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familyvideostevie · 10 months

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a taste of the light

thank you for voting in this poll! please enjoy sirius being sweaty and annoying and beautiful in the summertime | 1.2k, fluff

It's been a swelteringly hot week. So much so that it's easier to be outside and hopefully catch some breeze than inside with about a hundred fans running as you slowly melt into a puddle onto the vaguely chilled tiles of your kitchen floor.

That's why you're lounging on a blanket underneath a tree with Lily as your boyfriend and your other friends play...frisbee? It's very unclear as to what the rules are, if any, or if they're even playing a real game. It looks to you like they're just tossing the piece of plastic back and forth and tackling the shit out of each other as they get all grassy and gross.

Marlene keeps calling for you and Lily to join but you both wave her off in favor of sprawling on the blanket, munching on grapes, sipping lemonade, and "reading." Lily is actually sneaking glances at James as you do the same at Sirius.

"It's a bit embarrassing how much faster Marlene is," Lily muses. "They haven't got a chance when she sets off."

You cheer as your friend seems to score what amounts to a point in this game. "And yet they still try."

"So," Lily says. It's a tone you know well -- she's about to ask you something she knows you won't want to answer. "How's it going? With Sirius?"

You've been together for months now. They've been the most fun, most exciting, most tender months of your life. You've come to learn that Sirius is utterly besotted with you despite how cool he is on the outside. He's intimidating, loud, and a bit prickly but he's also funny, fiercely loyal, and quite tender. Not to mention he's frankly beautiful.

But you're not very good with words. "What do you mean?" you say instead, turning to face the boys. Your eyes wander to Sirius first, but he and Marlene are busy trying to out maneuver each other.

Lily tosses her firey hair over her shoulder and pops a grape into her mouth. "Oh, fine," she scoffs. "Play that game."

"You used to do that about James!" You remember back in the day before they figured their shit out when they used to moon at each other across every single room. Torturous for everyone involved.

She laughs loudly and you watch as James turns towards the sound like a flower towards the sun and consequently gets smacked in the head with a frisbee and falls to the ground.

"Eyes on the prize, Potter!" Lily calls, evidently not worried. "He's got a hard head," she says to you.

"Looking gorgeous, Evans!" James shouts from the ground.

"Don't think you're getting out of my question," she mutters, waving at him. Your eyes find Sirius again. He and Remus are now doing...cartwheels? Marlene is laughing at them as she goes to help James up.

Your boyfriend is the only one with his shirt off. His chest shines and you know he tossed it somewhere so he could show off his tattoos, which you can't complain about. He's got gorgeous pieces on his chest and back and arms, making him look like a rock god or something. It sounds corny in your own head but Sirius is gorgeous and you never know how to articulate it. His long tangle of curls are frizzy as he shakes them out like a dog, sweat glistening on his collarbones and the gold rings in his ears and nostril glinting in the sunshine. He's so beautiful it makes your stomach flip.

"We're happy," you tell Lily. She snorts.

"You're looking at him like you've just gotten back from starving on a desert island and he's your first meal."

It's your turn to laugh as you look back at your friend. "So verbose, Lily." She winks at you and then hops to her feet.

"Oi! Potter!" she calls, heading onto the grass. "Think you can bench me?"

Before you can think of following her, someone flops onto the blanket into her spot.

"Hiya, beautiful," Sirius says, resting his head into his hands. His muscles ripple. He's not sculpted, not exactly, but he's physically strong underneath it all as he is in so many things.

"Hiya...sweaty," you say. You take a sip of your lemonade just so you have something to do with your hands. You told Lily the truth -- it's been months and while he's seen every inch of you by now, sometimes he still makes you a little shy.

"You seemed to like it a few minutes ago when you were ogling me."

"I was not ogling you."

"Yes, you were," he says, grinning. His canines make him look wolfish. "A bit indecent, really."

"Sirius," you groan, reaching out to gently smack his bare chest and finding it tacky with sweat. You really should find it gross but you can admit that you like everything about him.

He catches your hand and holds it to his ribcage. "Sill like it up close?" he teases.

Your cheeks are on fire now and you look back to the field to see the rest of your friends up to their own shenanigans and not paying you any attention. You like Sirius. You like him a whole lot, actually. Most days you're pretty sure you love him and he is your boyfriend, but he's always been braver than you, louder, more confident.

"They're not watching," he says softly. "Which means I can do this." In an instant he's up and you're on your back on the blanket and he's over you, arms caging your face and knees bracketing your hips.

"Oh," you say, and he grins that wide grin again, the one that makes your belly tighten.

"Oh, indeed."

"You smell," you manage to say, clinging desperately to your rapidly fading composure. Sirius does it all -- he flirts with you, he riles you up, he satisfies you. But he also gets your favorite flavor of yoghurt from the shop to keep in his fridge and switched his detergent when it irritated your skin. He takes your makeup off when you're tired and lets you take off his when you're feeling a bit needy. You think he loves you and you hope he fesses up soon because you'd very much like to tell him. Maybe his bravery will rub off on you and you'll say it one of these days.

"You love it," he says, lightly rubbing your noses together. Your eyes flutter closed.

"Maybe," you tell him. His lips hover over yours and you can feel his breath. Just when you're about to wrap your arms around his neck and tug him down... someone shouts.

"Public indecency!" James cries. "Remus, call the authorities!" Sirius tugs you close, letting you bury your face in his neck. He really does smell.

"Leave them alone," Remus says. "Do I need you remind you of the time you and Lily got caught behind the laundromat --"

"Hey!" Lily shouts.

"Sorry, love," Sirius whispers before he kisses your cheek quickly and springs to his feet. He holds out his hand and hauls you up into his arms. You try to grimace but it probably comes out as more of a grin, despite how embarrassed you are.

"Sirius, you really are sweaty," you mumble.

"Too bad," he says. He turns you so your friends have a view of his back before leaning in to kiss you properly.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders

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ihni · 1 year

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Things I love to read in Billy and/or Harringrove fanfiction:

(Inspired by @grey-sides and in the hopes of spreading some love)

Billy and Max overcoming their problems to form a united front and start working together, and become better siblings to each other.

Realizations. The "oh" moments. The "oh shit" moments, the "oh fuck" moments, the "oh no no no..." moments. ALL the realizations! (So, like ... the boys finding out they're into each other, anyone finding out about Billy's home life, Billy finding out about monsters, both of them finally seeing another - more vulnerable - side of each other, etc etc etc)

This whole post

Billy getting to fight monsters too, especially if he can use it as an outlet for all that aggression and be badass and save people's asses and then be all blasé about it like "what? it's not like it's hard" *hair flip* (also Billy and an axe will NEVER be over-played!)

Physical whump (bruises, blood, hiding injuries, fighting, being pushed up against surfaces, threats, hands grabbing faces and throats and hair, being made to kneel, incapacitation, fighting through exhaustion/illness, manhandling, etc etc. I'm a whumper at heart, I want to inject all these things into my veins).

Emotional whump (being left out of things/ostracization, feeling lonely, overhearing something hurtful, keeping a straight face even though you're hurting inside, not expecting someone to come and save you when you're hurt/captive etc etc - ie my bread and butter).

Billy patching himself up (BOTH phisical and emotional whump, so, like a double-whammy!)

Billy in the upside down, as a very capable survivor. Give me Cast Away, only with Billy, and the Upside Down instead of an island ... ALL THE VERSIONS of that. I like my boy capable, and fighting for survival (I'm normal, I swear)

This post

Billy being touch-starved. I eat that up with a SPOON, all versions of it but especially the ones where he gets touch (angsty version; it's not a good kind of touch but he seeks it out anyway, fluffy version; he gets all the pets and hugs!)

The boys coming back from the upside down and having gotten used to being close, so they get anxious when they don't have eyes on each other (yes I've written it. yes I've read it. yes I love it)

Having to share a room/doing a project togehter because their last names both start with H. Like forced proximity, school version. Mmmm, delicious.

When Billy is ridiculously weak for Steve and would do anything for him (especially if Steve has no idea about he power he wields). Basically Steve as the Billy-whisperer.

Billy getting good parents. I don't even care who at this point, I'll read all of them: Joyce, Hopper, Claudia, Mr Clarke (Mr CLARKE <3), Bob, Flo, that grumpy librarian ... Just give him good parental figures (and let him STRUGGLE with accepting that he's finally safe!)

Scars. All the fics about scars. Angsty scars, proud scars, mental scars, scars on the skin, first time someone is allowed to touch someone else's scars. Just, <3

Badass, BADASS moments, by both Billy and Steve. Smashing demodogs to pieces, rescuing themSELVES from bad situations, etc.

Guilt. <3 That usually comes after the realization moments, but mmmmm, a side of guilt to that? Fucking delicious, I will live off that for weeks. Like, having someone realize what Neil is doing and then feeling GUILTY about it (maybe they caused Billy to be hurt, or maybe they made it worse, or maybe a beating could have been avoided if they'd acted differently), that's my JAM.

That moment when Billy/Steve start calling the other by their first name instead of their last name ...

Self-sacrifice (filed under whump, but can be both physical, mental or simply implied). There doesn't even have to be a real threat of getting hurt, the self-sacrificing idiot (I prefer Billy) just have to THINK there is.

Basic needs not being met ... until they are. (So, say ... Billy being hungry, thirsty, tired, thrown out of the house ... and then finally getting to eat, drink, sleep, get inside)

#tropes #harringrove #billy hargrove #fanfiction #things I love in fanfics #ihni loves #this is just a selection btw #I don't have time to add more to it but this is a TINY part of what i love to read

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minnesota-fats · 1 year

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I was rereading a Dead Marvel x Danny Phantom crossover ( last updated in 2014, RIP ) called Marvel Phantom by Slayer Anderson, and here is the Summary.

So...the Fentons punch a hole through to the afterlife in their basement, and develop unparalleled hover technology and...they're crackpots?

In that fic, that gets played seriously because they showed their tech and a brief glimpse of the Ghost Zone to the News for an interview on their studies and everyone on the planet, from Companies to the Military, wants their tech.

Like they made a physic cancelers shd gravity inverters for their hover machines to study ghosts, not knowing that what they did went beyond groundbreaking and make every technology look like it came from the stone age.

That they are actually geniuses that do genius things despite being 'kooky.'

And you know what, that author is right. Are there any other stories out there where someone stops and says 'You built a what in your basement that did what?!

Sure, Amity is Amity which deals with weird supernatural shit, so they get a pass on not actually stopping and thinking that, but what's everyone else excuse?

Suddenly imagine everyone knows about FentonTech and what they can do.

Remember the Fenton Crammer that can shrink humans and inanimate objects? And if a ghost gets shrunk, their powers get weaker? That can be very useful to transport stuff that would had taken time and money.

Or how they have a what's basically a futuristic tank for a RV that has a lot of space?

Or that they have an Emergency Ops Center on their home that can turn into a hover vehicle.

All of the anti-ghost weapons.

I can go on and on, but things can get funny/ hairy real fast.

Wayne Ent, Lex Corp, Cadmus, every military will want a generous piece of that Fenton Pie, with the Fentons going, what's the big deal? We only made this for ghosts and shit. Whatever happened because of that was a happy accident.

Also imagine Lex Luthor about to pop a blood vessel, and holding himself back from throttling Jack during a talk .

Lex: 'Let me get this straight. You built a pocket-sized mini nuclear reactor that can power the US for six generations at full capacity and still have the juice to power an extra two, and instead of using that to for the betterment of mankind and showing those aliens ( cough Superman cough ) their place, you use it to power a pastry machine homemade peanut butter FUDGE!?'

Jack: Gourmet peanut butter fudge! :D it even makes pies and cookies. That nice Superhero with that A on his chest sure loved the Apple Pie it made!

Luthor: *collaspes and start to foam at the mouth out of rage, shock and disbelief*

Vlad that was sitting at a corner: *Sniff*. 'Welcome to my world.'

Bro this is HILARIOUS!!!!

This is the type of chaos I LIVE FOR!

I know little to nothing of Alex Luther other than the fact that he is a xenophobe…. And that he got cancer from being a xenophobe. (Ha! that’s how it should be for racists and such(jk cancer is actually really bad and not a joke))

He would just be MAD that these social idiots would have been able to go all of this with NO FUNDING!

Like seriously where did they get the money to do this crap????

Also Vlad crying in the corner is so funny to me, the grown ass man being a pouty bitch cuz he can’t have a woman he simpped for for 20 plus years!

Wish I could add more but I can’t possibly think of what else to add other than this.

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northwest-cryptid · 7 months

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I hope you all know you're allowed to simply care about your own lives, the lives of your friends; the things in your immediate circle that you have control over.

It doesn't make you a bad person to be happy while there's shit going wrong in the world. It doesn't make you a bad person if you don't stand behind every single cause ever. It doesn't make you a bad person if you are happy living a life focused on you and those important to you.

You're not arrogant for caring about the things that matter to you, in your life. The internet has given us such a wider scale of understanding on the world, and the social culture "forces" people to care about the bigger picture.

It's so stupid, yes it's nice to care about important things from around the world; yes if you can make a difference, doing so is always going to be appreciated. However getting upset with someone or calling them arrogant or saying they're naïve and "live in their own optimistic world" as if that's some kind of bad thing, would be like if I said "I have no money for rent, and if you don't have money to give me you're a real piece of shit."

It just doesn't ACTUALLY make sense. I don't blame a 16 year old, a 25 year old, or even a 45 year old for not being able to muster the energy to say "I care so much about climate change and poverty" every fucking day of their lives. I'm sure that if you approached them and asked "hey this dude is homeless even though there's thousands of houses available but the government won't let him live there rent free should we fix that" they'd likely say "yes of course?" Like just because they're not vocally and actively preaching their support or hatred of something doesn't mean they don't have an opinion on it, nor does it mean they don't DO ANYTHING. For all you know this dude volunteers at a soup kitchen and donates to charity fuck off.

If you ask me what I dislike in life I'd sooner say "when I order coffee that's supposed to be sweet but it's still way too bitter" instead of "the economy being so fucked that I will never own a house within my lifetime and billionaires keep polluting the planet and creating sweatshops and killing people, money is so fucked we shouldn't have to have money to survive" LIKE COME ON DUDE WHO ACTUALLY TALKS LIKE THAT? Someone out there said "me" and they're probably a self proclaimed activist who thinks I'm so wrong for this

but here let me flip the script for a sec alright? Do you care about Indigenous people? Of course you do right? It's morally correct after all, so then why haven't I seen you post about the Murdered and Missing Indigenous Women movement? What do you mean you didn't know MMIW was a thing? I thought we were all meant to be aware of literally every single problem for every single person in the whole world and be vocal and active about it. Now sure I could educate you about MMIW but instead isn't it easier if I say "I don't know man I think if you actually cared you'd have taken 2 fucking seconds to look up every single problem my people face so that you could actively and vocally hate white people because that's the only way to stop people from dying."

If you're not picking up on what I'm saying here, it's fucking impossible to care about literally every problem on a global scale all the time every day of your life, it's exhausting to have to live in fear about how everyone is going to see you if you're not vocally and actively speaking out about this or that or the other. Or if you're not as active about doing something about it as they are, or if you're not doing the "RIGHT" thing about it.

It's okay to focus on your own life. It's okay to care more about this fucking mid-term or final you have to take than about a war or about some movement. Do those wars and movements still MATTER? Sure, and I'm sure you probably do care about them if the topic comes up but come on man should I really expect you to just constantly bring it up?

Like hell if we're out at dinner and I say "how was your day" and you tell me "well I mean I would be happy but with climate change being what it is; you know-" I'm just going to get up and leave, not because I don't care about climate change; believe me I do. I've been a damn activist my whole life I care plenty for it; but because no one wants to talk about that shit over dinner man! You're preaching to the choir! I already know this shit I don't need to hear it every day.

We live in a time where information is available and therefore we expect everyone to be educated on everything, to care about everything, to do everything we do, to say everything we say, to prove to us that they're worthy of being a "good person" over and over and over again.

Fuck it all man, live your life. Live YOUR life.

I'm not saying you shouldn't care about the problems of the world, they matter all the same, and again if you can do something then great get out there and do it! However I don't expect you to prove your worth to me, I don't expect you to feel this social pressure to be some "good person" in MY moral code.

That's exhausting, that's impossible.

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comicbookhyperfixationtime · 4 months

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Uncanny X-men #197- To Save Arcade?!?

Again, not doing a full review. Don't want to talk about Piotr and Kitty's relationship again. See my last post.

Last Issue Recap: The X-men foiled an assassination attempt on Professor X, who is hiding his failing health and powers. A reformed Magneto and Rachel had a heart to heart. Kitty Pryde said the N-word.

What is with this trend of every issue title having a million punctuation marks? This cover is definitely a step up from the last two by sheer virtue of the scene on the cover actually happening in the issue. Honestly it feels very nostalgic, all the X-men are in their old uniforms, Cyclops and Storm are back, and they're fighting Doom again

Damn if he really goes through pajamas that much he should just grab some extra blankets and sleep in the nude because that has to be more convenient.

By the way, for all y'all who don't know who Arcade is (so, most people), he's an old X-men villain-for-hire whose schtick was like... killer escape rooms. Like he has this absurdly OTT lair called Murderworld and its sort of like Saw except instead of dingy white tiles and rusty spiky shit he's got absurdly realistic robots and holographs other magitek.

Also he dresses like this.

So, TLDR, Dr Doom put a hit out on Arcade and he's kidnapped recruited Kitty and Colossus to protect him, with the assistance of his giant army of X-men robots.

Also, it feels like the comic is trying to gaslight me into believing that's Colossus' uniform and always has been but I remember that slutty sideboob too well, you can't fool me.

I love how fucked up Marvel civilians are. When Spiderman accidentally sneezes on someone he's a menace who must be gunned down but when a pink robot who can disguise himself as any human brutally vaporizes two robbers in cold blood he's bigger than hula hoops.

Goddamnit they pulled the old "Actually a Doombot" retcon on the original Avenger's confrontation with Doom in X-men #145-7, which is just bullshit because I actually liked that story. Also, I refuse to believe it took practically the whole team three issues to defeat a Doombot but the real deal can be taken out by a literal child and the X-men's least impressive punchy guy in one. Ok, headcanon time, Arcade is lying to freak out Piotr and Kitty so they'll take this more seriously.

NGL its kind of rough to repeatedly see the X-men horrifically murdered by Doom, even if their organs are just robot bits.

You could just kill him. I mean, he's right there. I'm honestly super shocked Arcade followed through and let them go though.

All in all didn't like this issue. All of Piotr and Kitty's interactions make me uncomfy even when they're not still actively flirting (*shudder*). Also, the Murderworld was overall pretty bland by Murderworld standards. The X-men robots and not knowing which Kitty/Colossus was a robot and which was the real deal was an interesting gimmick but the fight only took place in one set piece which fails like a waste of a good Murderworld. On the bright side:

STORM'S ALIVE! Glad they didn't keep us hanging for too long.

(oh btw also Cyclops is temporarily rejoining the team to help Prof X but the scene of him saying goodbye to Madeline Prior was too wholesome for me to make jokes about so I skipped it).

#comic books #marvel comics #kitty pryde #colossus #piotr rasputin #arcade (marvel comics)#nimrod #storm #cyclops was technically also there #I hope this is remotely coherent and entertaining

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elkkiel · 3 months

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I think we need to take a step back and remind people of things like "don't like, don't read." Fandom culture is feeling increasingly puritanical in what is or is not acceptable to explore in fanworks, and the policing of fan creators is suppressing creativity for fear of public shame or harassment. It's *okay* to explore controversial, fringe, or even taboo topics or opinions. It's okay!! Fiction doesn't equal reality, but it can certainly be a way to reflect upon it. Applying a blanket ban to anything that feels uncomfortable or weird purposefully ignores nuance and differing perspectives, and wow is that a dangerous route to continue following.

Fictional step-siblings whose parents got married later in their lives and never developed a sibling bond might develop other feelings instead. Fictional victims of violent crimes may have complicated relationships with their abuser/attacker that would raise eyebrows for outsiders. Fictional people with horrible, hateful ideologies may also be a victim to their circumstances/upbringing that could paint them in a more sympathetic light. They're all complex explorations of controversial topics, so just slapping on labels like incest or abuse/<ideology> apology completely ignores the nuance of the story and the intentions of the author.

In terms of rpf, of course that gets a lot more complicated. It's important to consider both common human decency/baseline levels of respect and explicity-stated boundaries when dealing with real people. Unsurprisingly, a lot of folks might not be super keen on being depicted in uncomfortable or distasteful scenarios. If you're the one making the fanwork, be careful in how you approach certain topics and consider the impact should the subject of your story see it. If it's really "that bad," put it on private or take measures to limit visibility.

If you're someone who stumbled upon a fanwork that you find offensive, distasteful, or boundary breaking, holy shit do NOT amplify it. I'm by no means saying that people should stay quiet about fucked up things, but again, consider the impact on those who may also end up seeing it. For example, if it's a work that touches on a character's (rpf or not) past CSA, would it do more harm than good to then expose potential real life victims of CSA to that work? In calling out a work or fan author, do you then put that piece of media on the real person's timeline where they otherwise would've avoided it? It's kinda like posting screenshots of offensive tweets with 2 likes to your main account of 5k followers. You might find it fucked up, but now everyone else has seen the fucked up thing while they otherwise would have not. Be mindful of what you bring attention to and if it's necessary to give it attention at all.

So yeah that's my stream of consciousness from spending like 5 minutes on twitter this morning. I may have worded some of this a little weirdly, so feel free to reply/send an ask if anything needs clarification.

#fandom critical #the overpolicing of fanworks will never cease to piss me off #people are so quick to make fanworks a moral issue when theyre the ones who chose to read in the first placr #elkk.txt

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angrelysimpping · 1 year

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October Prompts Day 31: Trick-or-Treat

GN Wren (they/them); GN Reader (you/your); attempted sexual assault by a male police officer; mentioned blackmail; implied past noncon; violence

Words: 886

You nearly scream as the window to your room slides open. Even though you knew Wren said they'd be stopping by to see you, you hadn't expected the smuggler to come climbing in through the window.

It's almost worse that they're wearing a police uniform.

"Hey, sweetness, lovely meeting you here."

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to throw something at the smuggler, lest they fall out the window.

Wren gives you a rakish smile, seemingly amused by your reaction. Once they properly get into your room, Wren eyes you, blatantly checking out the costume you managed to scrape together. Your face grows warm as their eyes linger, but you don't bother trying to cover yourself. Wren's seen you in less, anyway.

"Mummy, creative."

"Piss off, it's all I can afford since someone keeps stealing my clothes."

"Aw," Wren coos, "someone still mad about losing their monster hoodie? You knew the rules of the game, sweets, and you weren't complaining then if I do recall correctly."

This time, you do chuck something at Wren, a small, soft teddy bear that you’d bought on a whim. The smuggler catches it with a laugh.

“Don’t be like that,” Wren says, all but purring as they grin at you, “or I might have to lock you up and we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Their hand drifts down to their belt, hovering over a pair of very real-looking handcuffs.

A soft knock at your door saves you from having to deal with more of Wren’s shenanigans.

The night goes surprisingly smooth. That is, after you assure Robin that everything is fine when you walk out of your room with a person dressed as a police officer that they've never seen before. You'd been wary about Wren joining you and Robin in taking the younger orphans trick or treating, but they behave themself. You actually find yourself thankful that the smuggler tagged along, showing your group little shortcuts and pointing out the houses that gave the best candy.

“Evening.”

A chill goes down your spine at the voice. A police officer. An actual police officer. One you’ve had to deal with before. And he’s looking right at you, a small, smug smirk on his face as he heads straight to where you are waiting on the sidewalk for the last of your group to finish up at the house. It’s the last one of the night, too, and you’d almost been lucky enough to not…what? What would this corrupt piece of shit have you do now? No permits were needed to trick or treating, no tulips were being ripped from their beds, and no uppity tourists with missing watches or rings. What could he possibly try to blackmail you with this time?

Not that it mattered, really. You’d still do whatever he demanded of you if it meant keeping the others safe. It’s a fate you’ve resigned yourself to. One he must recognize in the way you fold in on yourself a little but do nothing to get away from him as he picks up his pace.

His hand lands on your shoulder, harder than necessary and making you flinch. “Let’s go somewhere private.” You shudder, the scent of alcohol heavy on his breath.

You don’t hear Robin calling out your name as the officer leads you away from the group. You can barely hear the things he’s going to do to you muttered under his breath as he gets you further and further away from your friends, your heart pounding in your ears.

You half expect him to bring you to his police car and lay you in the back seat, but he doesn’t. Instead, he shoves you into an alley and presses you against the cold wall.

You screw your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever comes next.

The crack of a baton meeting something solid makes your eyes snap back open.

The man lays on the ground, knocked out, a wildly grinning Wren standing over him, twirling a baton between their fingers. “Man, these things pack way more of a punch than I remember.”

You exhale shakily, grabbing Wren’s attention as they look up from the officer. Their grin drops. “Hey, darlin’, you okay?”

You nod but there’s something in Wren’s voice, the soft look in their eye, that makes your resolve crumble, a few tears striking down your cheeks. You swipe at them hastily, giving Wren a shaky grin. “Yeah…yeah, I’m good.”

Wren studies you for a moment before nodding, “‘Course you are. That’s why we’re going out for drinks.”

You try to object but Wren’s already got an arm around you, the warmth of their body and familiar scent comforting. Safe. Even though you didn’t fully trust Wren, you found them safe. You find yourself tongue-tied as you fight off a wave of tears. “The others-,” you finally manage to splutter out, “I need to take them b-back, and I don’t have- I can’t-”

“Sent the kiddies back to the orphanage all safe and it’ll be my treat. Besides, Landry owes me. You know Landry, right? Lil’ thief like you should. We’ll take care of ya, don’t you worry your pretty little head, got it?”

Wren gives you a firm squeeze, and you can’t help a watery giggle, agreeing as Wren pulls you along.

#ive got day 30 half written but i want to write wren #i want to write wren a lot #all the time #so #this one first #sorry this isn't exactly fluff or anything but uh #it ran away with me #tw blackmail #cw blackmail #tw attempted assault #cw attempted assault #tw past noncon #cw past noncon #wren the smuggler #degrees of lewdity #fall fluff

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iviarellereads · 1 year

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Gideon the Ninth, Chapter 24

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one!)

(Sixth House icon) In which Gideon makes a terrible joke.

Everyone's heads followed the sound--except for Ianthe Tridentarius, who was lounging in her chair with one eyebrow raised, and Naberius Tern, who had issued the challenge.(1)

Tern jumps onto the table as Coronabeth says, faintly, that no, he doesn't. Ianthe says this is Corona's chance for a facility key, isn't it? Judith's face has "an expression of grim alarm" as she's putting pressure on her cavalier's injuries, and says they have no cause. Either Ianthe or Naberius(2) says neither did Judith, really. Judith protests that she was trying to save lives, and they're just giving in to chaos, and there are rules to follow. Ianthe says that no, Judith has proven quite effectively that there are not rules, only the challenge and the answer.

Ianthe looks at Corona, who "was somewhere beyond fury and shame now, and had lost every atom of her poise", and says this may be the only chance they have, and not to feel bad, because "what can you do?" Corona's struggle drops, and she seems filled with exhaustion and relief. Gideon realizes they've lost her when she says "I can do nothing."(3)

Camilla stands, the handkerchief tied on her arm wound already showing blood. Gideon, experiencing the powerful emotion of "being sick of everyone's shit", draws her rapier and pulls on her knuckle knives, and looks at Harrow, willing her to, for the first time in either of their lives, do what Gideon needs her to do.

Harrow, to her credit, understands, and says boredly that "The Ninth House will represent the Sixth House," as if it's preplanned. Gideon could sing and dance, but instead breaks into an unnervingly large smile at Naberius Tern. Ianthe asks when Ninth became "bosom"(4) with Sixth. Harrow says they aren't, but when probably-Ianthe-again begins to ask "Then-" she's cut off.

Harrowhark said, in the exact sepulchral tones of Marshal Crux: "Death first to vultures and scavengers."

At this, Jeannemary bursts into action, jumping up onto the table to declare that after they face Ninth, Sixth will face Fourth, declaring, "Fidelity, and the Emperor!"

Naberius sheathes his rapier and knife, "rolling his eyes so hard that they ought to have fallen backward into his sinuses." He says he should have stayed home to be married off, not come here. Ianthe snaps that no one was offering anyway, and Silas says that if they're all done, he and Colum are going to search for Protesilaus. Palamedes says their search will no doubt include the keys they've taken, in doors they've been unable to open. Silas says he has no interest in speaking to Palamedes anymore, as "an unfinished inbred who passed an examination." He adds that Camilla is a "mad dog" and he doubts that she's even a real cavalier primary.(5)

Eighth thusly retreats like two people reluctant to turn their back to a room full of enemies.

Palamedes walks over to Harrow and says there's only one more key. Harrow frowns and asks, one more to be claimed? No, Palamedes clarifies, they're all claimed. He's been through every challenge except the one he wouldn't do for Septimus. Gideon and Isaac put the pieces of this conversation together at the same time, but it's Isaac who asks what happens if you go through a challenge that someone else already completed. Palamedes says, you get nothing but the challenge of the puzzle. Jeannemary calls it a waste of time, but Palamedes says it's still instructional as to what the intent of the program is. He appeals to Harrow, who says that the challenges she's done so far have forced her to consider new ideas. Palamedes compares it to someone showing you a new sword move, but not giving you the book about how it works. Camilla, Gideon, and Jeannemary all give him A Look, and Jeannemary asks, horrified, if Sixth learns swordfighting from books. Camilla says no, he just hasn't been to the sword training spire since he got lost when he was five and…

Before Palamedes can protest that, Harrow grabs the reins of the conversation, and says that the challenge without the theorem can only suggest possibilities, not reveal purposes. Isaac intuits that the theorems are behind the locked doors, then, so one needs the keys for the doors to progress. Everyone else stares at the teens, and Jeannemary says they know about the doors, they've seen people going through them, but they haven't been able to do anything else. Palamedes says nothing stopped them from getting their own facility key, but Isaac says that Abigail asked them to wait for her.(6)

Palamedes confirms that there are eight doors, one for each House, and they each have notes on their respective theorems. Put together they presumably create a larger whole: the secret of Lyctorhood.

Jeannemary finally catches up to the conversation properly and asks what Palamedes meant by there being one more key. Palamedes says he's been keeping track of the amount and distribution of keys, but he wasn't sure how many Dulcinea had. Silas showed them her keyring with two unique keys on it, which means there's one left that he didn't account for, and they have to figure out where it is.

Camilla says they need to find the seventh cav, and Pal adds they have to work out who's in the incinerator. As much as he hates to admit it, Ianthe was right: there was more than one body in there. Isaac says Fourth's priority is solving Magnus and Abigail's murder. Palamedes says warmly that he thinks answering the other questions will help explain that one, and tells Harrow that Protesilaus was in the facility last night. Isaac and Jeannemary say they saw him go in, and Harrow says it makes sense, given that Dulcinea said "He didn't come back," before she fainted, and her keyring had only challenge keys, no hatch access.

Jeanne is all for going down into the facility to find Protesilaus right off, but Palamedes says they should split up, as he would prefer not to leave Septimus unguarded. Harrow is confused, why does she need a guard if her keys are gone? Camilla says she's vulnerable, and Palamedes points out that Abigail and Magnus had no keys when they were murdered, therefore the reasons for all the events leading up to today are in flux, and now his cav is injured. He's planning to wet himself "lavishly" until she's healed up, with everything else in play. Isaac giggles, but Camilla says it's only her right hand. Palamedes says, more like his right hand.

Harrow asks what Palamedes suggests for splitting the party. He responds that Fourth and Gideon stay with Dulcinea, and Sixth and Harrow go into the facility to search. He gets more than one bewildered stare, and Harrow herself asks why he would put himself and his injured cavalier into a position to be overwhelmed by Harrow alone. Palamedes says he's placing trust in her, because if she wanted his keys by force, she'd have challenged him long ago. Gideon, who knows Harrow, sees her go from ashen to nauseous green. Nobody else would notice, but it's like fireworks going off.

Finally, Harrow agrees to the split, but says she and Sixth should stay with Dulcinea, as Camilla's injury makes her even more vulnerable down in the facility. Palamedes agrees, and asks if Fourth are alright with the plan. Isaac looks at Jeannemary, who says Gideon's "all right", and the rumours about the Ninth House are probably bullshit anyway. Gideon's heart flutters, despite Harrow's getting in the way of her sitting with Dulcinea.

Finally, Palamedes asks if Gideon has any thoughts on the situation.

She cracked the joints in the back of her neck as she considered the question, stretching out the ligaments, popping her knuckles. He urged again, "Thoughts?" "Gideon said, "Did you know that if you put the first three letters of your last name with the first three letters of your first name, you get 'Sex Pal'?" The dreadful teens both stared with eyes so wide you could have marched skeletons straight through them. "You--do you talk?" said Isaac. "You'll wish she didn't," said Camilla.

Harrow passes over the Ninth keyring, telling Gideon to "Come back with these or having choked on them," and to be careful of the Fourth because children's prefrontal cortexes haven't finished developing.(7) Gideon hugs Harrow tightly, pulling her up off the ground, before she or Harrow know what she's doing. Her brain finally catches up to her arms and she puts Harrow back down and thanks her "midnight hagette"(8) for backing her up. Harrow has gone limp and glassy-eyed like an animal faking death, but snaps at Gideon to not make this weird, before going over to Palamedes.

Jeannemary shyly comes up to Gideon and asks if she and Harrow have been paired for long, as Isaac braids her hair. Gideon thinks about the braid, and about Palamedes tending Camilla's wound. Gideon still isn't sure what the relationship between cavalier and necromancer is supposed to be, but she says "It feels like forever," and puts on her sunglasses(9) before suggesting they get moving.

=====

(1) Not who you expected? Or is it? (2) Like Ianthe, since she spoke last of the two, and she speaks next of them. (3) Is this an innocent usage of the phrase… or did Ianthe mean something else, and does Corona mean more in her response than mere acquiescence to a dominant sibling's will? (4) I assume this is related to "bosom buddies" or "bosom friends", implying an intimately close friendship. (5) Isn't that funny, given, y'know, Gideon. (6) So they knew about the keys before the night they died, so… why did they wait until then to go and get their own? Especially since we know Abigail's academic work was related to Lyctors, from that snippet at the dinner party, and the letters at the beginning of this story said explicitly that the Emperor was looking for new Lyctors. (7) Harrow is 17 and Gideon is 18 so theirs haven't finished either, for what that's worth. (8) Like, a miniature hag, because Harrow is so tiny. (9) Doesn't quite fit the "clever quip, put on sunglasses" meme from CSI Miami but I'm counting it as close enough.

#the locked tomb #tlt #gideon the ninth #gtn #gideon the ninth spoilers #gtn spoilers #gideon nav #ianthe tridentarius #naberius tern #coronabeth tridentarius #judith deuteros #harrowhark nonagesimus #jeannemary chatur #silas octakiseron #camilla hect #isaac tettares #palamedes sextus

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ketbra · 4 months

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sorry to bring up ancient history from mid-October, but someone who codes using AI tools IS a programmer, just like someone who uses them for art is an artist. Most programmers learned to code by copying other people’s code piecemeal, maybe tweaking the parts they could figure out until it did what they wanted, and it doesn’t make any difference if they get the code from an AI instead. People cribbing from Stack Overflow are programmers, people who code with those building-block UIs are programmers, people who write basic bash scripts for the commandline are programmers, people arranging machine instructions in binary are programmers. Do you see? They’re all creating. Where would we be if we had stopped at punchcards because typing a program was too easy? However easy we make it, there will still be further goals to strive for. (Also, anyone who claims you need to know bubblesort to be a programmer is a fool and probably a poser.)

Hi anon, I'm actually glad my posts from mid-october don't get read and forgotten and i really appreciate the question because I don't think this website has enough middle ground on the topic to have a conversation that isn't just hate from both sides.

So, I get where you're coming from, there are many different types of programmers and there are many different types of artists, and it's true that not all of them know bubblesort because maybe some programmers kept on working and developing other aspects (an assembly programmer and an html developer have surely different views on the same topic)

and it's so very much true that you can find code on stack overflow, or directly ask chatgpt for a function and you can add those strings to your code. or you can use tools for building the UI all you want

but there is a difference between asking AI tools for a piece of code and knowing how it works. You can have a completely working program or app that you ask AI to code for you and you might have the idea for that app, but if you don't know how the code works then you're not the one who programmed it. And I don't mean it to minimize anyone's work, but if one reads a piece of code, (with all the context needed to understand it) and doesn't know how it works, then that person isn't a programmer.

I'm not saying different types of developers need to know everything about every language, but they do know the one they're using.

The difference between copying a piece of code into your code and getting the code completely written by someone/something else is that in the first instance you know what you're doing and you're asking for help, in the second you're commissioning a final product.

And I think this can be applied to art as well, an artist knows so many things we take for granted, the pressure, how light and shadows work, anatomy, prospective, materials, contrast, which color evokes that specific emotion and so on.

Now, is every draw painted by a real person art? (tumblr is going to hate me for this but) no, not every draw is art, there's always a subjective element in these discourse but personally I don't think everything is art, or that everything is a ode to the human condition, sometimes one draws a doodle and it's fun and doesn't hold the weight of being called art.

Is every draw painted by AI shit? (and tumblr is going to hate me for this as well but) no. sometimes AI art is wonderful and sometimes it's just fun, I use it with friends, we make silly pictures to send eachother and birthday cards. and it's fun, and pretty and we're all programmers and it's harmless.

And the thing is, that I am pro AI-art just not in the way it is now. I think the scraping of every picture on the internet to train AIs has been a little invasive and kind of unfair. I think the best way to get AI tools and human artists together is to have AI trained on every classical painting and draw at museums and in history books, and then, if there are specific modern styles a company selling AI tools wants to add to its portfolio then they should get in contact with said artists and pay them for their work and ask permission to use their art.

the way I see it, it's like if you made a funny post on the internet, and a company copies and pastes it on their own profile and makes it look like it was its pr team who thought about it. And I mean they don't get anything directly out of it, but also there's a value in the image a company has online.

I think this answer is very long already and I just want to finish it with the actual answer to the question. I don't think AI artists can call themselves that. I don't think they're artists, they're for sure creative people and they can have good, great, ideas like everyone one else but if they don't have the knowledge to create those pieces on their own then they're not artists. Designers, picture architects, prompt makers, people with great ideas but not artists.

And before you tell me yeah but you still need some tools to make art, you can't not do it "on your own", yes but there's a difference between drawing with an ipad and typing a prompt into mid-journey.

You could end up with the same exact result and people might not even recognize one is AI but it's not the same thing as being an artist.

I can design a wool hat to the detail, but that makes me a designer, not a knitter. BUT those figures can and do collaborate, it's just that in this very moment AI tools aren't making it possible to have a conversation. they stole from the world wide web and they did it for profit. and it always ends up like this, it's always a marketing tool.

#ai art #how to be hated by ai user and traditional artist at the same time #but guys we should appreciate one anoth-#*gets shot on the spot*#AI

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smolfailure · 3 years

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FUCK IT, DREAM SMP HOMESTUCK AU

but it's only half shitposts and there are actual Thoughts in there.

You don't need to have read the comic to understand because I tried not to spoil anything major, but it'd help if you knew basic stuff about classpects, SBURB and the hemospectrum.

disclaimer: i'm not a good pixel artist and this is my first actual sprites ever so please be kind to my weird pixels

The Kids:

Tommy

Fundy

Techno

Tubbo

tommy, tubbo and fundy one of the kids because they're the kids in dream smp canon (with fundy being son of wilbur)

techno's there because i want to make a dave strider reference (haha get it because techno's name is also da-- *gets shot) and also because they are both coolguys except instead of using irony, techno has adhd

The Trolls:

Wilbur Soohte (fuschia)

?????? Ehrret (violet)

J????? Shlatt (purple)

Nihacu Niikki (indigo)

Skeppy Diamon (cerulean)

Quacki Tthiey (teal)

Philza Myncra (jade)

Dreame Wastkn (lime disguising as olive)

George Notfou (gold)

Sapphe Nahfpe (bronze)

Badboy Haelow (burgundy)

don't come at me saying only females are allowed to be jades and fuschias; gender is fake and this is an au

more of the AU and the talksprites are under the cut:

Tommy

Lunar sway: Derse. Types in: Red

chaotic. the first person to be introduced.

when he gets introduced instead of the “Zoosmell Pooplord” bit, Tommy is initially going to be the name inputted but then backspaced it and decided that Tommyinnit was better and he was fuming until he’s named Tommy.

Gives me big Blood/Hope vibes. Blood because a lot of the conflict of the dream smp connected to someone breaking his trust or harming the things he cares about, Hope because a lot of the plot of the dream smp stems from Tommy starting shit based on his ideals and what he thinks is right.

the first to instigate fighting against the trolls

bbh contacts him once and tommy keeps cursing until he disconnects from frustration rip

wields Gunkind and his only strife weapon at the beginning is the Vlog gun. He has Gunkind as his strife specibus mainly because he looked up at schlatt and he imitates him.

Fundy

Lunar sway: Prospit. Types in: Orange

it was his idea to play SBURB but only through Dream.

he talks to dream the most among the other trolls fwt stans getcha juice this is the rosemary of the session

dream’s the one giving him exposition about the game so that’s how he knows how to play SBURB.

wilbur trolls fundy once and instantly adopts him.

“You’re my son.” “How does that even work??” “I was one of the people who created your universe. It’s basically the same thing.”

Fundy relents anyway.

Techno

Lunar sway: Derse. Types in: Pink

dave strider but dead-inside voice + rose lalonde english major vibes

he slices the text box when you try to name him "Dave " like in

techno gives me time player vibes (contantly on the move. his skyblock series, his “stays in the pit” monologue,) but also rage vibes (anarchy, the “theseus” monologue, political alignment is Chaos) alas i am not sure what class

uses Tridentkind and claims "it came from god"

it was dream, he accidentally transportalized one of wilbur’s weapon while he testing the transportalizer.

Tubbo

Lunar sway: Prospit. Types in: Green

the jade harley of this session. the only thing keeping them from going apeshit. where would they be without him.

but also jade harley in a sense that he seems nice and wholesome but also don’t fuck with them they can mess you up

Heart/Life vibes??? someone good at classpecting help

i put them in prospit bc of the "tubbo third eye" instead of tubbo having a sixth sense or smth, they see the future from the clouds of skaia when they sleep

wields Stress-relieverKind at some point

bonus: everyone’s actual hair colors

Ideas about the Trolls

no i haven’t done their sprites yet bc it would take so much time and i’m not even sure if people wanna see more of this au skjdkdsakdfkl,, but i have Design Ideas.

events of the dsmp revolution are just a FLARP session drawing parallels to how the homestuck trolls had a FLARP session that spoiler alert: destroyed friendships. dtrio, eret, will are involved. eret betrays will's faction and wilbur's still Bitter over that.

on the context of alternia (highbloods and lowbloods) lmanburg and dreamsmp have their roles SWAPPED. the emancipation theme thing is completely gone since highbloods are in more power than the lowbloods (the dream team) .

wilbur made a faction called l’manburg because he wants a place where he and his fellow highbloods could make drugs vibe.they take a piece of land that was owned by the dream team. in normal circumstances, they shouldve stood down because lowbloods aren't supposed to start shit with highbloods (especially a group of highbloods that has the alternian heir among them) but dream turned it into an activism thing about lowblood rights. the story plays as close as possible without tommy or tubbo in it (which is pretty hard ik but this is the best can do).

like in the dreamsmp revolution, dream kinda let wilbur do what he wants but this time he has more reason to because he’s in a lower caste. dream really only fought back when wilbur announced that he’d be building lmanburg on their land and calling it theirs.

eret betrays wilbur by supporting the lowbloods and wilbur and co. technically won but only because he finally called the drones in, as a reference to how lmanburg absolutely got crushed by the dream team in the smp but technically won. l’manburg keeps the piece of land and the dream team scatter away to find a new home.

wilbur soot's a fuschia because a) he's in a position that has a lot of power, b) yknow how he wrote a song about squids and his thing with sally… yeah.

eret's a violet because nobility!! dream looks down on him because he's ambivalent on fighting for lowblood rights when he's in a power to do so "you just sit there, and you look pretty that's it"

also like eridan he has a minor aesthetic mutation (herobrine eyes) that won't classify him as a mutant.

jschlatt is purple because it makes sense thematically because of the gamzee parallels (a. substance abuse b. if you know what happens in act 6, you know this already but spoiler alert, he ruins the main protagonists' lives) also he's a funnyman he deserves the clown caste

quackity's a teal because he’s a law student. moving on--

ok but for real it also makes sense thematically because he's the one who wrote the thing that tricked schlatt into agreeing also he gets manipulated by schlatt which also draws parallels to certain events in the comic

skeppy and bbh are BEST FRIENDS despite being highblood and lowblood respectively. initially, skeppy just wanted to bother bbh but they grew to be good friends in time. y’know like how they actually becane friends :D

philza minecraft is a jade because dad friend. also works thematically, because spoiler alert he gets to murder a seadweller for going batshit crazy.

he also god tiers early. he dies fighting his quick undead denizen (haha baby zombie) but the consorts of his land carry him to his quest bed because he’s treated them all so well.

dream was initially going to be another caste but then i realized that means i have to make his hoodie something other than green which is unacceptable so its a good thing the fact that he's a lime works out

dream was the one who thought of playing sgrub in the first place- initially only planned to have gogy, sap, and bbh in the session but then realized that they four won't be enough so he invited more into his session

he’s also the first to go godtier ez clap blind speedrun not sure what classpect tho

the only reason why dream avoided being culled at birth for being a limeblood is because his rng is That Good. he quickly picked up the fact that he’s not supposed to exist and masqueraded as an oliveblood and kept mostly to himself to avoid suspicion.

george is still colorblind but he has lazer eyes along with it instead. dream lives with him in the same hive since being a mutant means dream doesn’t get a lusus of his own (dnf fans getcha juice “and they were roommates”)

despite living in the same hive, he never really figures out that dream is a limeblood. possibly because a) he’s colorblind and when he sees dream bleeding he just sees yellow b) he’s just that fucking oblivious and it’s so valid of him.

sapnap’s a bronzeblood mainly because i know he’s the instigator of the pet war with tommy also because i associate him with the color orang in my mind so bronze it is

that’s the end of this long-ass post!! if you have other ideas PLEASE i want to hear them. i don’t know the other streamers i mentioned in here very well so if you have ideas that would be fitting to them like with classpect or lunar sway that would be GREAT.

the only thing i’m confident about in here are the kids’ lunar sways. i’m not an expert in classpects and homestuck lore so there’s that too!! i just wanted to make this post because adhd means that the idea wouldn’t shut up until i finished it. This initially started as a single shitpost edit of tommyinnit talksprite but then the hiveswap 2 trailer came out and that means i have to combine my two hyperfixations.

also i have ideas about potential quadrants but idk how much of that is breaking some streamers’ boundaries about shipping (even the non romantic quads such as kismesistude, morallegiance and auspisticism) so i decided not to include it.

edit: apparently people want more so i made a discord server as a place to brainstorm!! please pm me to join!

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jasper-pagan-witch · 2 years

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Jasper Reviews: Llewellyn's Witches' Datebook 2022, pt 1 (pre-2022)

Okay, I need to rip into this thing before I even start following it in January. It's time to air stuff out. If you've ever gotten so pissed off at something that it made you lightheaded, you know how I feel right now.

First comes the "how to use this book" guide, which I appreciated because I'm new to the datebook scene. This was...fine? I didn't see anything blatantly wrong.

Next is a chapter called "Working with the New Moon" by Danielle Blackwood. It lists the new moon zodiacs, what they can be used for, goddesses, and crystals. No gods. I would also like to point out that Lilith, a Jewish DEMON, is listed among the "goddesses" here. Because white people are dedicated to appropriating Judaism and making demons into girlboss sexy night goddess dominatrixes.

Danielle Blackwood is very much a Wiccan if you look at her other works or even her about page on her website, aka not Jewish.

The next section is "Empower Magic with Traditional Chinese Energies" by Melissa Tipton. This talks about using heat, cold, wetness, dryness, and windiness in spells. Those of you who have even looked at a Wikipedia article about the classic Greek elements will know that heat/cold/wetness/dryness is related to the 4 Greek elements, not the 5 elements of Wuxing. You can literally debunk this by looking at Wikipedia. Windiness seems to have been randomly pulled out of someone's ass.

Melissa Tipton, if you look at her Amazon author page, is credited as a "Jungian Witch, Reiki Master, and Tarot Coach who has helped hundreds of clients transform their lives and uncover their soul's path" who apparently teaches shadow work. Shadow work is psychology, and through looking at her about page on her website, there's no evidence that she has any degrees or even experience in the field of psychology. I smell a scam.

The next section is "Using the Elements to Aid Your Magic" by James Kambos. This is fine. There wasn't much that I could say was blatantly wrong. I'm glad it didn't shove a "fifth element" down my throat.

There's not much about James Kambos other than the fact that he writes for a lot of the Llewellyn almanacs and datebooks. Even looking at Llewellyn's own page about him, there's nothing about him as a person, vastly different from the previous two authors.

The fourth section is "A Cup of Magic: Transform Any Beverage into a Potion" by Michael Furie. This was also fine, if a little too wordy. Maybe he had a character goal he had to reach.

I mean...the dude's real, he has a website and an about page on said website. I'm skeptical of the quality considering who he publishes through, but he's at least a real person.

And finally, my detested final section..."Enchanting Your Third Eye" by Sasha Graham. It's been written several times over why white people using chakras or the "third eye" is appropriation because it relies on a string of marketing moves, misinformation, and even outright racism to water chakras down to what they are now. Also, the article here assumes that the reader is a woman. (Additionally, part of her "explanation" of chakras says that they're from Dharmic Indian and Asian spiritual traditions...ignoring the fact that India is in Asia...girl, please, take a geography class.)

Sasha Graham is also a real person (the bar is low for Llewellyn) and, according to the about page on her website, has been lecturing and teaching...SOMETHING...around the world. I'm gonna guess that it's to do with tarot, considering that slaps you in the face when you go to her website. Which makes me wonder, why would she write about an appropriated and widely slammed thing instead of about tarot? I mean, it's clear that she has way more experience with tarot than with "chakras".

Official Jasper Review: 0/10, I'm going to fucking throttle the entire Llewellyn company board and whoever greenlit this project

I can't believe I spent thirteen dollars on this piece of shit and now I have to follow this for a whole year because I promised that I would...

#jasper post #review #llewellyn's witches' datebook #llewellyn's witches' datebook 2022 #llewellyn books #llewellyn books critical #danielle blackwood #melissa tipton #james kambos #michael furie #sasha graham #llewellyn critical

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yamaoni · 3 years

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The Second Great War of Remnant has begun. Once more, Vale and Mantle are embroiled in a massive conflict, only this time, they are on the same side against Atlas.

I don't think it was a coincidence that so many people drew parallels with the last episode and WWI. We've never seen people fight that way in RWBY. Grimm don't use projectile weapons the way humans do, so the benefits of the trench are diminished; especially if you compare it to the drawbacks.

Now, I understand not everyone in the Atlas military has their aura unlocked and the squishy soldiers need some cover, but if The Long Memory didn't nuke every grimm on Atlas, the lines would have been overrun and then there would have been nowhere for them to retreat to.

You think the very real hand to hand struggles in the trenches of WWI were bad, imagine being trapped in a narrow trench with a bear. Or having this thing explode out of the ground under you.

I refuse to believe no-one in Atlas ever thought, "if we put the dirt from the trench in a box, no only can we give our soldiers cover, we can also give them an elevated position to fire from."

The top of a wall has been the primary defensive position for the people of Remnant for a long time. You can see them in the establishing shots of most settled places the team has visited. So why are we seeing a trench now?

Simple.

Show, don't tell.

RWBY has done a pretty great job, especially in the last few seasons, of showing the audience what it is trying to convey without explicitly telling them. They especially like drawing from well known folk lore to give insight into the future of the show.

Only difference here, instead of drawing the parallel between characters, they're drawing parallels between worlds.

Remnant's first Great War started with Mantle suppressing freedom of expression, the destruction of Art and Color. Ironwood always has little in the way of color, but in his first broadcast since everything started hitting the fan, he has none.

That broadcast also included evacuation ships being blown up by fighter-bombers, Dunkirk. It threatend to level a city if they didn't surrender, Battle of Brittan. All delivered by a dictator trying to scare his opponents into submission through careful use of film.

Theories

If the rest of the season is WWII, I have several theories on plot direction. Considering how well they did keeping up with both ends of the battlefield it wouldn't surprise me if they followed all of them at the same time.

Operation Dunkirk

Or, the evacuation of Mantle.

Players: Penny, Nora, Ren, Happy Huntresses

The Happy Huntresses involvement is a given. Not only has saving Mantle been their goal the whole time, they're also stuck in the middle of it right now.

Penny is the Protector of Mantle. It would be a shining moment for her character to fully throw off the virus Watts implanted and overcome Ironwood's threats to do so. Just crossing my fingers that it doesn't end like the Iron Giant.

Nora is currently Penny's tether to sanity, so she has to go with, and I doubt they would separate Ren from her for the next arc so he's going too.

Surprise twist for this plot I'm betting will be the Starwars "they aren't warships, just people" scene everyone loves to rag on. After all, the broadcast went out that they needed help and, at least at Dunkirk, it was fishing boats and pleasure crafts that retrieved the 338,000 surrounded on all sides.

Why We Fight

Or, countering Ironwoods propaganda.

Players: Robyn and Qrow

For one, these two are unaccounted for and in the heart of Atlas' military machine. If anyone has means to do so, it's them.

The film, Why We Fight, also countered the dramatic cinematography of Goebbels propaganda by painting it as ridiculous and making a folksy call to action much like Robyn has done in the past.

Operation Fortitude

Or, the deception of Ironwood.

Players: Emerald, Jaune, Oscar

This is the mission to make Ironwood think the team is going after the relic. This theory is why I actually thought of and wrote out this whole thing. Thanks @maxiemumdamage, I had things I was supposed to do tonight.

https://maxiemumdamage.tumblr.com/post/644291955872890880/willing-to-bet-my-own-soul-that-emerald-uses-her

Only difference in my theory and their's, is Jaune is going to be playing the part of Penny.

I say this for two reasons. One, Joan of Arc pretended to be a man. While we've gotten both Jaune pretending to be something he's not and him in a dress, this would pose the first time in the story he could do both. Two, it would put him on a direct collision path with Cinder. It needs to happen at some point to bring his arc to a conclusion, but man I hope we're not about to watch him burn.

With Ozpin active again, Oscar has to go along to direct them to the vault. He's also one of two backing the idea of Emerald joining the team and Jaune wouldn't be willing to work with her without him.

Operation Overlord

Or, busting down the doors of Atlas Acadamy.

Players: Ruby, Blake, Weiss, Yang

Where Operation Fortitude was the faint, Operation Overlord was the real deal. For those that aren't history buffs, this is D-Day.

I think this is the reason we've only seen the main team fighting together once since their split from Beacon. And even then, that fight was at most pairs of fighters and not all four of them supporting one another.

RWBY tricked us into thinking season 4 was the post-timeskip level up we come to expect from anime when really we ended up watching the training flashbacks as they happened instead.

We've seen hints of it with the various team ups and combinations, but are we really ready for how much ass kicking they are about to do?

I'm hoping for a One Piece level of badass entrance that can give me shivers whenever I go to watch it again like the walk to Arlong Park still does to this day.

(Aside: if you try telling me RWBY isn't anime, I'm just going to ignore you. Anime is an art movement. If you don't understand what that means, watch this video. https://youtu.be/uFtfDK39ZhI)

youtube

Now last and certainly not least

Operation Valkyrie

Or, the death of Ironwood.

Players: Winter and Marrow

The long awaited defection. Plenty of speculation has already floated around about if and when these two where going to cave to their morals and jump ship. I don't know how many of us were expecting the straw to break the camel's back to be a nuke held over Mantle, but I certainly wasn't.

What worries me, is Operation Valkyrie failed and all its conspirators were executed. As if there weren't enough death flags for Winter before.

Even if it's not Winter that kills him. I don't see Ironwood surviving this season. Even if it means he goes out like another hated dictator. It's not like it would be the first time RT had a fallen hero chose to use his own sword.

Wildcards

Or, Murphy will have his due.

Players: Cinder, Watts, Neo, Tyrian, Mercury, Clover

These players can go any which way. Three we know for sure are going to be active in the coming episodes and I wouldn't be surprised if the other three play a part as well.

Oscar made a hell of a light show for Tyrian and Mercury to see behind them. Not to mention, Salem will still need a ride home when she pulls herself back together.

Clover keeps getting mentioned even though he's hospitalized. If he was truly out of commission for the rest of the season, they would have made us think he's dead before bringing him back like they did with Penny.

Up to now, what we've seen is a three way conflict. But one of the hallmarks of Remnant's First Great War, was making temporary alliances to fight off grimm.

The grimm might be gone, but the wild cards can't complete their own objectives if they are dead. The question is who's goals better align with their own.

Two surprise twists I can see here. One, Mercury stabbing Tyrian on his way to defection. He was raised by an assassin and has not going to get a better chance than that. Two, Clover joining Operation Valkyrie. He might have accepted that sacrifice is a necessary evil to ensure Atlas' survival, but might go Schindler's List on us and find horror in what Ironwood plans to do.

TLDR

I spent way too long writing this out. All the WWI imagery means we're getting a WWII movie with RWBY characters. Major death flags for Penny, Jaune, and Winter.

Also I finally figured out how to do a readmore. Apparently it's just been a long time since I updated.

Note: kept seeing things talking about clovers death and I kind of went ???? Isn't he barely alive in medical? Went back and watched that scene and though I am 90% sure he is dead still kind of weird that they have him in his own room instead of a morgue and the initial framing made my mind instantly think he was propped up on a hospital bed. I mean, I guess we needed to have all the ACEOPs there for their reaction to Ironwood... but it definitely made me think he was alive. That and they have a bandage on his chest wound... when he's supposedly dead. Also have a phantom memory of Harriet saying something about him being in critical but I think that's my memory playing tricks on me.

Having his face exposed instead of covered by the sheet and seeing him in the same frame as Winter being treated also didn't help my gut reaction of "Oh Shit! He's alive? How?!" If I'd followed up more on the "how" might not have made the blunder of writing his return as the final twist in my theory. Oops

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mellometal · 3 years

Text

It seems like Dhar Mann has fucked up AGAIN. I'm pissed. He really thought that it would be cool to make ANOTHER video about ASD to spread the ableist, misinformed, harmful narrative that "autism isn't a disability, it's a different ability". LET'S TALK ABOUT IT.

To sum up the video, an autistic man who uses a device to communicate with people gets hired at this restaurant. The boss says to the guy who brought in said autistic man that having a disabled person working at his restaurant would "make things worse". The guy tries to stand up for the autistic man by saying that he's smart and stuff, but doesn't bother to call out the boss being completely ableist.

The boss then tells the autistic man to not touch anything and to stay out of the way, which is underestimating what he's capable of. When the two cooks in the kitchen ask a genuine question about who their new coworker is and why he uses a communication device to speak, the boss doesn't introduce him to the cooks and says that he's "nobody".

Pretty much the ONLY person who bothered to do anything remotely positive with the autistic man (that was shown) was the pastry chef. She was teaching him how to decorate a cake, was very patient with him, and gave him praise along the way. She was interested in getting to know him. She wasn't mean to him or anything. She stood up for him when the boss was being an ableist bag of dicks. He even threatened to fire this guy, who did nothing wrong, just for being autistic and the boss had no idea how to help accommodate his employee in any way. He ended up discriminating his employee for being autistic. (Which he could get sued for in the United States, if this happened in real life. Disabled people are a protected class in the workplace under Equal Employment Opportunity, or EEO. Dhar Mann, this includes autistic people.)

Hell, even the autistic man stood up to the boss. He went into how nobody wanted to hang out with him and stuff when he was growing up, that he had to be hidden away from other people, and nobody bothered to give him a chance because he's autistic and uses a communication device to speak. He's good with people. He pretty much told his boss to stop being an ableist piece of shit.

When the cooks and the pastry chef all say that their new coworker fixed the fryer and decorated the cake, the boss then changes his tune. Happy ending, Whoop-dee-fuckin-doo.

First off, how does being nonverbal affect a person's intelligence in any way? How does a communication device affect a person's intelligence? Let me tell you, none of these things affect a person's intelligence whatsoever. To think that they would is misinformed at best, and ableist at worst.

There are people who genuinely don't know about all the different types of communication that people use, and that's okay! I'm not mad at anyone who doesn't know about different types of communication besides oral speech, writing, and sign language. (I've worked with and interacted with a few people who use some of these different forms of communication.)

Some people use a communication device like a tablet for Text-to-Speech (that was shown in the video). I worked with someone throughout school who used a communication device.

Some people use basic mands (expressive language) and/or basic statements. An example of that would be a person saying, "Me, walk." to mean they're going on a walk. Sometimes they'll make a gesture to show they're going on a walk when they do this. I work with someone who mainly uses this form of communication.

Some use books or wear something like a belt with pictures held on with velcro that they can take out and put back in their books or belt. I've worked with someone in school who mainly used this form of communication.

Alright, now that's out of the way....onto my response. I'm happy that I saved screenshots of my comments because I think Dhar Mann deleted them! (Edit: Scratch that, I commented these on Dhar Mann's other account for his behind the scenes shit instead of his main.) I might get blocked, but it'll be worth it. I have multiple accounts, so I'm not going down easy. He really can't handle being told that his narrative is wrong. (I've been wrong many times before, so this ain't about that "holier-than-thou" shit. I try my best to fix things, learn, and improve. I mean, it hurts sometimes, but I at least try to improve myself.)

This video hit home. I had to hide being autistic from my employer because I was afraid of being rejected for a job opportunity because of it and I was afraid of dealing with ableist people like these men shown above.

While I'm fortunate to be able to hold down a job, there are many autistic people who can't hold down a job or can't work at all. This shit doesn't help.

(For anyone who needs a description for my comments....I am calling out Dhar Mann for his blatant ableism and his fans in the comments for eating up this ableist, misinformed, harmful narrative and about the performative activism quite a few people on IG are about. It's way too long for me to go into extreme detail.)

(ETA: Yes, autistic nonbinary people exist. I didn't intentionally forget y'all in my comments! I love y'all! /p I wrote it while I was quite heated, plus the sleep deprivation didn't help.)

The YouTuber I mentioned, for anyone who wants to know, is TheMysteriousMrEnter. He's an autistic creator who makes commentaries about cartoons (just animations in general), he has talked about his issues with @utism $p3aks, and a lot of other things. He's even talked about his own cyber harassment and how he had stalkers on a few occasions. Honestly, I can relate to him on a few things, mainly because I've been harassed on the internet and have had stalkers online. Plus the love for cartoons and anime. If you're into cartoon commentaries, check him out. He's underrated. (Also....some ace representation for all my ace people here.)

Dhar Mann's a real piece of human garbage! The fact that he still has supporters is sickening. Again, I feel bad for all the actors in his videos. They deserve better.

#mello speaks #dhar mann #dhar mann is a piece of human garbage #please stop supporting dhar mann #dhar mann will live to regret his decision to make these fucked up cringe videos #dhar mann will live to regret his decision uwu #dhar mann is a cringe ass nae-nae baby #being autistic isn't a bad thing #autism isn't a different ability stop fucking saying it is #autism spectrum disorder #light it up red #light it up gold #autism self advocacy network #autistic women and non binary people network #tw ableism #long post #dhar mann makes me so angry oh my GOD #this probably won't be the last post made about him #tw dhar mann

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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sea monster indruck nsfw? maybe including one of them masturbating while fantasizing about the other one and confessing all their dirty thoughts as they're actually having sex? scary protective monster is also always hot if you're down for that

Here you go! I wasn’t able to fit in everything, but this one was fun!

This is all the hangman's fault.

Indrid could be pleasantly dead right now, not trapped in a gibbet on a clifftop, if the man had bothered to check his ropes ahead of time. But no, instead he failed to see the rats had been gnawing on them and the blasted noose snapped clean off the instant it took Indrids weight. To the villagers, this was a sign that Indrid was indeed a witch (and the son of a demon, a rare charge that drags his poor, deceased mother into this mess). To Indrid, it meant a new set of bruises and the worst possible death.

They locked him in the gibbet, the Atlantic crashing in angry, grey waves far below them. The man on his right is dead, eyeballs already plucked out by an enterprising bird, and the man on his left is getting there. If his visions are accurate, Indrid has a good five days of suffering the elements, the wild-life, and his own hunger and thirst before he joins them.

A lifetime of visions breeds resignation in the face of fate, so he closes his eyes, follows the futures of luckier men as a temporary escape. The screams of his neighbor rouse him with a start. Their source is wholly unexpected.

Looming at the edge of the cliff is an immense monster. From his vantage point, Indrid spies the creatures’ lower body still submerged in the sea, making it well over a hundred feet tall. It’s skin is green, it’s fingers webbed, and it’s crowned by a frill of wave-shaped spikes. The face is humanoid, with green eyes and hair of black water and a squid-beak where a mouth should be. Strange tentacles appear and disappear along its torso, as if they have not made up their mind as to whether they wish to exist.

The monster sighs, “Fuckin hate it when they leave their dead like this. Unsightly, and I ain’t sure it’s good for the seagulls to be eatin humans.”

“The dead and, ah, almost dead do not enjoy it much either.”

Upon hearing Indrids voice, the creature peers into his cage, “Huh, guess you ain’t dead. Either of you.” He turns his eyes on the other condemned man, who starts screaming again, “why’d they stick you here?”

“Witchcraft, specifically foresight and dabbling in ‘black magic.’ Well, that and a failed hanging” He tilts his head to show the visitor the rope mark.

“Damn, that looks like it hurts. Wonder if I can..” the tip of an immense claw extends towards him. There’s a crackle of power that makes his ears pop, and the monster pulls his hand back, “nope, fuck, was hopin it’d be a small enough thing to do.”

“I beg your pardon?”

The monster sighs, “Long story short, my kind ain’t able to interact in an, uh, altruistic fashion with humans unless they’re acolytes. Can’t even open that damn cage without gettin zapped. Never mind that some of us don’t even wanna be old gods or whatever the fuck, still ain’t allowed to help. Maybe if I get a real big stick..”

“How does one become an acolyte?” Indrid presses his face to the front of the cage.

“Uh, you gotta swear loyalty and servitude to me, specifically, and the ‘old gods’ in general, live in a place I set up for you, and do stuff when I need you to.”

“Very well, are there specific words of the oath or…”

“Whoah, hold up now” the creature raises his hands, “this shit is real bindin’, rather you not rush into it.”

“Given the alternative is death, a rush is rather necessary.”

“All I’m sayin is you might wanna think for more than two seconds before you agree! And there might be other ways for me to get you out.”

“Do..do you not want an acolyte?” Being rejected by a sea monster feels like a fitting end to his life.

“Not really. It ain’t personal or anythin; I’m just now leanin into the whole god thing and I still ain’t all that comfortable with parts if it. Last thing I want is an acolyte who saw me as ‘not as bad as death.”

“And the last thing I want is to die of exposure, so we are at an impasse.”

The monster clicks his beak once, “Okay, here’s what I’ll do. You take until sunset to think over whether you wanna be stuck servin’ this” he gestures to himself, “for a long-ass time, and we’ll go from there.”

“Very well.” Indrid resigns himself to several more hours of misery as the creature sinks from view. He glances at the other prisoner, “what do you think? He seems very considerate for a sea monster and I for one would like to keep living.”

The man stares, babbles incoherently for a moment before shouting, “You, you conversed with a devil! You are a witch, just as they say!”

“He spoke to both of us.” Indrid blinks, puzzled.

“I closed my ears to his lies, you offered yourself to his wickedness! Speak no more to me from your black tongue.”

“Hmmph” Indrid does his best to ignore the ongoing beration. He’s not sure the creature is a god, but then again the creature seems uncertain on the matter himself. Serving a maybe-god seems no worse than serving the king, a life among the depths no less tolerable than his small home in a town torn to pieces by accusations of witchcraft.

After a time, the storm clouds fulfill their purpose, a downpour battering him from all angles. Then a shadow falls over his shut eyes, and no more rain touches him.

“Seemed awful rude to leave you stuck in the rain while you thought things over.” The god explains, one massive hand shielding the human.

“Many thanks. Ah, I do have one concern about being your acolyte. Would...would I have to hurt anyone?”

“Don’t think so. I ain’t fond of hurtin folks, and if someone did need to be hurt, seems real strange to make the tiny human do it.”

Indrid puts on his most hopeful, charming smile, “I am very cold, very hungry, and my whole being feels as though it’s been stomped on by a team of horses. Perhaps I could give my answer early?”

A chuckle, like bubbles in deep water, “Hard to say no to that face. Okay, you got a deal. I checked with Joe while I was gone, to make sure I knew the right thing to do if you said yes. I’m gonna say the oath, and you’re gonna repeat it.”

Indrid nods, makes his way laboriously through the incantation in a gurgling language he does not know. The god patiently guides him along, cracks open the cage when the last word is spoken.

“Do I get to know your name? If it was one of those words, it will take me some time to master it.”

The monsters’ cheeks rise, suggesting a smile, “You can call me Duck. It’s a nickname. C’mon” he holds out his hand, “let’s get you outta the rain.”

“One moment.” Indrid moves to the other gibbet, undoing the lock, “you can get free if you wish. If anyone asks how, tell them it was the witch.” With that, he settles in Duck’s cupped palms, the skin smooth and cool to the touch.

“Down we go.” Duck sinks.

“Wait, how will I bre-” water fills his mouth, but only for a moment. A clear bubble forms around him, let’s him gulp in air as Duck dives further into the sea. More jarring than the spell is the sight of the monster unfurling behind him. He assumed Duck had legs, but instead his lower body is that of a sea-serpent, green with bronze rings and undulating in the dark waves.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes” he wonders what touching that tail is like.

“Yeah, this is a real beautiful part of the sea. If you want, some time I can take you further out; some spectacular lookin creatures out there. Here we go, home sweet home.” They surface at the base of a much shorter cliff, Indrid woozy from the change in depth. Three cottages--one red, one gold, and one blue-- stare back at them from a grassy hill.

“Let’s see if I can do this” Duck sets Indrid on the ground, closes his eyes, and hums. The world shudders and splits, and then a fourth, emerald green cottage sits alongside the others.

“Ha! Pretty damn good for a first effort.” His frill flickers with silver light.

“It’s wonderful.”

“All yours. You get yourself settled, I'm gonna go find out from the others what else needs doin’ now that I got an acolyte.” He lowers himself so the two of them are roughly face to face, “see you soon, Indrid.”

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

The cottage holds more possessions than Indrid’s ever had in his life, including a large feather bed that he stretches his aching body across before falling asleep and dreaming of seaweed twining up his legs.

Voices from the window rouse him some hours later. At the side of the red cottage sit three other humans, two of whom are at work in a vegetable garden. Indrid ventures down to introduce himself.

“Hi!” One, a woman with golden hair, waves to him, “you must be Indrid. I’m Dani, this is Barclay” she points to the bearded man harvesting potatoes, then to a tattooed man polishing a pile of gold and silver jewelry, “and that’s Boyd.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. You are all acolytes as well?” His stomach rumbles and Barclay pauses his digging to slide him a basket containing bread and cheese.

“Help yourself, those are leftover from lunch. And yeah, we are. Or were, in Dani’s case.”

Even with foresight, Indrid is surprised when the woman says jokingly, “Got promoted to ‘wife’ a few months.”

“Congratulations.” It seems the appropriate thing to say, given her smile, “ah, what exactly do you all do for your gods? Duck is rather unclear on the details.”

“Some of it is spellwork. Beings like Duck have some innate power, but they can get more of it from an acolyte doing rituals or making offerings. Joseph, that’s my monster, Duck, and a few others aren’t sold on the idea that they’re meant to destroy humans, so they spend a lot of time keeping other monsters from doing just that. Our spellwork gives them an edge. Other than that, it really depends on who you’re working for; I spent a lot of my first month helping Joseph understand that hauling himself up onto a random dock to ask questions is not the best way to learn about humans. Boyd spends a lot of time maintaining Ned’s treasure.”

“Only because he bloody tricked me into workin for him. Just bidin my time until the deal runs out. You hear that Chicane!” Boyd yells towards the water, “don’t care how much you steal, I’ll get my share and run one of these days.”

To Indrid’s ear, the sea laughs in reply. Boyd grumbles and returns to his work.

“He’s just annoyed because he and Ned thought they could outwit each other; Boyd was on a prison ship bound for Jamaica and Ned offered him an out. Apparently they spent hours haggling over the terms.” Dani leans closer, whispers, “Boyds left twice, comes back every time saying he’s bored without someone to challenge him.”

They talk a while longer, Dani promising to bring Indrid some hens and a goat from town, Boyd giving him some firewood, and Barclay explaining the network of sea caves in the surrounding hills. When there’s a knock at the door, he opens it expecting another human and jumps when this is not the case.

“Evenin’” Duck smiles as he slithers into the house, “brought you a few more things.”

“You got smaller.”

“Can change my size some, though this is about as small as I can get.” He’s still two heads taller than Indrid, who notes that the ceilings are just high enough to accommodate him, as if the god built the cottage with visits in mind.

Duck sets a bucket of fresh oysters in the kitchen along with a large slab of butter, some milk, and some sugar, “Had one of my human friends bring me these. And, uh, I made you this” he holds up a cloak in the same colors as his tail. It fits Indrid snugly, shutting out the chilly air and making him feel rather grand indeed.

“C’mere” Duck pats a kitchen chair, “lemme take care of your neck.”

Indrid sits, shudders when webbing and claws rub sticky balm into his skin. The gods hands easily encircle his neck, a realization that stirs heat deep in his stomach. Duck talks as he works, a meandering story about a shipwreck, and Indrid finds he enjoys his manner of speech. The initial discomfort of the touches subside, the balm washing the pain in his neck away like a wave erasing a message in the sand. Cool hands wrapped around his throat turn as comforting as the fire crackling in the stove.

“That looks like it healed. Good” Duck’s beak fondly nips his ear, “gotta make sure my servant is in good condition.”

“Mmmm” Indrid bumps his chest with his head, hoping for more; tomorrow he’ll ask the others if it’s commonplace for an acolyte to lounge in the coils of their gods lap like a housecat.

The beak touches his ear once more, biting it lightly with little kissing sounds.

“Huh'' two tentacles catch Indrid as he tips sideways, his body deciding that the earlier nap was not enough rest, “didn’t think you’d find that soothin. Did it by accident, it’s how my kind show affection.”

“S’very nice” Indrid mumbles, dimly aware of being carried.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Y’know, in case I need to reward you for somethin.” Duck lays him in bed, pulls a thick blanket over him, and bids him goodnight. Indrid is sound asleep before the door closes.

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

“Ngahka miskato--ah! Give that back” Indrid wrenches his spectacles free from hold of a far too inquisitive octopus. The creature squirts him with water, then disappears back into its pool.

Each of the gods has a sea cave in which their acolytes perform their rituals. Since the processes involves ancient, dark magic, all manner of strange sea life makes its way to the caves. Some, like the octopus or the seals that bob in the distance or flop on the rocks to nap, are known to him. Others might be classified as indescribable horrors from the deep, though Indrid thinks they look like crustaceans with a few too many limbs or the offspring of an eel and devil fish.

His oath to Duck allows him to read the spells, and his pronunciation is improving. Duck’s requests center on defense; letting himself take greater damage from an enemy, be better able to protect his friends, that sort of thing. Indrid even found a ritual that gives the god new cloaking abilities, which he’s used to make the cottages disappear on the hillside and thus keep curious townsfolk away. He also found one that allows Duck to remain out of water for well over a day.

The Duck who visits him in the cave and the one who stops by his home may be radically different sizes, but his disposition is constant. He talks about the kelp forests and the animals, about his annoyance with his supposed destiny as “destroyer of all man.” He conjures fine clothes from seaweed, furniture from driftwood, and brings Indrid newly made grins embedded with fresh pearls.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one serving you?” Indrid will tease.

“Way I see it, we serve each other. Don’t care what that fuckin oath said.”

Indrid is feeding his hens one evening when his luck catches up with him; his human friends are all standing at the edge of Dani’s house, peering anxiously around it’s corner and down the hill. Joining them, he sees a crowd marching with torches and an assortment of lethal farm equipment.

“What the fuck are they doing? You were just in town today and everything was fine” Barclay glances at Dani, who shrugs, worried.

“My visions tell me that as they get closer we will hear them yelling about witches and that I will recognize many of them. I suspect my fellow gibbet-occupant told them about Duck.” He sighs, “I’ll try to lead them on a chase, get them away from all of you.”

Indrid runs into the evening before the others, or his own common sense, can stop him. Keeping to the cliffside, he lets them glimpse his hair and his red glasses, both used at the trial as proof of his wicked nature. His plan is to take a secret tunnel down into the caves, but his visions alert him a moment too late to the fact there are two, not one, groups of villagers. He’s outflanked on the cliff, holds up his hands to show he means no harm.

“I understand my continued existence alarms and confuses you, but that is no reason to go running about with weapons. Would you kindly leave me alone?”

“No, witch, we will not.” The head of the party shouts over the wind.

“I have a name, you know.” He grumbles, looking behind him and wondering if his status as an acolyte grants him immunity from death by falling in the water.

“You have already confessed to your black work, and we have on good authority you have made a pact with the devil. There is nowhere to run, and if you come quietly I promise we will hang you properly this time.”

“And if I do not?”

“We shall see to it that your body is scattered about this cliffside before the night is out.” The mob moves forward and Indrid stumbles back, the earth giving out beneath his feet.

He lands with a yelp in a smooth, large hand. As Duck rises more fully from the waves, the crowd freezes, struck dumb with fear.

“Y’all ain’t gonna touch him, y’hear? Indrid’s under my protection and in case it ain’t obvious, I could smoosh the whole damn bunch of you without breakin a sweat. So, what you’re gonna do is turn around and go back to your village, and I’ll forget this ever happened. If you come after him again, I’m gonna start taking out ships in your harbor. We clear?”

The panicked flight of the mod downhill suggests he’s made his point.

Duck carries Indrid home, joining him in the cottage once he can fit through the door. The monster follows him upstairs, pulling him into his arms.

“Thought I was gonna lose you.”

“That makes two of us.”

Duck nuzzles the top of his head, “You mind if I stay here tonight? Little worried some of them might get it into their heads to come back and hurt you.”

No futures show this, but Indrid nods all the same. Duck curls up near the bed, not leaving until the morning sun shines through the window. He does the same the next night, and the night after that, and soon it’s been two weeks of the god talking softly with Indrid as the human falls asleep.

When Indrid shyly asks if Duck will join him, his monster lays as comfortably as he can on the right side of the bed. Indrid is now used to waking up with a tail looped around his leg or a tentacle clinging to his arm.

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

Indrid is just drifting off when the covers slide aside and weight slithers up the bed. He opens his eyes; Duck is on his side, facing him, annoyed.

“What troubles you, my dark excellency?” Indrid nudges Ducks’ lower belly with his toes. He’s taken to calling Duck increasingly absurd things, and the monster calls him “faithful servant” or “esteemed attendant” in reply.

Tonight, Duck just sighs, “Y’know how I was supposed to do somethin important tonight, bein’ that it’s the second full moon in the month? Turns out that somethin was, ‘spread my seed among the beds of men’ so our kind will gradually overrun the surface.” He clicks his beak with a snort, “don’t that sound fun?”

“No.”

“Smart little thing, ain’t you?” Duck teases, cups Indrid’s chin, “Yeah, I said no. Problem is, apparently a second full moon makes my whole body wanna fuck, which is why that prophecy was supposed to happen tonight.”

Indrid looks down, sees something rippling under the skin at the upper part of Duck’s tail.

“I’m gonna try sleepin it off.”

His visions give him courage; Duck turns him down in most futures, but none of them end in death or bodily harm, which at his point in his life is all he asks.

“Or you could, ah, allow me to help you.”

Green eyes blink, slow and calculating, “‘Drid, that ain’t part of your job.”

“No…” Indrid scoots across the sheets, tentatively runs his fingers up Duck’s side, “but that is not why I’m offering.”

“No?” The rest of his tail joins them on the bed, curving so it traps Indrid against him, “Then why are you offerin, sweet human of mine?”

“Because I, ah, I want, that is I would very much like to know you in that way, and I thought it was allowed based on the others, I apologize if it’s not, I did not mean to-” He freezes as Duck cups his face, nipping his ear and throat with a kissing noise.

“‘Drid?”

“Y-yes, my lord of the depths?” He’s breathless, drowning in Duck’s gaze.

“Stop apologizin and take off your clothes.”

Indrid flails until nothing is between him and his monster.

“Thats better” Duck’s voice deepens, washing over him like rough waves, “now, come serve your god.” He pats what Indrid thinks of as his waist, the point where his human qualities disappear entirely.

“As you wish” Indrid tries for a coquettish smile as he straddles him, but it gives way to surprise as the slit in Ducks skin parts.

“I was not expecting tentacles. Which, given the rest of you, was naive.”

“Not usin that future vision of yours to see what’s comin’?” The webbing of Duck’s fingers is like velvet as it caresses Indrid’s chest.

“It is difficult to focus on such things when you are here. You command my attention. You always have.”

Duck flicks his tongue across Indrid’s lower lip, “Now that kind of devotion I could get used to.”

“It is yours whenever you want it.”

A tentacle emerges from his side, petting Indrid’s face, “My Indrid. You been so good for me, so faithful and true. Letting me babble about seaweed and when my claws through that pretty hair. And you just keep gettin better.”

“Please” Indrid rests his head against Duck’s chest, hugging him as best as his size will allow, “please teach me how to serve you this way too.”

“I can do that. You don’t gotta lift a finger.” Several of the tendrils that comprise his cock twine together to form a single appendage. The tentacle on his face gains a twin and the pair slide down to his ass, parting it.

Indrid’s thighs are uncooperative, struggle to get and keep him in the right position to sink down. He curses, reaches down to adjust only for a thicker tentacles to bind both wrists and yank them up above his head.

“Uh uh, I said no finger-liftin and I meant it.”

Indrid moans, his cock filling as he discovers there’s no way to free himself. He expects Duck to guide him into place with his hands. The end of his tail encircles Indrid’s hips while his claws trace arcane shapes on his skin.

“I, I did not know it was quite so dextrousOH, oh god.” The tip of that strange cock pushes in, pulsing little by little to stretch him open without pain.

“Right here.” Duck nibbles his hair with that same kissing sound, “I got you. Take such good care of my faithful human.”

“Oh god” Indrid can’t come up with anything else to express the sensation of Duck sinking deeper into his body, of how safe he feels stretched out and stretched open in the monsters hold. He tips his head back with a cry as Duck bottoms out and his cock moves fluid and disjointed all at once. It’s pulsing, thrusting him full on each inward push, yet it’s individual tendrils curve and curl within him independent of the whole.

“More, oh god, please, please never ever ever stop.”

A fond chuckle, “That good huh? Maybe that prophecy was wrong. Maybe what I’m supposed to do is fuck you full and then drop you in town so you can spread the word of how good my dick is. Be my consort and prophet all in one. Get everyone clamorin for the chance for me to fuck them.”

“No” Indrid squirms, petulant, “you’re my master. Not theirs.”

A louder laugh this time, “You gonna take the amount of fuckin I was supposed to do to a whole town yourself?” A tendril curls around Indrid’s aching cock.

“Yes” He wails, rolls his hips “you may have me as often as you please, I want you too, I’ll, I’ll be your faithful servant always.”

“You’re already somethin better; you’re my ‘Drid.” Duck twists the tendril and Indrid’s lost, his orgasm knocking breath from his chest and tears from his eyes as white spatters the green of Duck’s abdomen.

“That’s it darlin, lookit you bein so good, cummin for your master. Think it’s time for you to make good on your promise to take whatever I give you.” The tail lifts Indrid up and down as Duck cums, the monster not so much as pausing before thrusting his hips harder, “fuuuck that’s good, my perfect servant, my ‘Drid, takin me so well.”

Indrid sobs as another burst of cum enters him and a strange feeling fills his chest; he’s buzzing with blindingly bright power. It’s coming from Duck, he knows this, and in the haze of his submissive state he understands the depth of his divinity.

“Duck” he whimpers as more tentacles twist around his limbs, the god losing himself in his pursuit of pleasure, filling Indrid until his belly twinges and his eyes fight to remain open. When the god groans out the humans name a final time, Indrid is so enveloped by him he wonders if they’ll ever fully disentangle.

The monster carries him to the washroom, Indrid still squirming on his cock, and gently pulls him free to set him in the tub. A flick of his hand fills it with warm seawater.

“You okay?”

“I doubt I will be able to walk tomorrow.” Indrid smiles to show he relishes this fact.

“Guess I’ll be spendin tomorrow waitin on you.” Duck joins him in the tub, coiling protectively around him as he washes his chest and thighs.

“I thought I was the servant here?” Indrid cuddles closer, kissing Duck on the tip of his beak.

“Nah. Far as I’m concerned, we take care of each other.”

#indrid cold/duck newton #Indruck #monster march #reader requests #monster boyfriend #the author says "fuck HP Lovecraft

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fritae · 3 years

Text

The Missing Piece (Chapter 8)

Anxiety.

gang! au / ceo! au

characters: dabi x female oc, lov, other original characters

status: ongoing

read on ao3 here.

I'm sure Mr. Lane has seen me.

With a groan, I take Dabi aside.

"You can go ahead, sir." I tell him quickly, glancing behind me to see if they're watching me.

Dabi looks over my shoulder.

"Is that what's-his-face?"

I shoot Dabi a look and gesture toward Aliyah. We may be friends but I didn't tell her the real reason I left NNTV. She thinks work became too stressful and I needed a break.

She doesn't know about the argument me and Mr. Lane had after I discovered his support of the Todorokis. Or about his cutting my salary and threatening to fire me.

Besides, bad mouthing a former employer is horrible professionalism.

"It's Mr. Lane. Go, go," I try shoo-ing him away. "I'll see you tomorrow sir."

But Dabi doesn't budge.

His eyes are trained on mine.

"I don't like that look on your face."

I groan. "What look? Sir it's just-"

"Like you're uncomfortable."

The comment catches me off guard and I quickly avert my gaze.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I say quietly. "These are my friends."

But that only seems to make him more determined. Dabi turns to face me completely, his feet firmly planted in the ground and his hands tucked coolly in the pockets of his pants. He doesn't look interested in listening right now.

"What are you worried about?" He asks. "Is it him?"

I run an anguished hand through my hair. "Sir please. Please. What happened to not asking about our private matters?"

I don't want Dabi and Mr. Lane meeting. Especially considering how our last conversation went. I didn't tell Mr. Lane I was working for the Blaze, and considering how salty he was that I left after all these years, facing him once again fills me with anxiety.

"Alright I won't ask you," Dabi ignores me. "I'll find out from him."

My eyes widen and I pull him back before he could make his way toward Mr. Lane. Aliyah went to bring Mr. Lane to say hi. I feel my chest get tighter when I see him getting closer.

"See? I don't like that." Dabi eyes me with concern. He tsks and pulls a box from his back pocket. He tries to hand me a cigarette but I shake my head quickly.

Mr. Lane doesn't know I smoke.

And with the amount of anxiety pooling in my gut, it wouldn't even help.

Dabi shrugs, no longer facing me.

"I'm here," He says. The ice in his voice from earlier is gone. I look at him once more before Mr. Lane gets within earshot.

He gives me a small nod and reaches for me, his hand brushing against the small of my back in a way that sends electricity up my spine. "He's not your boss anymore. He has no power over you."

I nod and plaster a fake smile on my face as the short man approaches us.

I hope it's enough to hide my thundering heart.

"Ms. Aoki," His voice sounds as insufferable as ever. "Fancy meeting you here."

I nod my head in respect. "Mr. Lane. It's nice to see you so soon."

As if!

But already, his attention is off of me. Instead, he eyes Dabi up and down.

"Is this your partner?" He asks.

My face heats up immediately. "Oh - no sir. This is my, um - my new boss. Mr. Dabi?"

Just as I expected, Mr. Lane's expression darkens immediately.

I expect Dabi to extend a hand out for formalities. But his hands remains in his pockets. He merely gives him a nod in acknowledgement.

"So you've found a new company after all." Mr. Lane comments coldly.

"Yes. Yes sir."

"What's the name of your company, Mr. Dabi?"

"The Blaze." Dabi says. "I do luxury trading. Rina told me she previously worked for a broadcasting company - what was it called again?"

Mr. Lane's face hardens. "NNTV. We're a leading force in the industry-"

"Right, right. That company that always underperforms?" He asks apologetically.

Me and Aliyah gasp, glancing cautiously at Mr. Lane.

"I have a friend that works at CBS, you see."

There's a smile on Dabi's face.

"I haven't even heard of your company," Mr. Lane quickly counters, evil in his eyes. "When Ms. Aoki abandoned us in such a manner, I assumed she'd join a better known business."

"I'm not surprised you haven't heard of us," Dabi sighs, that same mocking tone in his voice. "You see, we cater to a highly exclusive audience."

Aliyah mouth drops behind Mr. Lane, looking extremely amused. I wouldn't be surprised if this becomes the subject of tomorrow's lunchtime gossip.

"I see," Mr. Lane smiles at Dabi but it is anything but friendly. "Anyway. Careful with this one." He tells Dabi. "She's loyal to the - " He rubs his fingers to his thumb to indicate money. "It doesn't matter how well you treat her, if she finds a better offer she'll run off on you. Looking at you now," Mr. Lane sizes him up. "it probably won't take long."

I didn't leave because of money you piece of shit! If you actually saw me as a person, you'd know that!

I feel Aliyah's eyes on me in surprise.

Great.

Now she thinks I'm making more money and keeping things from her.

I don't face her.

"Hm," Dabi says. "What do you define as a better offer? Because we certainly don't pay-"

Don't say that! I think frantically.

I clear my throat.

Dabi looks at me quizzically. But he understands soon enough.

"...her what she's worth. With how well she's driven up sales this past month, she certainly deserves every penny."

"With all due respect," Mr. Lane smiles apologetically, venom lacing his words. "A secretary who intervenes in your business, gives unsolicited advice, and tries to control decision making is not worth her price. There are many other qualified secretaries who will drive up sales, and do it better than she can."

I feel my heart fall.

Of course he would say that.

Mr. Lane thinks of me as disloyal now. Leaving NNTV so suddenly after all these years, I knew it would matter more to him than he let on during our last meeting.

He doesn't exactly tolerate betrayal. And being his secretary for so long, I've seen how he treats former employees enough to know how vicious he can be.

That's why I didn't want him and Dabi to meet.

My face reddens immensely at the mention of my frequent "interventions" and "unsolicited advice". Because Mr. Lane doesn't believe in teams, he believes in workers who do as they're told. That's it.

But considering how much Dabi cares about his space, the comment fills me with anxiety.

Especially given the conversation we had today.

Will he think this is a pattern now? Will it drive him further away from me - cause his lack of trust in me to balloon even more?

There's an uncomfortable feeling in my gut as my mind questions all these possibilities. I wish Aliyah hadn't seen me.

No.

I wish I just told Dabi I was busy when he asked me for dinner. I hesitantly glance at him, searching for any indication of how he's receiving this.

There's embarrassment written all over my face.

However, Dabi's expression doesn't change. He remains aloof.

Although on closer inspection, I think I see his jaw clench.

I feel my eyes water. Is he angry with me?

He should be.

Perhaps I am too talkative and opinionated for a secretary.

But Dabi's response makes me furrow my brows in confusion.

"She was a member of your team. Of course she would advise you. And intervene as necessary."

My eyes widen.

"It's as much her company as it is mine, so I do hope she does more of that for us in the future."

I look at Dabi in surprise, trying to figure him out. Doesn't he hate it when people intervene in his business though? Is he just saying this in front of Mr. Lane?

That's gotta be it.

Regardless, I'm grateful that he hasn't thrown me under the bus, using me as conversation material. Anyone else would happily listen and even share their own criticism of me to keep the conversation going. Especially considering Mr. Lane is realistically the more powerful CEO of the two. Anyone would say anything to get on his good side.

And part of me feels like Mr. Lane used me in order to shift to Dabi's good side too. After all, what manager doesn't love critiquing his employees?

Only Dabi didn't take the bait.

"I suppose I should thank you actually," Dabi continues, the height difference only further emphasizing the power imbalance in the conversation. Mr. Lane looks small for the first time ever, as he stands there looking up at Dabi. "If you hadn't let her go, our company wouldn't be in the place it is today. She's extremely capable, as you know. And such an agreeable team player, as well."

But instead of responding, Mr. Lane focuses on me with those murderous eyes.

As if it's my fault he was humiliated tonight.

How dare I go on to build up someone else's company. How dare I not cry and beg him to take me back, that I was sorry and have learned from my mistake. That I would never challenge his decisions again and be the loyal, silent employee he expects me to be.

I shrink under his stare, and before I know it, Dabi's hand is once again on my back.

He has no power over you.

I take a deep breath. "Unfortunately, Mr. Dabi has a prior engagement and we don't want to be late." I tell Mr. Lane. "But thank you for coming over personally to say hello. Hopefully, an opportunity for us to meet again arises in the future."

Mr. Lane nods coldly and walks away. He didn't even shake our hands before he left. Aliyah smiles at us apologetically and comes to hug me once again.

"He's a good man," She whispers in my ear. When she pulls away, she gives me a sly wink and my face reddens. She shakes Dabi's hand before she hurries behind Mr. Lane to the outdoor seating area where the rest of NNTV's administration and senior employees lounge.

And Dabi and I are alone once again.

#dabi angst #dabi fanfic #dabi fic #dabi fluff #dabi x oc #touya todoroki #dabi #dabi x female reader #touya fluff #bnha fic #bnha

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