but in my personal opinion the effectiveness of the force would drastically increase if we didn’t have to drink the equivalent of Endorian mud water every morning when we came in to our shift. More so than if we got all new weapons and equipment. I heard that the 212th got a fancy caf machine with the excess funds from the last budget redraw, did their general have anything to do with it or could we have always just asked for it? Either way, let me or Fox know the status of the request as soon as possible. Thorn out.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

“This is General Kenobi. I’m calling to hopefully precede a communication you may receive from a pirate called Hondo Ohnaka asking for monetary compensation. Whatever he will claim that he has done for the Republic is likely nothing but trickery and lies, and there is certainly no reason to feel threatened by him. If you receive more than one communication from him or his crew, please reach out to me and I’ll handle the situation. If there is anything else you or the GAR office in general needs, you can always reach out to me or Commander Cody as well.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

“Alright, I have gotten through to the payroll and budget department. What supplies do we need at this point, Tech?”

“More explosives!”

“Wrecker, I highly doubt that the GAR’s payroll and budget receptionist will have the power to clear that kind of request. And besides, Hunter asked me, not you.”

“So what are you going to get? Better goggles?”

“No, he’ll just ask for a new ship to ruin.”

“You are all incredibly rude. My requests are based on when I took inventory of the medical supplies and tools on the ship. Speaking of which, maybe you should ask for more toothpicks, Crosshair.”

“I hate you all.”

“Guys, come on. We-”

But before the one calling could get through the rest of his sentence, a beep echoed from the answering machine, signaling the end of the communication on your line.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

“This is Hondo, the greatest pirate in the galaxy calling to collect on what is owed to me. Kenobi should have informed you that I will be in touch. Don’t believe anything he said about me, my service was invaluable to your war effort and I believe that it is only right for me to ask for what I am owed. Please call back and I will give you the full itinerary of my grievances, and if you don’t, I will not hesitate to break in and take what I want myself. I hope to speak soon.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

“How many massif treats do you think we need to get our point across, Sinker?”

“I don’t know, I feel like we should at least get a box or two, and send some to the Guard as well. Hound is always talking about how they need treats for Grizzer down there.”

“So should we really be dumping a bunch of them on the Commander’s bunk then?”

“Probably not, but if I had to walk around for an entire campaign with blue in my hair because of him, then he’s going to have to deal with the consequences.”

“I don’t know, I thought you looked nice!”

“Yeah, maybe if I was part of the 501st.”

“Good point, two boxes it is. Hopefully they got the message.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

“Hello, this is Kix, CT number 6116 calling from the flagship Resolute. The 501st will be arriving for a week of shore leave in two rotations, and I wanted to inform you of the supplies that we need to replenish in the medbay so I could arrange it to be delivered before we are deployed again. Please call back as soon as you can, either the comm in the medbay or Captain Rex’s direct line should be able to reach me in the event I miss your call. Thank you!”

You have *:･ﾟ✧ zero ✧ ﾟ･:* new messages

As the machine beeped to signal the end of the messages, you sighed in relief.

At least that last one was both feasible and reasonable.

-the end-

(divider credit to djarrex)

#clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker #commander thorn #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #obi wan kenobi #hondo ohnaka #arc trooper fives #clone trooper jesse #clone medic kix #the clone wars

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