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brongusthearcanist · 3 months

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Sci-fi and Fantasy are linked in a strange way. Both deal with impossible premises and both typically have what we call "magic" but we don't normally call Sci-fi shenanigans magic, unless they are strictly spiritual. Sci-fi approaches the impossible as if it's simply not possible yet, and that this world has made a break through, allowing them to make this possible. Sci-fi also tends to spend a lot more time explaining how something works with science, or a modified version, while Fantasy explains it through the supernatural and mysticism.

Obviously no series in either category perfectly follows these rules. The cosmere explains that the supernatural is actually natural and measurable, therefore spiritualism is just another part of science. Star wars in my opinion does the opposite. It takes place in a society with future technology and all the trappings of Sci-fi, but it does it in a very fantasy way. Lightsabers are I think the best example, why would you ever need a sword when everyone else has laser guns, because cool fantasy that's why, it's a laser sword. The futuristic elements are portrayed with a mystic elements. And of course there is magic, they try to make is sciency later by explaining that the force is medicorians or whatever, but it still operates on a spiritual and mystical level, and truly isn't completely comprehensible. Which is in contrast to the Cosmere where all the mystical elements just feel like science that hasn't been explained yet.

Dune is where it gets a little weird to me. I think most people would put this in the hard Sci-fi camp, but I disagree. Yes this series is to Sci-fi what Lord of the Rings is to Fantasy, but I think there's a lot of Fantasy in there. I mean the voice? That's magic, Bene Gesseret being able to transmute substances in their body including poison? Magic. Prescience? It comes from a magic drug, made by magic worms! Yes the books do try to approach this from a very sciency way, but a lot of it just feels like magic, no matter how much Herbert tries to make it scientific. (Btw Sanderson's favorite book series other than the Wheel of Time is Dune, so you can definitely see a lot of his inspirations in this, in fact Taldain, the setting of white sands, is definitely just Cosmere Arrakis, like it even has its own version of sand trout.) There's also a shit ton of mysticism in Dune, and yes much of it is discussing the manufactured nature of religion and aspects of spirituality to control the masses, but there is also a sense that not all of it is made up, that the people in power are manipulating truth without really knowing what it is, just so they can get ahead and stay that way.

Obviously genre, especially in books are really just marketing terms designed to help find the right audience for a particular story. This is the same with YA. YA is an even less concrete genre as it requires very little. Mistborn was not originally marked as YA, it's an epic high fantasy, but after a couple years the boys at TOR figured out that it has a lot of the trappings of YA. It's fast paced, has a young strong female protagonist, a dark dystopian setting, and is written in pros that don't require an incredibly dense knowledge of vocabulary, making it easy to comprehend for all ages. It was a no-brainer for Tor to start printing a YA version(just a paperback with a different cover that is stylized in a way that is very common for YA). YA really just means a teenager could read this without feeling like it's homework. That's really it. There are a lot of people who hate YA for incredibly weird reasons. I personally am weary of YA, simply because I enjoy a slower plot with more room for nuance and sitting in the moment. YA tends to be more fast paced, which I enjoy, but it often comes at the cost of depth. There are a lot of YA books that I enjoy and a lot that I would enjoy if they were written to be a little more "boring". But some of y'all really just don't wanna read anything that is labeled as YA, and I'm positive it is just misogyny. Like y'all just don't wanna read books that are popular and "primarily" marketed towards women, and it's really, really pathetic.

I don't know how this turned into what it is, and I don't have a final point to end this on that will tie it all together. Enjoy this ADHD clusterfuck of a post where none of my points are truly taken to completion

I do not know how to end this, I just wanted to talk about it

#fanatsy #cosmere #dnd #brandon sanderson #scifi #publishing #star wars #dune #i really should get back on my meds

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bosquedemel · 2 months

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So I thought I could make a list of all the Star Wars books I've read so far, sorting them by what I thought of them. They're in each category in no particular order.

Favourites:

Revenge of the Sith novelization

(I'm including here all 6 novelizations of the prequel and original trilogies because i can't really separate them but ROTS is the best)

Tarkin (still shocked by how much I loved this)

Kenobi (not without its flaws but I read this so fast - which is unlike me - cause I was really so engrossed in the story)

Yoda: Dark Rendezvous

Dooku: Jedi Lost

Master and Apprentice (tailor-made for me)

Good, enjoyed reading them to different extents; the first two stand out while the others range from fine to okay and sort of superfluous:

Rogue One novelization

Shatterpoint

Labyrinth of Evil

Rebel Rising (YA) (my guilty pleasure)

Catalyst

Leia, Princess of Alderaan (YA)

A New Dawn

Dark Lord: Rise of Darth Vader

Dark Disciple (it's enjoyable if you have no attachments to or knowledge of these characters)

Moving Target + The Weapon of a Jedi + Smuggler's Run (these were a set of books featuring Leia, Luke and Han respectively, released right before TFA came out. they're short and easy reads)

Did not enjoy but they're not all around terrible:

Outbound Flight

Lost Stars (YA) (I did think this was terrible but in a frustrating way due to its potential so I have like, a personal beef with this book but others seem to like it)

Most Wanted (YA)

Avoid at all costs:

Lords of the Sith

Ahsoka

#i have a feeling i'm forgetting a couple #and then there are the books i haven't exactly read but have skimmed through thoroughly but ofc they don't count #sw books #<- check that tag for reviews of some of these books #text #books

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roosterbox · 3 months

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Fic Rec Friday 3/1/2024

Title: not everything becomes bullshit (not with you)

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, M/M

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley

Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Eddie Munson Lives, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, theyre a mess, Miscommunication, ya know the bullshit thing?, yeah - Freeform, that, thats the trauma, along with his damn parents, Healing, Cuddling

Summary: bullshit: n - stupid or untrue talk or writing; nonsense.

The thing with Nancy comes up with Eddie during an argument and Steve cannot seem to handle it.

———

For this, the last fic rec Friday (of this particular batch anyway), let’s take it back to the start. Back to the beginning of my newest obsession. So here you go - the first Steddie fic I ever bookmarked.

I went into this with next to no knowledge of the context surrounding it. I didn’t know about the whole bullshit thing, didn’t know shit about Family Video, or Vecna, or anything. Heck, I didn’t even know what their voices sounds like (almost still don’t in Eddie’s case - I’ll get to S4 eventually!). But the emotions, man. The emotions just drew me in. The dynamics. Even from this story, going in like 90% blind, I got the sense that I would latch on to Steve Harrington like a dog with a favored toy, and would never let go. Ever. Welp, here I am over a year later, still not letting go of my babygirl.

This fic easily established for me one of my favorite Steddie dynamics. That being emotional wreck!Steve and comforting!Eddie. Everything I’ve seen canonically makes Eddie seem like a great source of comfort. He looks like he’d give great hugs, you know? And Steve just deserves to be able to let himself go, emotionally speaking. That boy has been through A Lot in three or so years - either let him get therapy, or let him cry. Maybe both.

There aren’t very many other characters in this, other than Robin of course. Which is kind of as it should be. And that’s another aspect that I had no context for (still don’t, technically; S3 will continue! Soon!) - her platonic with a capital P relationship with Steve. There’s only a few crumbs of it here, but they are delicious. Also, yet another Steddie fic trope I love pops up here: Robin being extremely protective of Steve when she thinks that Eddie might have wronged him. It’s subtler here than I’ve seen in other stories, but that girl would go feral on a motherfucker for Steve’s sake. I adore that about her.

And let’s not forget that this fic features something else that I adore but rarely see in angsty fics - COMMUNICATION. A huge part of adding drama to relationships in fiction (in RL too let’s be real) is a distinct lack of communication. People keep secrets or dance around what they mean, when just SAYING SOMETHING straight up would solve so many fucking problems, lol. And while this may start out with typical miscommunication shenanigans, the shift when they realize that, no, we need to actually talk about this, is just too good. There’s even a line in the narration that says “communication is key and all that jazz, right?” YES, BOYS. YES. Talk to each other.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, the COMFORT in this emotional hurt/comfort story, is out of this world. I can deal with my Stevie baby being put through an emotional wringer as long as someone, preferably Eddie or Robin, is there to comfort him in the end. To remind him that, yes, he is loved beyond measure, and that he deserves said love. How lucky for me (and him) that this fic has comfort in it from both of them?

Just a beautiful, simple little h/c gem of a fic. Steve needs a hug, and he gets several of them. Perfect.

———

Next Week: Nothing! Zip! Nada! Null! This is, officially, the last of these fic recs I’m doing.

FOR NOW

Thanks so much for reading this, and for reading the fic if you do!

#fic rec friday #Steddie #writer: plusultrachaos #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #angst #these boys #they need each other #(also therapy)#(lol)

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i-cast-teatus-deletus · 4 months

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Part 3 Entertainment - Books Part 2

I finally(!) learned about Stuff Your Kindle Day (SYKD), which is a bit of a misnomer as it's

Not amazon- or kindle-exclusive

Multiple times throughout the year

but it's a day where indie publishers/author promo groups all sell free books at once, adding up to dozens or hundreds (and sometimes thousands) of free books at a time, for a single day. If you were thinking about getting some ebooks to help pass the time at consults/after surgery, it wouldn't take very many out of those large number of free books to have plenty of reading material. I've been able to confirm that, outside of the US, this is also available in Canada, the UK, and Australia. Other countries may be participating as well, but I'm struggling to confirm one way or another, and the same book may not be free in all regions.

It's worth mentioning that Kindle, Apple, Nook, and Kobo all have free apps if you don't have an ereader (or would rather use a tablet than have a dedicated ereader), and that all of these storefronts are, to my knowledge, participants in all of these events. I will say that I was initially hesitant to get an ereader and waited a long time to get one, but I don't regret it. I have been, in particular, VERY vocal in recommending them to people who struggle to read paper books because you can change the font/font size/margin to make them more accessible, including using the OpenDyslexia font.

SYKD originally was romance-exclusive, and the "official" STKD events are still heavily romance-focused, but there are other publishers and groups coordinating similar, smaller events in other genres ("Book Blast" seems to be the current popular name for discount events not associated with the original group running SYKD).

If you know me at all, I am a pretty prolific category romance reader (especially at places like the doctor's office, where a romance novel is a nice time-waster that doesn't require wifi and allows me to not be fully immersed while I listen for my name to be called), so I'm quite excited for the official announcement for STKD, likely happening in March. In 2023, for some measure of comparison, SYKD happened on March 31, June 30, September 20, and December 27.

Romance Bookworms is the home of the "original" SYKD and allows you to sign up for email alerts (or substack) when they announce the dates for 2024, which are a closely guarded secret. SYKD is the largest of events by FAR with about 2,000 books available in the December 2023 event. Romance is the primary genre, but other books in other genres are free for SYKD as well. Several sources indicate that Romance Bookworms has sections on their SYKD listings specifically for BIPOC authors and for books that feature LGBTQ+ protagonists.

Romance Book Lovers is an unrelated group that is hosting a Romance Book Blast, with the next listed date as April 23.

The Cozy Mystery Book Club has coordinated several Cozy Mystery Book Blasts in the past, including in January of 2024, with the next event listed publicly as April 25.

Witchy Bookworms coordinates the Witchy Book Blast, which ran last on January 27 and already has the next date listed publicly as April 27.

Fantasy Book Dragons just ran their first "Stuff Your Kindle with Fantasy" event in January and have mentioned plans for another event in June with no date announced yet.

YA Bookworms runs a similar YA-focused event, the last one I can find info on happened on October 7. They also have a substack.

Terrify Your Tablet seems to run on October 31 only each year (This is the same event as Spook Your Kindle; they changed the name to clarify that it's not amazon-exclusive).

Thriller Blast appears to be a similar event for mystery, suspense, and thriller books, with a similar hook of waiting on an email announcement for dates and no clear indication on the landing page when the last event was held. I also wasn't able to confirm anyone participating it in via reddit, or anywhere else, so your guess is as good as mine.

Romance Audiobookworms also runs a similar event for audiobooks, Stuff Your Earbuds, with an event announced for spring but the date still unannounced, just like SYKD. This is still a relatively new event, unlike SYKD.

There's a lot of whining online about the quality of the books available for these events (especially SYKD, which I'm sure is unrelated to the fact that it's mostly romance and the general feelings most people have about romance as a genre), but the fact of the matter is that books available on kindle, especially for free, vary wildly in quality all the time no matter what. I've quit reading a lot of duds in the year I've owned an ereader, but I've read a lot of things I liked, too, and I assume the offerings for these events are a similar mixed bag.

Considering how many new events have cropped up in the past 18 months or so, I'll be excited to see in any new author groups decide to run similar promotions in the future or whether more groups decide to align with SYKD.

#ICTD Part 3 Entertainment #Part 3 Books

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bestworstcase · 2 years

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Read your post on the relics and I did not pay any attention to the chains until you brought it up.

I remember seeing a theory that the sword will essentially be Excalibur and the spirit inside will essentially be the lady of the lake. Her name in Arthurian lore is either Vivian or Nimue.

Also have you noticed that the environments in the vaults is the season AFTER the corresponding maiden’s? The spring maiden’s vault had a hot desert (summer) and the winter maiden’s vault had a grassy field (spring). Which if the sword does turn out to be Excalibur, then the summer maiden’s vault might end up looking like a pond surrounded by trees with red-orange-yellow leaves.

Then imagine if the fall maiden’s vault looks like a snowy forest, just like Ruby was walking through in the red trailer.

kinda of two minds on the sword-as-excalibur thing because, while it does seem like the obvious pull and it is where i landed when i first started mulling over the sword and the crown for the purposes of fanfic (which is something of a complicating factor here, in that i have a pair of full-blown OCs and i gotta be real clear to myself on the distinction between "this is lore i assembled out of canonical crumbs to suit my fanfic" and "this is a theory i have about what's going on in canon," particularly when the two overlap significantly, which in this case they do)… well, rwby doesn't often go for the obvious pull. and jinn isn't an allusion to arthurian myth, so there's not exactly a pattern here, ya know?

the thread of imprisonment linking the genie in the lamp to merlin in the tree might be a pattern, or a coincidence, but as far as speculation goes i think “mythical characters for whom being trapped is a notable theme/event” is probably a category worth taking into consideration.

(for what it’s worth: the pulls i made for the aforementioned OCs were loki [sword] and prometheus [crown], and while obviously constructing OCs is a WHOLE other ballgame, on the most basic level of possible allusions they do check the “imprisonment” box and hold water if refracted through the lens of “spirit of destruction/choice,” so it’s like. i wouldn’t be SURPRISED? if rwby also went there. prometheus in particular feels like a solid candidate for the spirit for the crown because, well. something about choice and stealing fire from gods. and cinder lmfao.)

and oh ho ho i have a... theory? a thought ? about the interiors of the vaults. because it's, well, arbitrary. the maidens all have the same pool of general elemental powers. likewise the relics don't just lack any clear reason for their associations with the season of their respective maiden— they strike me as deliberately flouting the associations you might expect them to have based on the common cultural associations the four seasons have. like:

spring - the planting, the world thawing after winter = creation summer - a time of growth, freedom, maturation = choice fall - harvest time, preparation for winter = knowledge winter - cold, dark, symbolically everything 'dies' = destruction.

yeah? and where it gets even weirder is that the symbolic 'lesson' of each sister/season in the canonical fairytale describing the origins of the maidens themselves also fits much more naturally into the spring-creation, summer-choice, fall-knowledge, and winter-destruction schema:

spring plants a garden and teaches the hermit to tend to it; "life returned to the tired hermit and the forest, which flourished and became green and lush." creation, right?

summer dances and teases and invites the hermit out of his shell, reminding him of the possibility of joy and freedom. he learns not to limit himself to passive observance of the world and to instead takes an active part in it. that's choice!

fall advises the hermit to let go of his misconceptions about himself and his life and see himself clearly at last; he "realized that Fall was right" and eventually achieved a fuller understanding of himself. knowledge!

and winter—who arrived first, encountering the hermit at the height of his isolation, taught him to reflect and meditate until he found serenity and a renewed sense of purpose—in a sense, transforming his metaphorical 'death' into a period of rest or hibernation until his frozen solitude began to thaw. destruction, before the creative energy of spring entered his life.

and yet:

spring maiden = the maiden of knowledge summer maiden = maiden of destruction fall maiden = maiden of choice winter maiden = maiden of creation

why?

(the important thing to keep in mind here, i think, is that rwby has never presented these associations as a natural or intrinsic quality. the maiden-season-relic connection only exists, in-universe, because ozma set it up that way.)

now consider that—as you said—the two vaults we've gotten a look at so far don't line up with the seasons they're 'supposed' to have, with winter's vault [creation] being lush and green inside and spring's vault [knowledge] being a barren desert. so we've got this winter->spring, spring->summer pattern going on, and if that holds we should expect summer's vault [destruction] to be evocative of autumn and fall's vault [choice] to be evocative of winter.

BUT. i think—because of the arbitrariness of the seasonal associations in and of themselves, and because those associations are explicitly a social construct, and because if we follow the seasonal associations the plot has gone fall->spring->winter->summer and that’s um, not right, and i think it’s deliberately not right—there may be something different entirely going on.

namely, the relics exist in two different sets of pairs. right? we've got destruction+knowledge and creation+choice—the pairs given to humanity by the two brother gods. and we've (maybe) also got creation+knowledge and destruction+choice—the complementary power pairs, with the lamp able to eliminate (or at least mitigate) the risks of using the staff and (maybe) the crown and the sword being similar. [the world of remnant episode pertaining to the great war makes a heavy visual implication that ozma used the crown of choice in tandem with the sword of destruction, is where i'm getting that.]

moreover, the four relics symbolically [and perhaps literally] represent the four essential qualities that, together, define what humanity IS: creation AND destruction AND knowledge AND choice.

not four individual, separate magical artifacts. it's a set. we know there's a way to combine them into one thing that will summon the brothers back to remnant, and with the limited information we have now about how they work mechanically it seems very much like they are intended to be used together.

so: the vault with the lamp of knowledge inside it. what does it look like, on the inside? a desert.

knowledge was one of the gifts given to humanity by the god of darkness; the other was destruction. and where is the sword of destruction locked away? the desert of vacuo.

likewise, the staff of creation? hidden in a vault filled with green, grassy meadows. very much like the landscape of vale. where the crown of choice is hidden—and if i'm right about precisely where the crown's vault is hidden, namely the circular ruins where beacon academy's initiation is conducted, the crown is in fact hidden directly under a large, grassy meadow!

further: the vault doors we've seen echo the color scheme of the relics they protect. removing a relic from the vault destroys the doors, which to me suggests that the relics themselves might be the 'anchor' that sustains the vaults themselves—we don't really know enough about how magic works mechanically to say for sure that an 'anchor' is truly necessary, but cinder's use of the staff in v8 demonstrated that if you directly use a relic to create a portal to another realm, you cannot then destroy those portals until the relic has been removed from the 'interior' realm. the vaults were created by some other means, but the same basic principle of linking the existence of the vault to the presence of the relic inside it could very well still apply.

aaand if the vaults are materially connected to the relics in some way—if the presence of the relics in the vaults is somehow providing the energy necessary to maintain them, like plugging in some kind of magical battery?—then... it's not that much of a leap to wonder if maybe the vault interiors symbolically reflect, or are influenced by, the location of that relic's missing pair.

especially in light of the fact that: 1. the nature of the spirits inside the relics is very humanlike, with both jinn and ambrosius clearly being emotional, fully sapient beings, and 2. it rains in the ever after when ruby starts to cry.

[my secondary theory here is that—well. the god of light says explicitly that modern humans do not have the divine blessings given to their predecessors, and while mechanically that seems to mean "they don't have magic," metaphysically it's not... entirely implausible that for ancient humans, "creation, destruction, knowledge, and choice" weren't abstract capabilities but rather actual. literal gifts, something that materially, measurably existed in the human soul, were the source of magical abilities, and were taken away when the gods left. (consider the four larger orbs of energy salem conjures when she's fidgeting with her magic at the beginning of lost fable, which are conspicuously missing when her daughter does the same trick later on.)

ozpin's explanation of the maidens is that he "divided his magic" somehow and his "remaining" magic is now dwindling, but the thing about that is magical power doesn't really... seem to be a limited resource in the way that aura is? we've yet to see anyone with magic 'run out' like people run out of aura. even ozpin seems to be fairly cavalier in his usage of magic—he's cautious of giving it away, and it's not the first thing he turns to in a fight, but he's never hesitated to make full use of his own power when the situation calls for it.

i've been thinking that maybe?? what he actually did with the maidens was give them each one of the divine blessings. like literally, removed the Quantifiable Gift Of Creation from his own soul and gave it to winter, and so on, leaving himself with the metaphysical capacity for these qualities—because that can't be taken away, just as the gods couldn't truly obliterate humankind—but giving up the limitless energy source of the blessings themselves; ergo, his magic is 'dwindling' in the sense that he has to use aura to fuel it now.

this does leave the question of how the hell he gave the branwens shapeshifting abilities, but considering salem seems to have given cinder the ability to control grimm long before she got the maiden powers... maybe folks with magical abilities can just do that? share specific skills? and what makes the maidens so uniquely powerful is that they didn't get specific skills, they got the power source.

anyway all that to say i do wonder if maybe 'seasons' are just an arbitrary smokescreen ozma fabricated and the maidens are literally rather than symbolically the maidens of choice, creation, knowledge, and destruction, with the relic vaults each being linked to the maiden with the matching blessing.]

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safertokiss · 4 years

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Concentrated Interests

A/N: Hola my friends! This fic was my entry for the Secret Fic Swap I participated in with a couple of close friends on here and it was written and dedicated to @nerdgirljen. It was so much fun to write and thank you guys so much for all the support and love!

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: Fluff and SMUT

Word Count: 3.3k

ENJOY:)

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MASTERLIST

~~~

Spencer had never really understood the concept of soulmates or love at first sight.

In his mind, it defied pretty much every scientific law about human interaction out there and was simply a coping mechanism for those who were romantically unlucky. At least that was what he had thought until a certain tech analyst walked through the BAU’s doors and into his life.

He was frozen. Totally and utterly enamored by the woman his eyes were currently attached to. He watched her stumble into the bullpen, a large box situated in her arms, seemingly impairing the entirety of her vision and coordination, evident by the way she kept bumping into things in her path. It wasn’t until she hit a particular desk corner and spilled the contents of the box, her belongings scattering across the floor, that Spencer broke out of his stupor and took action.

“Woah there, let me help you with that!”, he exclaimed, immediately rushing to her side and starting to collect some of the fallen items to put back into the box.

“Oh, thank you so much. Gah, this is so embarrassing. I promise you I’m not always this uncoordinated and clumsy”, she explained with a nervous chuckle. After everything was picked up and they both had stood up from their crouched positions, she hurriedly straightened out her skirt before outstretching her hand. “Hi, I’m Y/n.” She immediately noticed the slight panic that crossed his features at her gesture and was momentarily confused.

“I-uh-I kind of don’t, um, do the whole hand shaking thing. Yeah, uh, the number of pathogens spread through a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to...oh god I’m sorry you didn’t ask for a full-out science lesson. It’s, um, really nice to meet you, I’m Reid. Doctor. Spencer”, he sputtered out nervously.

Chuckling softly, Y/n retracted her hand, opting to instead lightly nudge his shoulder. “Well Reid Doctor Spencer, it’s nice to meet you too”, a teasing smile adorning her face as she spoke. Spencer quickly felt a warm blush spread across his features at the absurdity of his introduction.

“S-sorry about that. What I meant to say is that my name is-”

“Pretty boy!”

Both of their heads swiveled towards the sound, searching for the source, before landing on a man across the room.

“Hotch needs us in the briefing room. Stop flirting with the new girl and get your ass in here!” They watched him walk away chuckling before turning back to each other.

“Pretty boy huh? Well I guess it’s fitting, I mean you do have really nice cheekbones and dimples. And your eyes are kind of beautiful. Not that I ummmm-not that I think you’re beautiful or anything, it’s just uhhh...um...I’m gonna stop talking now.” Spencer could feel the blush returning to his features, watching the same happen to her, from the frenzied rambling that had just poured from her lips, but he found it endearing on her and quite honestly, really adorable.

“I-uh I gotta go, you know, um deal with that, but it was very nice meeting you”, he sputtered out, sending a small wave in her direction. She shyly giggled at his nervousness which was surely reflected on her end as well. “See ya around Reid Doctor Spencer.”

“Spencer. It’s um-it’s Spencer.”

“Spencer”, she repeated back softly, nodding him off with a gentle smile on her face.

~~~

Spencer Reid was in love. The longer she was around him the more he realized he was completely and utterly in love with her, all of her. She was perfect in his eyes, intelligent, funny, a bit nerdy and just so adorable. The problem was just that he had absolutely no idea how to tell her how he felt. He had never really been the type to express his feelings to someone, especially to a girl as beautiful as Y/n.

The female species wasn’t exactly his strong suit and he was very aware of that fact, painfully aware. However, he stayed hopeful that someday soon he’d muster up the courage to express his affinity for her. Realizing that today was definitely not that day, Spencer tried to push his conflict to the back of his brain so he could try to get some work done. Not before noticing that Y/n was slightly late, though.

Less than a minute after he noticed her absence, she came bursting into the bullpen with the largest grin adorning her features, an obvious pep in her step. Spencer watched as she skipped over to the rest of the team who were gathered around Emily’s desk, close enough where he could pretty much hear the majority of the words exchanged and profile their reactions.

He heard JJ ask what was making her so chipper this morning, and he chuckled softly to himself as he heard her immediately start rambling about whatever had her so elated.

“Oh my god guys, you’ll never believe it! So a couple of weeks ago a good friend of mine asked me to help her with her website, because well...tech geek and all, so I got to mess around with all the software and went crazy! I was able to fiddle with the source code a bit and authorize a super high CRO and SEO to get her website out there. Not to mention all the growth hacking I was able to curate! Cool right?”

Y/n stopped to take a breath and noticed that the entirety of the team was staring at her with vacant expressions on their faces. She looked on with widened eyes as she asked, “What?”

“CRO?”, JJ questioned. Morgan awkwardly chuckled out a similar questioning tone, “SEO?” Of course that left Emily to bring up the rear. “Did I hear growth hacking in there?”

Her face scrunched up in confusion at all the questions that had just been hurled her way so suddenly. “Huh?”

“Baby girl we have absolutely no idea what any of the things you just mentioned are or what they do”, Morgan explained with a sympathetic smile on his face, as the other members nodded in agreement.

Spencer watched as Y/n’s face quickly morphed into one of utter disappointment at the knowledge that her colleagues had no clue what she was going on about. She had seemed so excited when she entered the bullpen earlier so he assumed she was probably very much looking forward to getting to talk all about it with her friends.

“Oh...that’s ok. Sorry for bothering you guys, sometimes I just get a little too excited and tend to ramble. I’ll um-I’ll talk to you guys later.” Y/n flashed them a small smile before making her way over to her desk, situated across the room near Spencer.

“Hey Spence”, she shyly waved as she passed, a deflated look on her face. Trying to lift her spirits at least a little, he returned her gesture with a huge grin and wave, happy to see her smile brighten a bit at his enthusiasm.

Once she was seated and facing away from him, he immediately found himself feeling overwhelmingly upset over her predicament. He hated seeing her look so defeated and down, she didn’t deserve to ever feel like that. She was simply too angelic for those kinds of feelings to permeate her mind.

Spencer wished more than anything that he knew what she was talking about so she could go to him. He’d let her ramble to him for hours on end if it meant he could listen to her melodic voice and see her beautiful face up close.

All of sudden Spencer slapped his hand against his head and groaned, “Of course you dipshit”, before pulling up a couple tabs on his computer.

For the next few hours his work was forgotten as he studied and learned pretty much everything there was to know about technical analysis and the programming that Y/n seemed so ecstatic about, anxious to give her, at last, a companion to discuss her passion with.

~~~

“See you later Reid!”

Spencer’s head snapped up as he heard the people around him saying their goodbyes and goodnights, realizing that he had been distracted by his screen the entire day and that it was already time to go home. He watched as his friends walked out together, all laughing about something that Morgan had said, before noticing movement in the corner of his eye.

As he turned his head he noticed that the only person who was still there in the bullpen with him was Y/n, and she was staring at the posse that had just exited the room, a longing look plastered across her features that broke his heart. Taking a deep breath and deciding it was now or never, he rose up from his seated position and made his way over to her, hoping that he had learned enough to lighten her mood.

“Hey there!”, he exclaimed when he had found himself right behind her. As soon as the words started escaping his lips, she jumped in her seat, her hand flying to her heart.

“Jesus Christ Spence! You scared the complete shit out of me!”

Chuckling softly at her overreactive response, he moved to sit on her desk, facing her heavily breathing sitting figure. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you that you were still here and was wondering why you hadn’t left with everyone else?” She quickly looked down and blushed at his questioning, embarrassed of her answer.

“Oh I-um they just looked like they were having a lot of fun and I didn’t really want to interrupt so I thought I’d stay back for a little bit to-uh finish up some stuff.” Once she finished her unconvincing explanation, Spencer leaned back a bit and studied her. While this was something he found himself doing often, always getting distracted by her spectacular figure, he focused on her body language more than anything, noticing the dark circles underneath her eyes.

“Y/n, you look absolutely exhausted. Have you even been sleeping lately?”, he asked, genuine concern laced within his words.

“Y-yeah I haven’t really. I’ve kind of been pretty preoccupied in the last few days helping out a friend. It’s really fun, but it’s also very time consuming”, she stuttered out, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Oh right! I had heard you mention that earlier today! That must be awesome getting to basically build your own website!”

“I swear I feel like a kid in a candy store doing that kind of stuff. I just find it so relaxing and exciting at the same time!”

“I totally get it. I was really impressed with how well you were able to manipulate the site’s conversion rate optimization-did you know that a site’s CRO and SEO are considered as two of the most essential tools required to run a thriving website or online business. It’s actually astounding how much the results differ between competition depending on their efficiency.”

All Y/n could do, while Spencer rambled on and on about her most passionate subjects, was sit there in complete awe. The sound of the tech-geeky words that spilled from his beautiful lips was simply orgasmic. Never had she met someone who seemed as enthused as her when it came to all her technical endeavors, and she didn’t know exactly how to react. Her biggest crush on the entire planet was sitting in front of her spouting off facts like they were going out of style.

However, amidst all the wonder that circulated through her being, confusion washed over her.

“Wait hold up! What’s going on Spence?”

“Uhhh, what do you mean?”, he questioned shyly, a blush coating his face.

Narrowing her eyes at him she expanded her questioning. “I’ve known you for months now and I can guarantee I have never once heard you mention anything even remotely technical. In fact I’ve heard you explain time and time again how confused you are by the complexities of the simplest of technology. Spill, pretty boy”, she demanded, maintaining eye contact with him.

Figuring out that he had been caught, he shyly lowered his head as the blush on his face deepened, embarrassment coursing through his veins. “I-I noticed how excited you were this morning when you came parading into the office, the wide grin that adorned your face, the skip in your step. And I heard you ramble on and on about your friend’s website and you just seemed so damn happy and then they basically just shut you down right away because they didn’t understand and I-uh I hated seeing you like that and wanted you to have someone to talk to. So I spent all day today researching and learning so you could have someone to talk to, so you wouldn’t feel alone. I-I’m sorry if that’s creepy or if it’s too-”

Spencer was suddenly cut off mid-sentence as lips smashed against his own, effectively shutting him up. His eyes immediately widened at the bold action, before he melted into the kiss, desperately responding to her fervent advances with an equal passion.

Y/n moaned into his mouth as his tongue probed at her wet lips, begging for entry. The feeling of their tongues entangling was euphoric and they both wanted, needed more. Spencer gently grabbed her and, turning so they were both facing it, lifted her onto the desk and stood between her legs. As the kiss deepened, their hands began to tear at each other’s clothing, Y/n hastily undoing his tie and dress shirt as he all but ripped off her blouse, groaning at the sight.

“God Y/n you’re so fucking beautiful.” He watched her eyes roll back into her head at his words as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. “Please Spence, I need you. I need you so much baby.” His eyes sparkled at her desperate plea, mirroring her need wholeheartedly.

Backing away slightly he unzipped her skirt and dragged it down her legs along with her panties, quickly reaching up to also unclasp her bra. “You’ve got me baby, you’ve got me.”

She surged forward and reconnected their lips, her hands weaving their way into his hair and tugging hard. The groan that escaped his throat lit her body on fire and further ignited her need for the man in front of her. His hands, that had been cupping her face, drifted downward stooping to briefly toy with her breasts before reaching his intended destination.

She moaned loud and deep as his hands cupped her sex, gently rubbing his fingers against her. He could feel her buck her hips slightly, searching for more. Receiving the message loud and clear, he inserted his pointer finger into her, reveling in the throaty groans that poured from her lips. As he added more digits into her and gently rubbed her clit, their lips moved rapidly against each other.

Y/n needed more, letting her hands lower to the obvious bulge that was straining against his slacks, palming him incessantly. Moaning hoarsely, he pulled away and quickly undid his pants, desperate for some sort of relief. As he stepped out of his slacks and boxers, he watched her eyes widen as they took in the sight in front of her.

“Woah.” He nervously chuckled at her response.

“Uh t-thanks?”

Giggling at his uncertainty she reached out and dragged him in once again, feeling his swollen tip bump against her, both of them moaning at the euphoric feeling. Realizing how fast things had moved, he pulled back slightly to search her eyes. “Are you sure baby?”

Falling even more in love with him, her smile widened as she nodded. “I am so very sure Spence. I-I love you.” She watched the grin that spread across his face at her confession.

“God Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he lined himself up at her entrance and swiftly thrusted into her dripping heat. The overwhelming feeling caused both of them to let out matching groans of pleasure, Y/n latching onto Spencer and wrapping her arms around his shoulders to get a grip. Once he was sure she was ok, he started slowly thrusting in and out of her, soon setting a steady pace.

“Oh Spencer! You feel so perfect inside of me! So, so good!”, you exclaimed, cries of pleasure leaving your mouth.

“Baby you’re so warm and tight around me, I love you so much!”

“I love you t-too!”

He gradually increased his already brutal thrusts, Y/n feeling herself fastly approaching the brink of ecstasy at the hands of the resident genius. Leaning back on her elbows, Spencer used the opportunity to pound even harder into her wanting body, his own release just around the corner.

“Are you going to cum for me pretty girl?” She couldn’t control herself after hearing his dirty words, unaware that he was capable of such a thing, feeling her eyes roll back once again. She nodded fervently, about to crash over the edge. All rational thought was out the window once his fingers found her throbbing clit, rubbing incessantly, catapulting her into her climax, her pussy clenching around his rigid cock as she came.

“Oh my god Spencer!”

Her reactions were simply too much for him, groaning and moaning uncontrollably, finding his thrusts sputtering out of control as his cock twitched deep inside of her, quickly reaching his highly anticipated orgasm. She felt his seed fill her up completely as he panted out her name over and over again, both of them coming down from their highs, breathing deeply.

“Wow. Fucking wow,” she blissfully sung, a wide grin coating her lips.

“Y/n, baby, that was insane. You’re insane.”

He helped her off the desk so they could redress and finally leave the office, noticing how late it had gotten. They couldn’t help themselves from sending each other giddy smiles as they put on their clothes and eventually made their way down to their respective cars.

Neither one of them seemed ready to leave each other just yet, some unspoken feeling crackling in the air between them. Taking the initiative, Y/n leaned forward, gently connecting their lips in a kiss that held the same passion from earlier, but was much more relaxed and romantic. Pulling back after a few moments, Y/n’s eyes sparkled up at Spencer’s as she spoke.

“Spence, what you did earlier...no one’s ever done something like that for me. You have no idea how much it means to me that you would go out of your way just to make me feel comfortable and happy.”

“Y/n, I promise you I wanted to wholeheartedly. Nothing matters more to me than your happiness. I just-I just love you so damn much. I think I have since you walked in and dropped all your shit on the floor”, he said chuckling.

“Heyyyy, that was one time jerk”, she defended, a matching chuckle evident in her voice. “But I know what you mean. I think I’ve loved you since you introduced yourself as Reid Doctor Spencer, that memory will forever be embedded in my mind.” She couldn’t stop the light giggle that fell from her lips at the thought of their first meeting.

Meeting her eyes, suddenly a bit shy, he gently cupped her face, “What if, from now on, I introduced myself as your boyfriend?”, he asked cautiously, anxiously waiting to see how she reacted to his proposition. Instead of answering right away she jumped forward, throwing her arms around his neck and connecting their lips once more.

“I would love nothing more, my gorgeously intelligent boyfriend.”

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#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencerreidsmut #cm fic #cm smut #mgg fic #mgg #mgg smut #mgg x reader #spencer x reader #fluff #smut

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superborb · 2 years

Text

TTFeb: Three thoughts on the publishing industry

chestnut_pod prompted: Thoughts/opinions/knowledge on The Publishing Industry. (/Industries.) Whatever that looks like -- ebook pricing? abominable translation practices? fact-checking in non-fic? changes in YA style over the last 20 years? Chinese specific as received in the Anglosphere? literally anything I thought a bit, and I don't have any entire post length thoughts, but I DO have three bullet point thoughts. 1. Isn't the entire phenomenon of webnovels so interesting? (I'm only passingly familiar with the Chinese, Korean, and Japanese varieties.) You could argue they draw influence from the serial novel, but it's also a response to a niche for lighter fare (e.g. cell phone novels) opened up by the possibility of micro-transactions funding authors. English webnovels don't have the same market share; Kindle Vella does not seem to be super popular AFAICT. Is it the normalizing of sending small amounts of money? (But we do have ko-fis and Patreons?) Or is it something about how readers in English envision themselves? Less of a taste for a bazillion word length novels? The niche being filled with easily discoverable fanfic already? 2. I was never quite sure what the distinction between YA and MG (middle grade) was, and I kind of fell into a reflex of thinking that if I liked a book intended for a teen, it must be MG. Of course formally, MG is for a younger audience than YA, but the way that these categories have kind of solidified into particular tropes is so odd. Why did that happen? Is it because of the 'one book sells well, then everyone follows' phenomenon of a genre in WAY too close contact? Is it the genre-ification, where before books might be more nebulously for children or teens? (Or am I just too old now--) 3. I don't like that authors have to do all this marketing on twitter and can't help but feel that it's a result of not enough support from the publishers. (See also: not enough editorial support from publishers, especially for debut authors.) I honestly typically want a BIG separation between the author and the work, so I can evaluate the work on its strengths only. Exceptions exist, but mostly when there are other works to read in conversation with that work. Of course, I can find reading author blogs fun and interesting, and obviously, I have friends who are authors, but the overall balance has tilted too far into requiring authors to be influencers IMO. Back to masterlist

#ttfeb

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ms-a-z-u-l · 4 years

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The Alley (Dabi x Reader)

Summary- You meet Dabi in an alley on a regular basis until he tells you that seeing each other will no longer be possible. The only question left is: why?

Categories- Angst, romance if you squint

Warnings- Only cursing

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

A/N: This one was actually already here but I accidentally deleted it. Also, for some reason Tumblr is not showing my posts with the tags and I have no idea how to fix that :,) I’m still uploading in the case some day it does and for those who can see it, thank you for reading!

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

“Go back, squirt”

“Why?”

With a sigh, Dabi turned around to look at you. You had barely gotten to your recent go-to place: a secluded alley, sure to keep away any lingering and curious eyes that could see you meeting with a villain nonetheless. Since the particular day you happened to be innocent bait (that’s what they thought you were) in order to rile up the new heroes, recently graduated from U.A with the respective names Shoto and Deku (they have been around the news a lot lately along with a certain explosion hero you couldn’t quite remember his name). Their plan ended up going wrong, nonetheless. As soon as the one grabbing you got distracted, you gave him in the shin as well as harsh bite to the arm and sprinted out of there.

However, you ended up stumbling into someone, and because luck was not on your side that day, it was not a hero but one of the villains at the site. You put up your decent fight and insults you could give (he particularly remembers the one regarding how he never learned how to use a stapler) and the name of “Charcoal” you gave him throughout that day.

Regardless, after the commotion ended and everyone escaped, you were let go by him in an alleyway without saying a word. It was odd. He didn’t say a word, but looking at his eyes, you could tell he might’ve wanted to say something, so out of curiosity you kept coming back to that alley in hopes he would be there.

And now here you were. You stopped counting the times you met in that place, it was a silent agreement when to meet that overtime you could just look at his eyes and know when he’ll be there. Today was different, though, today he was more serious and hadn’t thrown any half ass comment your way that made you tick. He hadn’t made eye contact and had his back toward you.

When he had finally looked at you though, you saw it. It was something seen usually in his eyes, but it was there. Resignation, but for what it was the question.

“I won’t come here anymore, so you should stop coming here too, maybe even pretend like none of this happened”

You silently stared for a moment before opening your mouth, “But why? Did something happen? Did I do something? If you’re beginning to take my picking at you seriously, I’ll stop really, no worries” you said hurriedly trying to make sense why he wouldn’t want to see you anymore. However, you stopped talking when you saw his face harden as jumbles of words came out of your mouth. “It’s not any of that, stop babbling” he sighed again and continues, “It’s no use doing this. You sneaking in here just to talk to me, I don’t see the case anymore, besides you know it’s dangerous associating with me. You’re wasting your time and I’m wasting mine coming all the way here just to indulge you in conversations that can be forgotten as soon as we both go our separate ways.” With that, he started walking away. But of course, being you we’re talking about, you wouldn’t have that half-assed information that sounded like a way to get you to go away.

“I won’t take that shitty excuse from you. You never looked like you hated it and besides, if you were just wasting your time, then you would have never come in the first place when I first looked for you here, or the next or the next and all the times you came” you started grabbing onto his sleeve, pulling him to at least look at you, show any sign he was listening. Suddenly, you flinched. You started feeling a burning in your hand, and it was getting painfully hotter. When it got unbearable in a matter of seconds, you tried to quickly pull away, but Dabi grabbed you by the wrist and faced you. He had a cold expression, as if wanting to truly frighten you and drive you away. “I don’t give a damn what you thought all of this was. Just accept I got bored and tired of doing this and entertaining you. It’s not my fault you started getting any ideas and believe this could be one of those beautiful disgusting friendships you see on shows. This is real life, doll, and it disappoints you so bad that eventually you get tired of the shit that it pulls you to.”

All you could do was stare in shock. You didn’t want to believe any words that came out of his mouth. It couldn’t be right, he wouldn’t have stuck around for so long, he wouldn’t have actually shown even the tiniest trace of genuine interest to what you both talked about and the mirth toward your antics. It was simply unacceptable, he was actually a part you began to look forward too. And now he himself wanted to take it away. “Then I don’t care either” you said confidently, however he misunderstood. “Good, this is easier on me now, see ya never I guess-“

“I don’t care what you said. Because i don’t believe it. Even if you say you got tired and bored, I’ll still come the next day, and the day after that one, until you really get tired of it and disappear completely. And if its about me being in danger, well if was that situation that got us to meet, so I don’t care either” you stopped talking with eyes closed, but a felt a presence. Slowly, you lifted your head and he was right there with an honestly unreadable expression.

“Um, ahh- well what I mean exactly is that I don’t believe your bullshit and I still want to stick around here and see you as weird as it may sound, don’ttakeittheotherwayplease-” among your nervous muttering and gradually fast talking, he lifted both of his hand. You didn’t flinch, to his surprise (he didn’t show it however) but rather waited for his next move. It wasn’t a harsh gesture, far from it, it was gentle. He was really cupping your cheeks and caressing the skin, his eyes finally changing, the only way to know how he felt cause he would damn himself if he said the feelings he held, whatever they may be.

“ You’re impossible.. and irritating.. and sarcastic as hell”

You huffed and rolled your eyes lightheartedly, “I got the point, as if you’re all roses and charm”

He lightly chuckled and continued, “If something happens, I only want you to remember the times we were here. Not a bloodied corse in the pavement, because let’s be honest here, this life I’m leading here only ends there, and I don’t want you getting involved in that and end up hurting you along the way, that’s why I want to stop it now, stop seeing me and getting more damn attached, is no good sticking with me-“

“But-“

“No, you listen to me, doll. You’re gonna go back home, go to sleep, and the next day when you wake up you go about your day as always and after you get out of your last class, go home and repeat, simple as that”

At this, your tears started to fall and you choked out, “No, no, I cant do that, you can’t ask me that!” You shook your head repeatedly, “Please, Dabi, don’t ask that of me, I can’t just up and leave and pretend you were never there. I know I don’t say it but I care about you”

“Doll, doll, hey look at me, common, you’re not hiding that pretty face from me are you” he said, squishing your cheeks.

“Dabii!” You exclaimed, not in the mood for any flattery.

“Ok, ok I’ll stop, but look at me” raising your head, and grabbing onto his arms, you waited for him to keep talking. “I’m not doing this it of malice as unbelievable as it may sound. I’m doing this cause, now that we’re letting it all out here, fuck it, I care about you too, and the least I want is getting you into a world that will only let you know of suffering. For the same reason that I care about you, Y/N, is why I want you to go back and have a nice life, and that means is gonna have to be without me.”

After a moment, heard you in a small voice, “But for me, a nice life means you’re in it”

As cliche as it sounded, your words actually touched Dabi. He knew it was dumb, considering what he wanted to do was to let you go, but you just so damn persistent, and he figured it might do for a proper goodbye. Witch that, he leaned down and left a single peek in your right cheek. It lingered more than he wanted to, but it was the first and last time he could feel you like that. All you could was blink out of shock. His lips were not soft like you read in books, they were rough, but somehow the fact that it was him made you care less about those ideal descriptions. Before fully pulling away, you heard him whispered, “Maybe in another life we get, doll”

................................

You couldn’t change his mind, is what you learned the next day waking up in your room. Both of you stayed siting in that alley talking for the last time until you fell asleep.

You knew you couldn’t change his mind when the next days he made good on his promise of not showing up at all.

Eventually, you did what he asked, going about the day with the exception of going to that secluded alley. You made few friends along the way who managed to distract you from time to time after lectures, hang outs at any place they stumbled upon. After an invite to a cafe, you said your goodbyes to them and started walking home. Somehow, it felt odd. You thought it was your mind, but you kept feeling a certain way. You started looking around but saw nothing. Just when you gave up and started looking down, you saw a figure in the building across form the cafe, with widened eyes, you could see it, the coat slightly flowing behind him.

With a newfound small smile, you started walking again, witch the newfound knowledge that he never really left.

“Yeah, I guess we can meet each other in another alley, you asshole”

#mha #mha dabi #dabi my hero academia #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #mha x reader #fanfic #oneshot #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #reader #writing #boku no hero x reader

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shelikesthosefunnypeople · 3 years

Note

if you're still doing the smiths asks, Hand In Glove? ✨✨✨

Oops I didn't see this! I love Hand In Glove. 😊❤️

Describe your closest friend(s)?

Since this is Tumblr, I hope you don't mind if I cover offline and online friends? Because I'd say the two groups are pretty different.

My closest offline friends I met through school. They're all pretty introverted - that's probably part of what drew me to them - and most of us fit into the "girly swot" category since being in the same classes for stuff is why we met. Y'know - the diligent, well behaved, quietly stressed out of your mind type. I will clarify that we've never been in the "suck up" category, at least in my opinion, it's just that for us the rebellion was happening inside rather than outside so no one else noticed. Introverted, like I said. 😂 That's how I see it anyway; in truth that's a bit of a generalisation and not as detailed an explanation as I could give for how I think we functioned in an academic setting... But I'll spare you my waffling! I know what we are so it's fine.

My offline friends are the people I have/have had inside jokes with, jokes that would make no sense to anyone else because they rely on the history of our relationship and the context of us being in the same environment to work. 😂 One of my closet offline friends has an outlook on life not a million miles away from my mother's, which was kinda funny once I realised. Another two were friends with each other before they knew me and I always think of them as a pair. They're quite in sync in some ways. Difficult to explain. If either of you are reading this, hello. I see you liking my posts! 😂

I don't want to go into too much detail about the specifics of my offline friends because I don't want to breach their privacy.

As for online friends? I guess it's a whole different kettle of fish. We didn't come together so there's none of that "localness" and shared knowledge coming from that to bond over. We came together, quite deliberately, because we liked the same media. The origin of my online friendships are that we - at the same point in time - were obsessed enough with a particular show/film/celebrity to seek out others who were the same.

I have quite a few internet friends for whom having that shared interest isn't the crux of the relationship anymore - and in fact might not even be a factor in the relationship at all anymore since I have at least a couple of online friends who aren't really into the thing we bonded over now. I guess online friendships are paradoxes because they can be intense but distant at the same time. People can tell each other all the little thoughts they don't usually say out loud but might not ever get a full shot of the others' lives or ways of being (unless they meet up one day and become offline friends too).

So, what are my online friends like? Most of them are utterly obsessed with Rik Mayall. 😂 They tend to be more political in varying ways than the people I know offline, because I think that's what most of us are like online. Also, they're all different ages and sometimes different generations - because that's what happens when you're not in a school. 😂 They are creative, sometimes in very random and amusing ways, and they are people who want to make connections with others, feeling comfortable enough to share highs and lows. At least in my experience. And I feel like that kinda just describes the general internet persona for whichever massive corner I inhabit (well, apart from the being obsessed with Rik Mayall bit, that's our little thing 😂). But there ya go.

Anyway, shout out to my friends - offline and online - and here's to any future friends we all make! 🍷

Thanks for the ask!

#asks #anon #friends

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cherry3point14 · 4 years

Text

Stranger Than Fanfiction: Ch 3

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Meta baby. Pure meta. Word count: 2,100. Chapter Summary: Your google search turns up something unexpected. A/N: No author in this one for... reasons. Also this one is kind of short and lame. A means to an end if you will, but trust me, Ch 4 is a doozy. P.S it’s nearly 3am so Chapter 4 will be up when I wake up, ya dig.

Ao3 if you prefer

It’s almost funny how dramatic the voice in your head wants to be about those suited criminals and yet it doesn’t care to elaborate on anything important. Like, say, your imminent death. The mention of it was so casual, calm, but a couple of weirdos want to pretend to be insurance adjusters and suddenly it’s all pretty prose and run-on sentences. Flowery language about broad-shouldered men in roaring muscle cars that are going to change your life. She’d kept going while you’d interviewed Maggie Hall. She’d harped on and on about how you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

Of course, you couldn’t stop thinking about them, she wouldn’t shut up about them.

After an entire monologue about the way the paper felt in your hands and could never be replaced by computers—purists are the worst—you finally get to leave. That's when you get some respite. You’re walking out into the late afternoon sun and thanking Maggie for her time and it's bliss. Maggie's story sounds a little off, after years doing this you have this gut instinct for when you should investigate further. Funnily enough, you have drama in your life that you’ll submit a valid claim anyway. Just so you can get this cursed case out of your hair. You might even hurry it through the system before the thing has the chance to kill you.

You’re still not sure how a case could kill you. You’re a pencil pusher at best and the interview with Maggie is an excellent example of the majority of your fieldwork, obviously excluding the criminals at the start. Unless your demise is death by papercut.

For now, you’ve given up trying to fathom out the voice you’re hearing, especially since she's chosen to once again go radio silent. If she won’t say anything useful, like say how not to die, then you were going to have to figure out how to skip ahead on your own. Since she kept talking about the imposters you’d met that day, they seemed to be an excellent place to start.

CNK 80Q3. Ohio plates. That's as much as you know without google.

That evening you set yourself up in the same way you would to work from home. There's a desk in the corner of your dining room with a chair that offers enough lumbar support for the longest of research sessions. Although it’s your personal laptop and there’s not normally a large glass of wine sitting next to you when work.

After it powers on you’re assaulted by the usual pop-ups; windows you forgot to close last time and your emails. Procrastinating is not a new routine, and you’re on a mission, so they all get minimized instead of closed completely. Then you open a new browser window and a stark google homepage stares back at you. A hopeful new beginning.

CNK 80Q3. You’re genuinely surprised that she hasn’t started talking again to describe the change in the air as you type in the plate number. Or some drivel about the way your fingers emphasize each letter and number. It’s all there happening anyway, making the moment foreboding, but your narrator doesn’t seem care.

The first row of results are images. Weirdly its images of the license plate itself. That doesn't strike you as odd at first glance and then you think about it a little more. Why are there so many pictures of this particular license plate? Who is running around taking these pictures? You're pretty sure if you typed in your own plate number there would be no pictures of it. And then you see some shopping results where you can actually buy the plate. While the online shops might explain the images, it only really poses more questions. Why are so many people buying that license plate? What’s so special about it?

You take a sip of your wine before you scroll further, savoring the taste as well as the way it relaxes your shoulders. You don't own any 'fun' novelty coasters that say it but you're inclined to agree with the statement you've heard before. Wine really does make everything better.

You’re not yet into the murky depths of page 2 but you’re far enough down the page now to make it past the sponsored results. These links come thick and fast from websites that all seem to have one word in common. Supernatural.

Then you see your salvation. A page called Supernaturalwiki—the link is simply titled: Impala—and you stop scrolling, a grateful sound slipping past your lips as you do. Wiki, you know that word. Like Wikipedia. Wikipedia has references and moderators', clear and concise explanations. This was the easy way out you were looking for.

That’s what you hope as you click on the link anyway. Your naivety lasts all of twenty seconds before the page loads. With its stock image of a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, and a quote about it being the most important object in the universe.

Or it's the most important object in some books at least.

Further clicking and longer sips of wine reveal it’s a series of books called Supernatural—with the title of the wiki you should have seen that coming. These were story after story of ghosts and demons and angels? There are pages that describe monsters, urban legends, and two men. Sam and Dean Winchester. They each have dedicated pages with their whole lives mapped out.

Sam and Dean are fictional brothers and apparently the heroes. Each of their respective profiles begins with an illustrated image from book covers, and then a series of quotes that contradict those pictures. Then their lives are intricately detailed, or should you say they are chronologically recorded according to each book. You would read their histories in full if it wasn't for how tiny the scroll bar is, indicating that these profile pages are ridiculously long.

You sit back in your chair and take a deep breath in the hopes of it being soothing. Or answering all your questions. It does neither. You have no answers and more stress.

This went beyond two men pretending to do your job now. Those guys were driving around in a car with fictional license plates. What was this? Some weirdly immersive cosplay? Was that something Sam and Dean did in the books?

Even so, those two guys weren’t roleplaying at comic con, they were actually in that woman's home. If you hadn't arrived they could have done anything. They could be doing anything now.

There's a ding from the kitchen which means the frozen meal you’d thrown in the oven is ready. Not that you stop thinking about this while you go and grab it because the more you think the less sense everything makes. Like why is a narrator who, until now, was obsessed with those guys, so very silent all of a sudden?

Back at your desk with hot food, you head back to google to see if you can buy these books anywhere because knowledge is power. Unfortunately, not even Amazon has copies. It’s only when you add the term “ebook” to your search do you find a Tumblr blog with links to download all the files, split into two categories. Published and unpublished. There are a lot of Supernatural books and from the looks of it there’s an equal amount of drama over how the unpublished ones got out.

You start downloading them without consciously making a decision to read them. Downloading kind of happens because your macaroni cheese is too hot for your mouth to handle yet, and your hands still need something to do. Besides you didn’t necessarily need to read all of them, if they were truly terrible you’d delete the files. No harm, no foul. But if this was the only way to get answers then you and your kindle were going to be pretty busy this weekend.

“Morning Laura.” Nobody likes Mondays, yet you have a little bounce in your step having made your usual green tea, got dressed, and driven to work in complete and utter silence. In fact, you’d heard nothing all weekend. The caveat was that, yes, you’d spent all weekend reading those books.

You liked reading and without discrimination. Trashy romance novels at the airport? You betcha. Fantasy books thicker than your mattress? Sure thing, order a pizza. But a mystery? Well, those were your favorite. Of course, the detective needed some sort of sketchy backstory and there had to be a fishy amount of red herrings. Most importantly there had to be something to solve. It was an elevation of your day to day life and you always get sucked in. In your job, you try to solve the most benign mysteries; people faking insurance claims. More often than not there isn’t even a mystery to solve, someone really did slip and break something. So, a mystery that grabs you out of nowhere is like a promotion for you, a challenge.

That had been how those Supernatural books had dragged you in. Ghosts and ghouls you could take or leave, you might have stopped reading if that’s all there was. Then this Carver Edlund went and put in that damn side plot about their missing father. It was too enticing, addicting. From the cryptic disappearance to the indecipherable journal of clues. John Winchester would be the death of you.

Or case 24-01 would be. The jury was still out on that.

And now it’s Monday. You’ve heard nothing more from the voice in your head—it may have been a low-level case of carbon monoxide poisoning—and the boys are so close to figuring everything out you can taste it. Technically they know John is alive by now, you finished Shadow some point yesterday afternoon and felt yourself choke up at the emotional goodbye with a father they just got back. But they still have no clue what he's up to, which is a hideous funhouse mirror reflection of your own life. Hopefully, by the time they figure out John’s game plan, you'll have your life figured out too. And fingers crossed figuring everything out will involve staying alive as well.

“You look like you’re feeling better this morning.” Laura is her perky self, always a little too happy for this side of 9am.

Oh right, you went home sick on Friday. You should remember things like that. “I think it was a bug or something I ate maybe.”

“Sure, sure. One of those convenient Friday bugs.” She winks at you.

If she accused you of that say, last week, you’d have laughed it off given that's a thing everyone has in common; trying to skip out on work. So, that's what you try to do this side of the weekend. You push out something that hopefully resembles a regular person's laugh like you’re in on the joke. You have to fake it because you’re still thinking about Providence. The book you’d finished that morning instead of watching the news. You’re still wondering if Sam is starting to move on after Jessica.

Needless to say, you understand now. The many fan blogs and the artwork you’d glanced at before you started reading. All those things that you’d disregarded as an unhealthy fascination for a bunch of books. Now you’re one of them, obsessed. Walking into the office with your kindle tucked in your bag and Salvation just begging to be read.

This goes beyond finding John. That plot got its hooks in you but you’ve known John was alive since Home and you’re still reading. You could also blame this on your general love of reading except it goes beyond that too. Honestly, it’s hard to pick one thing. They’re really great books. Sam and Dean have such turbulent lives but they still have each other. They’re snarky, lost, angry, and caring. They’re both so different but the sibling relationship is so real. And the stories go beyond a new monster every book, there are these huge interesting story arcs that you couldn't stop reading if you tried. John Winchester had been the first example of these addictive plot points, but not the only one.

“Y/N?”

You snap your head up, “sorry, sorry.”

“I was only saying you’re going to be here all day then, lunch?”

Even though Laura must see the decision on your face she still pretends to hope until you start speaking. “Actually I have a lot to catch up on so I’ll probably be working through. Tomorrow?”

She smiles brightly and nods, “sure thing.”

As bad as you feel about lying to Laura she has presented you an opportunity. Everyone thinks you were sick on Friday. They even think you're behind on your work and they don’t know you’ve already conducted the initial interview. Which makes your decision to sit at your desk and prop your kindle up next to your screen even easier. Nobody would notice the difference between you concentrating or reading. If you skip lunch you might be able to get to Bloodlust out of the way too.

Continue to Chapter 4.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer StrangerThanFiction tags: @jaylarkson

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skvaderarts · 3 years

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Hiraeth Chapter 17: Regulation

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Seventeen: Regulation

Note: Sorry the upload was a little late today. I was out of town at Microcenter trying to get a GODDAMN GRAPHICS CARD!! Ahem… sorry about that. I think you might all like where this story is going to go from here. Oh boy, do I have some ideas…

(-~-)

In truth, no one present was entirely sure what to make of the scene that they had just happened upon. While they had indeed just witnessed it, there was no easy way to actually explain it. The gigantic demonic minotaur had collapsed and was already beginning the process of becoming ash, something that they welcomed, especially considering the fact that none of them had been available to actually attempt to assist with stopping the creature’s rampage. But that was the very root of the issue.

How on earth had this intrepid stranger managed to actually do battle against such a large for on his own?

While the concept of another hunter being able to take on something beyond the classification of a lesser demon was not at all unfamiliar to them, this was something else entirely. At first glance, the quiet stranger that they had allowed to tag along on their trip with them didn't seem at all capable of doing what he had just done. If nothing else, they had assumed that he possessed some basic combat abilities. Perhaps enough to protect himself. But this… to be able to harness and wield that kind of strength…

"This is curious. To my knowledge, the Ludwig Family doesn’t have any devil hunters among their ranks. And they never have." Vergil said as he stepped forward, an intrigued look on his face. While it was true that the Ludwig family were practitioners of a variety of combat types and had been for the entirety of their existence, he had never seen one use the type of power that the redhead had just utilized, and never to the degree that he could use it. Clearly, he was proficient at a level that exceeded that of the average user, and that was something that Vergil found both fascinating given his initial impressions of the young stranger, and alarming. Normally he was better at gauging the power level of his opponents. Sirrus had flown way below his radar.

“You’re not mistaken. They do not.” Sirrus said calmly, sheathing his gleaming blade once again. While it was unclear precisely where he’d actually drawn it from, what was clear was that it had come from within his coat, and he had just returned it to its rightful resting place. But how he had managed to walk around with a blade that easily equaled the length of Yamato on him without alerting anyone to its presence was beyond any of them. Did he have access to a pocket dimension of some sort? Was their lack of interest in his capabilities what had kept them from simply not noticing it? Because if so, they needed to keep their guard up a bit better than that in the future.

An almost questioning look passed across Dante’s face as he seemed to take in the response of their new companion. Suddenly he realized that he truly didn’t know very much about him, and he found it more than a little bit disconcerting that he hadn’t really put much thought into the possibility of him posing a threat to him. The last intrepid stranger who had happened upon him in such a manner had been V, and before a few other names came to mind. Trish, Lady, Lucia… hell, even Beryl fell into that category easily enough! How many times was he going to have to learn this lesson?

“If that’s the case, then how do you know how to do… whatever that just was? And where’d ya learn to do it in the first place?” Dante interjected, noting Vergil’s silence. One could only assume that he was considering something, but despite the fact that silence was a trademark of his stoic older twin’s personality, that didn’t mean that he had ever been particularly comfortable with it. Left alone to his own devices, Vergil’s mind was just as deadly a weapon as his blade or any other ability or armament that he possessed. And if he wasn’t plotting the demise of someone or something, he was probably lingering in a sort of stasis, fixating on some lingering regret or other toxic thought. It was best to not let him idle for very long, lest he come to regret it

The man in black adjusted his coat, sliding his arm back into the long sleeve that it had once occupied. It was best that he do so, lest he accidentally allow his favorite garment to drag along the ash-covered ground. It was so incredibly difficult to get demonic ash out of this kind of material. “A reasonable enough question. And one I shall answer. But can we do it while we head back to your friend’s house? The air here had become rather unpleasant, and I’d like to stop having to breathe it. Methane and sulfur and all that. It’s bad for our lungs.”

Nero considered scoffing at the statement for a brief moment before thinking better of himself. It was best not to antagonize him, at least not until he knew how to do it without ending up cut in half or impaled like that demon. A quick glance over at V was all that it took to see that he was not alone in this assessment. The taller summoner seemed to be deep in thought, not that he wasn’t in most instances. But something about the look on his face had changed in some subtle way, and he was sure now that he was not the only one with doubts and concerns. In truth, Sirrus was still smack dab in the middle of his “suspect as hell” list, but now he was starting to wonder if he was asking the wrong questions. That didn’t mean, however, that he couldn’t ask a simple question. After all, what harm could that do?

“Okay, that makes sense. But then who the hell are you?” Nero said calmly but with an obvious tinge of unamused irritation on his face. He wasn’t sure he knew what to think of him at this point, and while he didn’t exactly perceive him as a threat, the fact that he hadn’t informed them that he possessed that kind of power made him slightly uneasy. Or maybe in some small ways he had. After all, Sirrus’s calm demeanor in most threatening situations should have tipped him off as a possible indicator of this kind of power, but Nero had no way of knowing for sure. But he wouldn’t put it past him to play those sorts of games with them. He just seemed odd in that kind of way.

Sirrus shrugged nebulously at the comment as it if didn’t affect him much or he had been asked the question before enough times to have expected it. “Again, I have next to nothing against telling you, but not here. I simply don’t desire to linger here any longer than I must. It isn’t ideal.”

Life rarely was, as far as Vergil was concerned, but he was willing to accommodate his request if for no other reason than the fact that after such a long time in the underworld, the scent of sulfurous gas and the presence of ash in the air around them hit far to close to home. He had enjoyed a reprieve from such foul substances for a few weeks now, and he was not at all eager to reintroduce himself to them. Leaving would, in fact, be best for more than one reason.

Very well, then. That is agreeable.” The eldest Son of Sparda said as he turned in the direction that they had come from, somewhat unsurprised to find that he could still see the road from here. The fountain was going to make a wonderful mess of that plaza soon enough, but at least the piece of metal from the demon bull’s fallen weapon had dissipated. The less evidence of their presence here, the better. “But let’s make haste. Something is entirely off about this situation, and I do not desire to be at the mercy of its wrath any longer than I must be.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Sirrus said simply before following the white-haired half-devil in the blue coat. Thankfully they didn’t seem eager to put up much of a fuss about it, and there was a simple explanation for what he had done. Well, at least it was simple for him. Nothing was simple when it came to his life, and this was no exception, but at least it was one of the few questions that he could easily answer that wouldn’t have catastrophic consequences outside of his control.

(-~-)

The walk back had been uneventful and quick, so nothing of any particular note had even a scrap of hope of occurring. Before any of them could even begin to think of where to start or fire up the part of their brain that existed to do critical thinking, they had arrived back at Lucia and Matier’s shared home, and more importantly, at the shared realization that it would be easier to just have this conversation at the house instead of on the way to it.

“Alright then, we’re here. So what’s the deal, then? How are you able to do all that?” Dante asked as he reclined on the couch. Lucia’s place had some very comfortable furniture, and he was more than happy to capitalize on the opportunity to enjoy it. It was nice to sit back and relax a little bit sometimes. “I’m not that good with magic or whatever you’d call that, but I’ve never seen a human use that kind of power.”

Lucia stepped forward as she closed the front door to the living room, allowing the door to close before she spoke. The fewer interruptions, the better. At least as far as she was concerned. And while she knew next to nothing about this stranger, what was going on, it what was even going on in the first place, she did know what he was curious as to what he could do. And if he was willing to explain himself to them, then it was probably best to take him up on his offer and allow him to actually tell them what was going on.

“Perhaps we’re just asking the wrong questions.” She said politely as she entered the living room and found a place to sit. There were a lot more people here than she was used to, but she didn’t particularly mind given the circumstances. In fact, she was almost glad that everyone seemed to be so comfortable in her small home. It was a welcome change of pace. “Maybe it isn’t about how he did that, but more about what he did and what he’d have to be in order to do it.

A soft sigh escaped Sirrus’s lips as he glanced over at her. Yes, she was as smart as she was pretty, wasn’t she? That was good to know. For all he knew, her intellect and perceptive nature might come in handy in the near future. “Your quite right. I’m a member of the Ludwig family through marriage. Or more accurately, through a divorce. Two of them each, actually.” His facial expression changed slightly for a moment as though he were recalling an unpleasant memory. After a moment, he continued despite the fact that something about his demeanor had changed. He was so reserved in the first place that it was hard to pinpoint what had changed, but something had indeed done so. “But regardless, I do not possess the limitations that many of them do in regards to their power as a result. I do apologize for not volunteering to tell you what was going on sooner, but I think you can understand the desire to not expose yourself to those that you do not know, especially you’ve not yet had a reason. I think that everyone like us desires anonymity, privacy, and normality to some degree. I hope you can respect that.”

Dante exhaled and leaned back slightly. Yes. Yes, he did understand that feeling. It was all too familiar to him. While a part of him did in fact still yearn for the possibility of that being true, there was a part of him that knew it wasn’t something he could easily obtain, if at all. More than likely it was a false hope, but he still hoped nonetheless. “Yea, I get that. Makes sense. Keep going?”

Sirrus nodded. “My biological parents are much like yours in that they are two completely different beings that hale from wildly different backgrounds, but I do not feel at all comfortable explaining who either of them is, or saying anything beyond that.” He said, gesturing towards Dante and Vergil respectively, his casual demeanor hiding his underlying anxiety much better than either of them realized. “What I can say is that my power is a direct result of their union. It isn’t a learned skill like it is for the Ludwigs. They are born with an aptitude for learning magic. I was born with inborn gifts. Mine simply differs from yours due to parentage and the fact that I am not what you are, but the principle is still the same. I hope that makes some measure of sense.”

“I understand that in a way,” Lucia interjected, shrugging softly in discomfort as she remembered her origins. It was a difficult subject, and one that she didn’t touch on lightly. After all, she’d spent a while fulling coming to grips with the truth herself. “I can understand why you didn’t say anything. But I don’t think anyone here would have had a problem with that knowledge. I mean, at least I think not.”

Dante shrugged and Vergil made some sort of motion akin to a shrug, but didn’t say anything. Nero and Nico both shared a glance over at V before doing much the same, both of them slightly unnerved by his persistent silence. Was he being affected by the knife again? “Yea, none of us can really say anything. Nico is basically the only totally normal person here. That is, if you can call whatever the hell she has going on “normal.” But she’d human either way.”

Nico punched Nero playfully in the shoulder. “Yea, what this stupid jerk is sayin is pretty much spot on, aside from me being that weird. He’s done some pretty weird crap, so I guess he can say that about himself. But me, I’m just a regular old human who’s along for the ride. If you need any extra weirdness, you’d have to talk to basically anyone else in this room. Well, except Lucia. She seems pretty cool.”

Lucia held her hand up to her face to stifle the slight giggle that she felt coming on. Nico was quite the character from what she could tell. And that was just fine by her. But she still needed to find out what everyone was doing on the island in the first place. It wasn’t that she wasn’t glad to see Dante. What was most certainly not the case now, and she highly doubted that it ever would be. But if she had to guess, she’d be willing to say that he was here for a reason.

Sirrus seemed amused by the young gunsmith’s response. “Your all quite right. I’m simply unaccustomed to being forthcoming about these sorts of things, especially towards people I’ve only recently met. But your kindness is most apreciated. Thank you.”

The lovely redhead nodded and turned towards the rest of the group, making herself comfortable. “Okay. Well, that’s a relief. Now that we’ve had that conversation and everything is sorted out a little better than it was before, I have to ask… what brings you to the island again so soon, Dante?! Last time you were gone quite a while longer than you were this time! I know that the circumstances are vastly different, but my point still stands. Did you just so happen to be in the area and thought you’d stop by to see me again?”

Dante laughed lightly, craning his head to one side. He had indeed missed Lucia in the time that they’d been away, there was no denying it. But unfortunately, there were not there as a lovely leisure retreat. They had work to do. He shook his head to indicate that he was saying no to her question, earning him a bashful but unabashed look from his longtime friend. Truly he washed that he was wrong, but he wasn’t.”

“Not as such. We’ve come to return something to you. At least from what I understand. Venturing all the way out here was Dante’s idea.” Vergil said flatly, not at all in the mood for this kind of friendly banter. When he’d returned after his prolonged absence, he’d nearly been shot down a flight of stairs by Magnolia. And that was to say nothing of his arrival back from the underworld. Dante had received quite the welcome wagon in comparison.

She gave him a curious look as he pointed to the box behind her. As the realization of what it contained kicked in, she gasped quietly, covering her face with her mouth. “That box… what’s supposed to be inside of it is… that’s not supposed to… please tell me it’s empty? Please.” A shake of the head from Nero was all that it took for an almost mournful look to cross her face. “Oh, please forgive me for the trouble! I hate to say it, but I had no idea that it was gone. Some Guardian I am… Either way, thank you for returning it safely back to where it belongs. Do you recall where you found it by any chance? I’d like to investigate. Something this sacred just vanishing without a trace and without my mother or myself noticing is worrisome, to say the least.”

V finally decided to speak up, snapping out of the state of quiet contemplation that he’d previously found himself in. “Oh, I remember precisely where they found that knife. If you look hard enough, I’m almost sure you’d still be able to find my blood on it. But at least it’s been returned to where it belongs now.”

Lucia gave him a sympathetic look as if she understood what he was alluding to. “I’m so sorry to hear that you were hurt. I am glad to see that you are alright. I would be remiss to hear that my inaction lead to your untimely death, much as I am to hear that you were harmed in the first place.” She looked back at the blade again for a moment just in time to miss V turning away to look out of the window, mildly embarrassed by her kind words. He wasn’t accustomed to such kindness. Lucia was truly wonderful. “I will return it to its rightful resting place as soon as I have a chance. And this time, I’ll make sure that all of the traps are turned back on. Not just some of them. But I get the feeling that that isn’t all you need help with?”

Dante shook his head. “No, sorry to say that it isn’t. You up to going on another little trip with me to help out again?

She gave the youngest of Sparda’s two sons a polite smile. “Yes, absolutely.”

(-~-)

I’m suddenly very sleepy, and it’s only 10:58 pm. Maybe it’s just the stormy weather. The entire plate of alfredo I’m about to eat isn’t going to do me any favors, either. Oh well, see you next week! And thanks for checking this chapter out! Now off to the comment section!

#V #Vergil #Dante #Nero #Hiraeth #Post Devil May Cry 5 #Post DMCV #AU #Vitale #DMC AU #Post Devil May Cry 5 AU #Fanfiction #DMC Fanfiction

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alitheamateur · 5 years

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Little Bird

Warnings: Language. And Ronnie Kray, because he’s a warning in himself.

You take great pride in the title of Reggie’s little bird, and you know you’re quite lucky to hold the coveted title. But, when you hear some ladies from Esmerelda’s getting on about you, suddenly you get the pang to prove yourself.

Characters: Reggie/Reader

You absentmindedly snuck a vain peek at your reflection in the glossy, rain-stained rear-window of the car, assuring the presence of lipstick smudges across your toothy smile absent. The square-toe of your block heeled shoes clapped against the rust-colored, slimy cobblestones leading to the rear entrance of Esmeraldas, Ronnie chewing on end of a leafy tobacco cigar to your left. Saturday’s were always particularly busy for your Reggie, so his guidance was needed before the happenings of the evening unfolded, and the doors opened to the public. Whether the much more unsteady Kray liked it or not, he was your ride, and precautionary protection as you headed out into the city, wisping with haste to be at the side of Reg.

Ducking into the smoke-lined, perfume fogged hallway nearest the dressing area, you heard the slagging giggles of the bars burlesque crew. Against Reggie’s every stitch of knowledge relating to the category of business, he had agreed to let Ron have his way & bring in the dancers every other weekend. Between the concoctions of the puffing of his cigar, and the fumes of cheap, rosy mists of perfume, you nearly hocked up the wholeness of your own lung as your eyes seared & wept from sensory overload. Approaching the half-opened door which behind all the commotion lie, you heard the cockney sweetness of your lovers voice.

“Ladies, settle it down now. My Y/N, she ain’t the kind to be up parading around with any likes of this crew. No, no. A sweet, little beautiful bird, ‘at one is.” He reasoned, and replied between inhales of a cigarette. The man would never say a cross, disrespectful word about you, and being his “bird” was actually an occupation you held of great honor. But, in this sense, you felt the title as one of safe, and boring even? And your mind whirled into a million reasons why the ladies would even be using you as a topic of discussion to begin with....

They were all very beautiful, the lot of Esmeralda’s dancers. And most, never gave you trouble, and smiled whether it was genuine or not when you’d greet them in passing latched on to the arm of your Reginald. But, as in every crowd, there were the few who would turn up their noses, and bite back a spitting insult. You could see the thunderous fits of jealousy looming behind their amplified lashes. They’d change that snooty tune had they known how much you admired their near every quality. The acquired execution of the most perfect & effective smolder. The seductive boldness, and the shameless way they had men fumbling & drooling under their spell. But, the deep-rooted envy blinded them when it came to you. They wanted to hang on Reggie’s arm, and have him doting on their beauty morning, noon, and night.

Interrupt before the conversation delve into juicer waters, or linger like a mousy detective in the shadowed hall to eaves drop for your name?

“Reg, the girl is cute & all. But she’s only a girl, love. Is there even a real woman under those aged, up to the neck dresses she’s always wearing? Isn’t she just too.... simple for ya’?” Kitty chimed in, oh so calmly. She was the clubs prized entertainer, if you will. She usually seemed particularly frigid, and downright nasty towards you, so her patronizing insults fell right into character.

Some chirping laughs ensued in behind her cunning little jab, and your eyes caught Ronnie’s lopsided brow. Your personality wasn’t exactly one in the same with the unpredictable, witty likes of your future brother-in-law, but you saw behind the thick rims of his eyeglasses that he hadn’t taken too kindly of your name being slandered in such a way. His own hand nearly lunged toward the gold of the door handle in a boisterous attempt to bust up the bashing assemblage you so clearly had not been invited to, when the cracking racket of a wooden chair scooted brutishly across the concrete floor.

“Let me just stop you right there, yeah? You must be proper fuckin’ barmy to think I’m going to sit here and let you go on a runner about my fiancé like ‘at. I hear you talkin’ like that again, or ya’ so much as think a thought like that about her, and I’ll toss you right back into the cold like Ron found ya’, right? Sound like a plan that?”

Your gangster knight in his custom suit had whisked in with his rotten, threatening, ferociously protective mouth to defend your loving honor, and the sentiment made you fiddle romantically with the gold-banded diamond ring settled around your finger. Reg was the farthest left from lackadaisical when it came to running the cockney streets of the East End. And he held true to those same colors when it related to his mum, Ronnie, and yourself. The holy-trinity of Reginald Kray’s only saving grace.

A brisk blowback of wind from the swinging door gently parted the wispy line of your bangs as Reggie marched into the golden lit hallway where you paced with his twin brother. His slick, sharp jaw flexed with piping hot anger, but he patted gently down the tailored front of his crisp black suit, maintaining composure while reaching for a smoke. Your presence rendered him dumbstruck, and Ron, as usual, took it upon himself to brashly break the ice.

“Sounds like some of the little slags are gettin’ quite comfortable, Reg. If you’d like, I can have a good chat wif’ ‘em, yeah? Make sure they fuckin’ know their place.”

Reggie kissed your pink stained, alabaster cheek, his minty lips rimmed with rich tobacco sticking to your skin.

“Cool it, Ron. It’s alright. No need for the name callin’. Most of them are wonderful ladies, I’m sure.” You defended bashfully. Sure, the unreasoned, spiteful things you had walked in on made your stomach pang with hurt, but you were a woman yourself. So, there was a smidgen of your being that felt it was admirable to defend your fellow sex. No matter how unenthusiastically.

“Ronnie’s right, Y/N. They have no place even speakin’ your name, love. I can only be grateful I’ve found the last women in the entire fuckin’ population of London who’s got some dignity, and grace about her. Sure, they may be good at what they do, but you’re much too beautiful to be trouncin’ about in front of a buncha men like ‘at, dove.”

Beautiful? A mark in the positive column, sure. You couldn’t recollect a single woman you knew who wouldn’t fawn and spit if the legendary Reggie Kray called them such. But, somehow in your fitful mind of paranoia, you couldn’t help but feel as if maybe the man at your side didn’t think you had the tempting, sensual sex-appeal to do what Kitty and her girls did on that stage. Not that you even wanted to to begin with, per say. Suddenly however, your skin crawled with the spiteful urge to prove your man wrong.

He fiddled flirtatiously with the delicate dangle of a pearl pierced through your lobe, smiling that romantic, movie-star smile before he primed his lips to gift you with a kiss. The dangerous scars on his fingers created by his dutiful, hands-on approach to the violent aspect of being an East End gangster tugged and stuck to the embellished sequins around the bodice of your red dress. His lashes extended so far from the lid of his benevolent eyes that they tickled with the ends of your own as your mouth danced into the kiss. Ron’s exasperated coughs and raspy growls of disgust broke the intimacy of the moment.

You broke loose for a breath of unshared air, coughing a bit bashfully at the potency of Reggie’s nicotine you’d sucked in. Ron has seen the two of you fondle and paw each other for years now, but that never quite made you any more comfortable than the time before.

“Get on wif’ it, the pair a’ ya’. I’ll handle the trollops, Reg. Take Y/N inside to the table.” Ronnie shooed you along, fluffing his hands wildly in every direction.

You hoped he wouldn’t be too crass, and well… ‘Ron-like’ with the dancers after what they had gossiped about you. You may need the help from a few of them that you did trust with the conniving plan brewing in your head.

“Go on out, love. I’m going to freshen up a tick. I’ll only be a minute, yeah?” It was urgent you grab a second with the twin of your Kray in secret.

When the hallway fell dark again after the heavy door to the front room of the club latched behind Reggie, and only the stifled chides of the girls crawled from the closed entrance to their dressing area, you ran to Ron’s side.

“I need your help, my second favorite Kray.” You pleaded, and uselessly bat your lashes upward to his stoic face. “Keep your afternoons open for me best ya’ can for the next coupla weeks. I’ve got a little scheme up my sleeve for Reggie and those silly girls.”

He didn’t like it. The plotting behind his dearest friend, and brothers back. But, he trusted you, and loved you nearly as much as Reggie did, in his own little way. So, he only rolled his eyes, and pat the top of your head with a nod.

………………….

“You sure about this, Y/N? I ain’t so sure he’s going to be too keen on it…”

Behind you, Camille, one of Ronnie’s youngest, and most down to earth dancing recruits, slung and tugged on the whip like laces of your black, silky corset. She had assisted you in every aspect of this particular, unusually sunny Saturday. The stockings you pulled over the creamy, fair tones of your petite, curved thighs belonged to her, and she had so graciously lent you the dramatic, teardrop crystal shaded earrings to tie together your fitting ensemble. Amongst the beauty of material gifts she had offered up, the last two weeks Camille clung to your every beckon call on her every minute away from her bakery day-job. Your uncoordinated, wonky lack of skill at first seemed incurable no matter the talent she had in teaching you. Your elbows were tender and purple from your repetitive crashes to the unforgiving, wooden stage.

Ronnie, still very much resenting every aspect of the entire fiasco pouted against the back corner, wordlessly disapproving your every move. He had kept his promise, escorting you stealthily to Esmerelda’s every day around the noon hour so you’d have a way inside the locked club. You used your lunch breaks from behind the jewelry counter where you worked alongside your parents to rehearse your routine with Cami, and Ronnie broke away with Teddy around the same given time. Reggie was unchangingly hesitant any time he didn’t have a chaperoning eye over his sometimes ill-minded brother. But nonetheless, the pair of you were able to keep the entire shenanigan under wraps.

But tonight, was the debut. This wasn’t the scheduled night for dancers, and instead a band was booked for entertainment. But your plans were to blow the roof off the guests, the off-duty hussies who had been very blunt about their perceptions of you, and off your Reg. Your worrisome mind couldn’t sit back idly thinking there was any chances that the man would grow bored of you, and your always graceful, sometimes stuffy persona. You didn’t intend to seem buttoned-up to the collar all the time, but apparently you had some proving of yourself to do.

You swiped a bold trace of velvety red lipstick over the curve of your round lips while Millie, as you addressed her, placed the final pins into the soft curls of hair that tickled down your back.

“You can’t forget this little number, Y/N. You’ll have Reg teased into a fitful mess!” She loosely looped the feathered softness of full, pink boa around your neck, stepping back to admire her handywork.

Over her shoulder, you revered your own foreign reflection in the dusty mirror. To your vain satisfaction, you nearly didn’t recognize the done-up, sensual eyes looking back at you. Kitty would undoubtably eat bitter crow once she laid eyes on your usually hidden luscious curves. And as for your Reg? Well, let’s just see how sweet he thinks his little bird is after all. You felt a glimmering tickle of audacious fire ignite inside your belly. It seemed the lipstick had poisoned you with mischievous sensuality.

“I better get out there next to Reg. Somebody ought to be there when he loses his fuckin’ mind and starts shootin’ every man in the fuckin’ place for makin’ eyes at ya’.”

Ronnie greased back a loose strand of his oiled hair, straightening his tie and once again unbashful with a whine of his objections. You promised him your lips would be sealed to his leading role in the matters behind the scenes when it came to explaining things to Reggie. Ronnie’s circle of trust wasn’t exactly one of open-invitation, so you cherished your seat at his table.

The booked band played a hefty setlist, and you were becoming a fidgeting disaster backstage, afraid somehow you’d be found out. As far as Reg knew, you were tucked away into bed, nursing your ill-stomach and resting for a new day tomorrow. Another little fabrication chalked in your column, and you hoped his forgiveness would be easy to come by.

Alone in the dressing room, you heard the erratic clacks of dainty heels approaching. Two knuckle pats on the door, followed by the sound of a riled Camille.

“Showtime, Y/N. The band is on their last number, and Ron is keyed up for your intro. Are you ready?”

Adjusting the overflowing swell of your bust in the lacy corset, and double-checking the buckle of your patent leather stilettos, you choked hysterically for a deep breath. Sure, to you this was just a dash of innocent, maybe spiteful, fun and entirely harmless. But, would your soon-to-be husband see it that way through his breathtaking, yet jealous and territorial eyes? What was he going to think of your ‘little to the imagination’ attire, and hedonic, calm sway of your hips in front of a room packed with strangers, and even some of his so-called colleagues?

“Y/N, are you in there? We’ve got to get you out there now, dear.”

You quickly remembered Millie’s presence at the questioning muffle of her voice outside your hideaway. It was now, or never and all you could focus on was the slurring insults of Kitty and her gormless crew. Your thoughts went black, and you marched brazenly to make your curtain call.

“Alright, alright you foolish tossers. Before you go home to the wives you don’t love and the children who you barely fuckin’ know, we’ve got one more little piece of pleasure for your evening, right.”

Your teeth chattered with a cold sweat behind the heavy, plush curtain as Ronnie trailed on with his brash nonsense, and a frown of second-guess danced over your red, kissable lips. It wasn’t exactly the way you had hoped he would unveil your calculated surprise for his brother, but he did refer to you as ‘pleasure’ so it wasn’t all bad, right? You could perfectly envision the look of pure worrisome terror of Reggie’s curved brow as his brother rambled unpredictably in front of a room of paying customers.

Suddenly, the rhythmic patter of a tinkling cymbal arose, and the lights dropped to a seductive shade. The opening curtain wafted a chilly breeze over the milky skin of your back, and you could instantly feel the pointed stares of a crowded room without even seeing a single face. It was like the eerie feeling of waking from a dead slumber to the sensation that someone is watching you from the corner. A few erratic whistles from the mostly male gallery ignited at the sight of your barely covered rump accentuated with the airy feathers of the boa Millie had given you.

You stretched to grab the bone of your ankle, painting a tickling hand up the span of your leg deliberately highlighting the display of uncovered flesh. Turning about face toward the viewers, you clamped your eyes shut for a second to purposefully avoid whatever glimmers of disappointment or humiliation lingered upon the face of your Reggie. Peeling back the glimmering shade of your lids, you opened to see a very generous crowd in attendance. Through the smog of smoke from expensive cigarettes, and the unforgiving glare of a spotlight, you allowed yourself only a glance in his direction. It was anger or rage you saw as much as confusion, and wonderment.

Careful not to miss your marks, you playfully pranced around the confines of the thrust stage, pouting and nibbling over your lips. Winding your hands around the tied confines of your soft robe, you pulled loose the knot, letting it fall to the floor as you swayed to the vibrations of a piano. You’d toss a wink here and there, shimmying the handful of your breast towards Teddy as he sat perched and giggling next to Ronnie’s side. If there was anyone you could get away with when it came to some meaningless flirting, surely it was him. Everyone knew he only had loving eyes for Ronnie. Before you settled in for the most risqué minutes of your little number, there was a particular stop you needed to make somewhere in the room.

Arms crossed in her cheaply sewn dress nearest the bars end, Kitty observed you, not hiding her lack of amusement. Her nose crimpled in an ugly snare, you pointed one foot in front of the other, clicking your shiny shoes in her direction. What you really wanted to do, was slam the knife-like point of your heel into her knobby shins, but you wouldn’t dare risk staining the expensive silk of your outfit with her injuries. So instead, you tickled her displeased face with the end of your boa, making it a point to smear her makeup with the tip of your nail, and helped yourself to the swig of champagne she held in a fluted glass with an innocent giggle. The deed pulled a huff of laughter from the patrons sipping on their Guinness mugs, and whiskey tumblers, which only fed the growing monster of your confidence.

The melody of your song was soft, matching your shadowy, languid sways so you could hear the raspy whispers as you explored the floor. You knew by now that Reggie was quite sure who it was trouncing about the lounge of his club, but you wanted to seem like a stranger to him. Like the self-assured, sultry, mystery of a woman he hadn’t had yet the pleasure of meeting.

You weaved through the crowded room ruffling the hair of a few men you recognized as familiar with Reggie and wouldn’t dare ever make a move out of place when it came to you, strictly out of fear. As you neared only a few feet from the man of the hour, you pulled out a secret weapon Millie had taught you, fancying it may give Reggie a laugh. Extending forward to push out your breasts and curve the bow of your back, you knowingly popped the top button of your snug corset. You painted a fabricated look of virtue into your doe eyes, covering the naughty gape of your opening mouth. You pretended to be oh so humiliated by the near malfunction of your dressings, and fell right into the broad lap of Reggie Kray and his polished tuxedo, like a needy mess that needed his valiant rescuing.

He smelled like a heavenly poison of desire and aged liquor when you curled into his lap. You felt the cloud of your fear dissipate when he grinned and chewed on his plump lower lip. You straddled the warmth of his crotch, massaging over his reddening ears as you ground your hips deep into his, and strings of curses and groans escaped him. There was a welcomed twinkle of naughty indulgence in his eyes, and you hungrily welcomed the pleasing forms of so-called ‘punishment’ you may face when he had you locked away inside his flat later. The growing touch of hardness beneath you tickled your fancy apparently as much as you were ticking his.

Gripping tightly to the silk lapel of his jacket, you prepared for your own form of finale. The finale suitable for the public eye, at least. You dipped your head back, letting your torso bend towards the sticky floor, and you felt the scorch of Reggie’s paws on you like feverish vice grips. He was typically the man to keep such lustful exchanges behind private doors, but clearly your new-found brashness rendered him out of control. It was clear by his bruising clutches that he was teetering the edge of sanity.

Slowly, you eased one leg upward, pointing the open-toe of your heel straight as an arrow toward the ceiling. The other, you then curled around the thick length of his neck, releasing your sweaty grips on his coat. You were left dangling around his neck by only the voluptuous squeeze of your thigh around his shoulder. His hitched breaths felt like water and fire with his mouth now perfectly centered to your eager sex, and you wondered if he could smell your desire.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Where ya’ been all his life?” Ronnie joked, sucking back the closest thing he knew to a smile.

Once the music ceased, and your hearty round of applause came to an end, you brought yourself to meet Reggie’s lips, unbothered by the traces of red lipstick you’d leave on his tanned cheeks.

“What was that you said about little bird, love?” You purred menacingly into the crook of his ear, nibbling gingerly for good measure.

“Hold it now, dove,” he wrapped his fingers into the curled ends of your hair securing you close. “You’ll always be my little bird, right. Only now, you’re just my little minx, too.”

A/N: Creds to the always wonderful @torialeysha for her help in pushing me into gear!

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #reggie kray #reggiekray #tom hardy fanfiction #legend #legendfanfic

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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What is your favourite game show to watch? Family Feud. Can you come up with a funny spoonerism? ”nucking futs” is that one? What is the most interesting anagram you can make out of your name? ”Penis” lmao. I’m so mature. What is something that rhymes with the title of the best book you’ve read? I could never just pick one book. In one day, what’s the average number of times you take a sip of something? Oh jeez. I don’t know. I nurse all my drinks, so it’s a very high amount.

How good are you in trivia games? What’s your best category? I suck, but I still enjoy playing them. Would you much rather test your knowledge or share opinions? Meh, I guess test my knowledge...which could be embarrassing. I wouldn’t want to share my opinions cause I keep a lot of my opinions to myself. I don’t want to get into a debate with anyone. Well, I guess it would depend on what I was giving my opinion on. If we could avoid politics and controversial stuff then I’d choose that. How do you feel about word games? I love word games. When it comes to competing, are you more braniac or rather use your brawn? I definitely don’t have brawn, but I’m no braniac either. I just avoid competitions all together--problem solved. Are you a sore winner or a sore loser? Neither. I like a little friendly competition, but that’s all. It’s just all in good fun. Who is your absolute favourite film director? I don’t have one. Have you ever watched the British panel show, Quite Interesting? Nope. I’ve never even heard of it.

How about Richard Osman’s House of Games? I’ve never heard of that either. If you haven’t, you should. Both are most excellent. Nah. When’s the last time had to cover a coworker’s shift? I’ve never had a job. Have you ever had a really unreliable coworker? Have you ever had to have a ring resized? No. What is a question you would never ever ask somebody? Uhh. There’s a lot of things. Definitely not anything too personal or that was a sensitive, uncomfortable topic for them. I’m not one to probe. I can also tell when someone doesn’t want to talk about something. What sounds like a rude word but really isn’t? I’m blanking. Have you ever made a blanket? If so, how did you make one? No. What’s your favourite quote? There’s several that I like, but I don’t have just one particular favorite. How many godparents do you have? Do they care about you? I don’t have any. What is something that should not exist? Abuse. Is there a word you have an emotional connection to? Hmm. How about a sound? Any emotional connection to a sound? Most definitely. Sounds that remind me of someone, a certain place, a special memory, and especially music. Is there something coming up that you are dreading? I’m just hoping January doesn’t feel like 84 years like it usually does for some reason. Ya girl has plans. Do you ever read graphic novels? No. What is the most ridiculous product you have ever seen? Most of the As Seen on TV products, ha. I’ve also been watching this YouTuber who has done a few videos where he buys things on this website, Wish, and it has some of the most random, hideous things on there. Are there any spiders in your home right now? Probably, but I’d really rather not think about that! Jeez. What was the last thing that made you laugh hysterically? I was watching that YouTuber I just mentioned a bit ago and what he was talking about and doing just really struck me as funny. I haven’t laughed that hard in quite a long time. Are there any candy stores where you live? Yeah.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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puppyrogue · 6 years

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//I guess this is a ‘Good Bye’ ?

** THIS MIGHT BE A BIT OVERDRAMATIC (until we know for sure how this is gonna go)... BUT, I JUST WANTED IT TO BE POSTED, JUST IN CASE.**

I live in Europe, and you guys might’ve seen this post flying around..

Which means I might, along with my fellow European role players, have our content deleted...? And won’t be able to see any content from you, either.

So... if/before this happens, I wanted to Thank You All, from the bottom of my heart for following me, interacting with me, having great threads and making wonderful friends through these years. It really means a lot to me and I will remember all of you, forever. And have memories of our times here. (I might save everything, print it out and keep in in a safe lmao WHAT A CRIMINAL)

I’ve role played Axel for about... well, it’s close to 5 years now. It’s insane. It’s been a great ride.. some ups and downs, like everyone has, but happily mostly Amazing times.

Some of you have followed me– we’ve been mutuals since day One. And I just want to say, I love you and thank you for sticking around, even though we might not have played much together, or at all. Just reading each others interactions has been great and you are all doing such a great job, I hope you know that. Be proud of your character, and your work.

I’m really not good with good bye’s... fucking.. separation anxiety. But I’d like to Highlight some people that have been an honor to play with and some that I have absolutely adored just stalked throughout these years. (this is in no particular order, I love each and everyone of you ♥ And I wish I could write something about everyone of you, but... I don’t know if I have time. I might be shut down at any second and this point hah!)

@samscudder – You’re the most amazing artist, amazing writer and story teller. You have an incredible imagination and I hope you continue to use that fantastic mind of yours. You’re a great person, friend. Honest, fair, smart and kind. And you’ve had such patience with me, and the way I’ve portrayed Axel. When it’s not have been nowhere near Canon, you’ve been OK with that, or given me feedback to help and you’ve taught me a lot of things I didn’t know, you’ve helped me and answered the most stupid questions, and I just fucking love you. ♥

@roguette-skater – We started playing pretty early in my DC Comics years, when I had just started to read the Flash comics and fell in love with the Rogues, and Axel. I was impatient and made a rp blog without having enough knowledge about this little brat, but you were fine with it. And for that, I’m very very grateful. I was new to OC’s but reading your character Louise, I was just amazed by her and instead of having her and Axel ‘meet for the first time’, went with that they had basically grown up together. I regret nothing. It’s an amazing sibling relationship and I thank you for creating such a wonderful character. And thank you for letting me play with you. ♥

@i-still-quote-twain – I want to, of course, Thank you as well for letting me play with you. And apologize for have bothering you so much with my damn obsession that is Mark/Axel. Also thank you for it. The artwork you created of them is my absolute favorite piece and I want to thank you for tagging me in it. It means a lot that you took some of your time and energy to draw it. I didn’t even know that you were, but it was hiiiiighly appreciated and thank you thank you thank you. It’s been an amazing time, and amazing, funny, emotional threads we’ve had and I have adored every single one. I hope you have too! ♥

@perfectedrobin – Dan.. Dan, dan, dan... I don’t know what more to say than a sincere Fuck You.

Hahaha!

Nah, You are like... I don’t remember how we started talking, but when we did, we just clicked. That sounds so romantic wtf. hey if I get a dick will u date me

I love the “hateful”-playful-sarcastic-friendship kind of thing.. and we have that. (Or maybe you do hate me. The fuck do I know.) But anyway, Damian and Axel. The hell is all that about. It all started with a joke, and then the joke became more of a joke and it became a hot fucking joke. I love it. It’s not what I usually like for Ax, him having his fucking Daddy Kink and all.. but Damian and Axel, their impossible fantastic duo, as ..friends??? and two dudes, opposite side of law and morals, but still not that different at all, working together... it’s perfect. It’s been a fucking pleasure, man. ♥

@exrogue – Bells, the Shane to my Ryan. Digger couldn’t have been portrayed this well by anyone else, in my mind. Holy fuck, dude. Your writing and your portray of the damn drunk is A+ in every category and when we first started writing together, I was a nervous wreck, but you turned out to be just as strange of a fellow as I am and boiiiii we need to hang someday. I’ll come down, alright. We should do some ghost hunting, bruh. Wheeze around a little bit. We should bring @i-still-quote-twain as well. Unsolved Fan, there too. It’d be great. And you could laugh at me being the more ridiculous kind of Ryan than Ryan. Imagine that. Anyways... Thank you for putting up with my shit ♥

@one-rogue-army – Gosh, your writing and your character and amazing development of him and mine! It’s been such a great time writing with you. A lot of Ax’s character development has been thanks to Tony, and I’m really glad you wanted to play with me. Humor and Angst, it’s two of my favorites, and you’ve given me both! Don’t ever change, because you are one of the kindest people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. ♥ @mamasbvy – Yo, yo, yooooo... Boii, have I loved playing with you... I wouldn’t have dreamed of Axel getting some actual loving and from someone who truly means his best. I am absolutely stunned by your character and I wish he was real, because damn, son. D a n g. Thank you, for everything. These two has it all, and that is exactly what they need. Your writing is inspiring and I hope you keep it up, because it really pulls you in to the story. I will love this ship and carve it into the wood of my own casket. Wow that’s bizarre but I love you, and again thank you ♥

@queryxecho – THE MOMS TO MY BOY. You’ve given me such jooooooooy to play Axel and to have him play son around your girls. He has really appreciated their help, toys, their caring and scolding, everything. And I have really appreciated chatting with you, having great times and discussed important and not so important things in life. It’s been amazing. You are amazing. ♥

– Now, like I said, I can’t write down a Love Confession Letter to each and everyone of you, but I am just as happy, grateful and honored to have seen you guys on my dash, and written with you and stalked your blogs with a heart eyes emoji face. Thank you. Thank you and Thank you so much for giving me these memories.

♥ such babes ♥

@flashgotthis @darkmeditation @justakansasboy @fasterthansupes @fastestboyalive @impawsiblegar @tinytrickster @thisisntaruba @mr-riddler @promiisekept @legionrunner @blxckisblxck @atlantisking @aquarad @elextrospeed @erogues @aequitcs @blowhardking @comiiics @chosexearth @corvidamned @dawnofspeed @dcficit @dcnouncepcnguin @foolish-pleasure @goldieglider @greenlizardboy @halfspeeds @impulsiveycuth @jester-of-genocide @junglebcrn @lucklessprincess @lessthanmortal @nctaredshirt @rudolphwest @reluctant-reflection @redxeyedxmonster @sclsticed @speedyarrowed @smallspooky @strsmore @titansinmycrosshairs @theredwonder @weather-warlock @yellowskinnedwackyman @young-justice-newbies I apologize so much if I have forgotten anyone, I follow many blogs, and so many of you have multiple blogs, too and you fricckkiinn confuse me btchez. I have only tagged one of your blogs, though, I hope that is ok ♥

Again, Thank you... ♥ I hope things will get better and I, together with the rest that this concerns, will be able to come back someday.

Have a great life and do what you dream of doing! Don’t let people bring you down, and if they do, climb the fuck up again, baby! ♥

See ya’ later, Snuggle Bugs! ♥

– Fox out ~

#oocshit #long post #gosh there's a lot of hearts #gross #!!! Important !!!

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longsightmyth · 6 years

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Chapter-by-chapter, The Naming, Chapter 12

PELLINOR

My love for the innkeeping couple continues.

“She’s a quiet one, your wife, eh?” said Halifax, shrugging his shoulder in Maerad’s direction.

“She don’t like strangers that well,” said Cadvan. “She’s sociable enough on her own.”

“Well, there’s some as never shut up, so I guess it’s swings and roundabouts.” Halifax rolled his eyes comically, and Marta [his wife] kicked him under the table.

“I know who doesn’t shut up around here,” she said comfortably.

I appreciate that Halifax is clearly joking and that Marta is clearly unfazed and willing to point out to strangers that she knows who’s the real chatterbox around here, and both are presented as having a longstanding cheery argument.

All of this is about to change though, because Maerad and Cadvan are nearing the boundaries of Innail Fesse. They bid farewell to the innkeeping couple (Marta packs them lunch) and start riding. After a while a raven comes down to join them carrying a message from Silvia. In these books, ravens are some of the few animals that can make themselves understood without the Speech, so Maerad can understand Lord Kargan when he tells them that Silvia wanted them to know that two hulls entered Innail and Dernhil is dead. Cadvan asks if Silvia is sure they were hulls, and Kargan says definitely.

“Lord Kargan,” [Cadvan] said. “You have already done much, but I seek your help still. We need to pass through Innail Let, and I know not if the Dark has gathered its spies there. It may be that it is yet unwatched, because they think we are still at Innail. I would be grateful if you could fly there and tell me what you see.”

Kargan agrees. After he flies off, Maerad starts to freak out because Dernhil is dead and because people are now actively chasing her. She doesn’t say anything for a bit though as they ride, and it’s Cadvan who finally says, “Alas, he was my friend, and I loved him, and this is a grievous loss.”

Maerad agrees, and says that she didn’t know Dernhil long but he was her friend too, and remembers her dream. She tells Cadvan about it, and how she didn’t know for sure it was Dernhil that she heard but it seems pretty clear now.

“I spoke of you with Dernhil, Maerad,” [Cadvan] said. “I know he loved you. He was one of those who can see clearly into another’s soul, and his feelings were true. Such things have little to do with brevity of meeting. And in that lies our hope: for the Dark understands nothing of love. And if, as it seems almost certain, the hulls sought news of you, maybe his love protected you as nothing else could.”

The soul in question was sixteen, but I approve of the sentiment. As a bonus, we know where I was at least encouraged in my love of commas (Throne of Glass could take some pointers from Pellinor for the elevated language schtick).

Maerad is sad some more, and so is Cadvan. He talks about Bards being able to kill themselves without weapons if necessary.

“It is unutterably terrible,” said Cadvan at last, “to hope that Dernhil killed himself rather than be murdered by those evil beings; yet that is what I hope.”

Yikes.

Kargan returns and reports that the way is clear for now. Cadvan thanks him, and Kargan leaves to report to Silvia that Maerad and Cadvan are alive and kicking. They continue to ride until they eventually find a Bardhome. They take care of their horses, and Maerad complains of stiffness and soreness from riding all day every day. Cadvan tells her she’ll get used to it soon but has her stand in front of him and “passed his hands around her body without touching her.” Maerad feels better, if still slightly sore and tired.

They set up camp and eat dinner, and Cadvan tells Maerad more about the Speech at her prompting, specifically how you never know when you come into it and Maerad isn’t weird for not being able to understand it yet. We get a cute little anecdote about when Cadvan started to understand the Speech (he was about five years old) and a fish spoke to him. We also learn that neither of Cadvan’s parents were Bards. He talks about the different divisions of Barding (there are three broad categories), which are called The Arts: the Reading, the Making, and the Tending. Reading is what most people think of as magic, though it does include actual reading. Making is exactly what it sounds like plus playing music and dancing and writing and stuff. Tending is “knowledge of growing, husbandry, forestry, childcraft, wilding, herbs, healing, bird lore” etc. There are debates about where particular acts sometimes fall on the scale, but Cadvan gives no fucks about that sort of thing. Cadvan and Dernhil practice Reading the most, and Malgorn and Silvia Tending. “…a Bard who counts power and learning as the highest skill, refusing to understand how all of the Arts inform and nourish each other, is a poor Bard.”

Cadvan makes a lament for Dernhil.

“Sweet fall the rains on the mountains of Innail

Leaping like children down through the pinewoods

With voices of ice like melodious laughter

Seeking the harping of Dernhil of Gent.

But he cannot hear them, his music is ended.

Where has he gone? His chamber is empty

And bright are the tears in the high halls of Oron

Where once he stepped lightly, singing deep secrets

Out of the heart-vault and into the open.

Dark are the Gates that opened and beckoned

And closed on his steps, in the gray twilight fading,

Folding in silence the weft of his barding.

No more will he sing in the glory of autumn

Gilding the birches of lowen and Braneua:

The groves of Ileadh will wait him in vain.

He enters the meadows of music no longer

To gather us with mirth-sheaves and harvests of pleasure.

His harp is unstrung, his sweet voice is silenced:

Sad now are the streams in the Valley of Innail.”

He fell silent, and then he covered his face with his hands and wept.

Maerad cries too, and they grieve quietly for a while.

Then they have a discussion involving fault: earlier Maerad said it was her fault because Dernhil was teaching her, and Cadvan told her obviously not. Now Cadvan feels guilty for asking Dernhil to teach Maerad. Maerad says that that’s stupid, because Dernhil did know, and also that, as Cadvan told her earlier, it isn’t either of their faults that there is evil in the world. Cadvan says that all Dernhil knew about her was that she was Cadvan’s pupil, and Maerad remembers that she hasn’t shown Cadvan the bit of prophecy Dernhil found for her. Cadvan says to hide it: “I am not certain that we shouldn’t burn it, but I wish Nelac to see it.”

Cadvan is basically like ‘welp this proves it, you’re the foretold” and Maerad sort of scrambles around trying to justify why she’s not, including her name not being Elednor (the truename of the foretold, which means fire lily). Cadvan points out that she won’t know her truename until after she’s instated as a full Bard, argument invalid.

“What if I’m not? What if you’ve got it all wrong? What then?”

Cadvan shrugged. “As I said before, then I am simply wrong.”

He muses that the Dark might now know for sure, and that that makes this whole thing even more dangerous, but he wonders if they knew before or after trying to break into Dernhil’s mind.

“Dernhil would not have betrayed us,” said Maerad uncertainly.

…”it is not a question of betrayal,” said Cadvan. “You don’t know…” A spasm of pain passed over his face, and for a while he was silent.

More Mysterious Past hints. Come on Cadvan, fess up! He continues that the hulls would have wanted to use Dernhil as a spy if they could get into his mind, not kill him, and a murder in the school has brought so much attention that the hulls probably can’t stay, since even hulls would have trouble with Bards like Malgorn or Oron actively hunting them. I personally would rather face Oron or Malgorn than Silvia if she thinks somebody is trying to hurt Maerad, but sure, book.

“I think it is likely,” said Cadvan at last, “that Dernhil killed himself so they could not enter his mind, and I think it is not only my hope speaking.” he shuddered. “Believe me, Maerad, there are many worse things than death.”

We learn more about hulls when Maerad asks. They were Bards, but turned to the Dark to try to live forever and/or get more power. They can be killed, but they don’t die of old age. They can pass as mortals if they work at it because they still have Bardic gifts.

[Cadvan] fell silent, looking into his own memories, and then spoke with a vehement anger that took Maerad aback. “I hate them. They betray everything that makes us what we are, and destroy everything that is worthy of love. I hate them more than the Nameless One himself.”

Note to self: Cadvan’s backstory likely involves hull trauma.

Maerad starts thinking about all the Bards she’s never known and whether or not they might be hulls, and starts to worry that nobody can be trusted, “but she remembered Silvia and Dernhil and Malgorn, and Cadvan himself, and quietened her fears.”

You’re missing Saliman, Maerad. He seems like a key component given future events. Just saying.

She falls asleep afraid anyway.

THRONE OF GLASS

Chapter 24 so I didn’t land three pages into the next chapter. Celaena can’t sleep and talks about the moonlight and how night doesn’t mean anything to her, and then goes on about how “it was just the time when she slept, the time when she stalked and killed, the time when the stars emerged with glittering beauty and made her feel wonderfully small and insignificant.”

That seems pretty meaningful to me but I am but a simple fanfic writer, untutored in the ways of high fantasy or YA lit.

That was sarcasm, for those unsure.

Celaena was too lazy to change out of her old fashioned dress (actual words from the text, not me being judgy for once, and also I am hardly the one to judge based on clothing changing). She looks up to see a tapestry blowing and after a moment of investigation realizes it’s because there is a secret door behind it.

Y’all, they put an assassin in a room with secret passages that are found after like three minutes of investigation. Either somebody in charge of room assignments wants people dead, or everyone here is incompetent.

I genuinely wish we had murderous steward on our hands.

Celaena exercises some caution when going exploring, which on the one hand I applaud - nobody wants to get lost in the deep dark of an ancient castle - but on the other hand, didn’t she know exactly where she was going from counting steps and noticing corridors in the first chapter when she had never been in the building before while blindfolded? Why doesn’t she utilize that ability now? Also she has a prince and a captain of the guard popping in and out of her room like there’s a revolving door with an ‘Open - free cookies’ sign on it, so shouldn’t she be worried about discovery?

Celaena held the candle aloft, her cape trailing behind her, leaving a clean wake on the dust-covered stairs.

Y’all. This behavior is excusable in an inexperienced sneaker, but in someone who is supposedly the best assassin in the land this is just sad.

She reaches the end of one passage and realizes it’s probably an escape route for the king and leads to a waterway with a rusted iron gate and rotting boats, which begs so many questions I don’t know where to start. She can see trees and stuff outside and considers escaping through the gate, but she slips while climbing around and freaks out. She goes back and takes a different turn, whose passage she follows to spy holes overlooking the great hall and the Samhuinn feast. Celaena is indignant that the other champions are allowed to attend and she isn’t, and honestly so am I. If they’re worried about Celaena the Braggy Assassin in company, they should be doubly worried about the people who have actually murdered people. They do appear to have left Cain in his room, though.

She spots Dorian and decides she’s just happy to see his “unusual grace, and the kindness in his eyes”.

Stop trying to make me like Dorian, book, I am never going to like Dorian. You can tell me about the kindness in his eyes all you want but until I see that shit backed up with action and him considering women aside from our protagonist to be human beings it ain’t gonna fly.

EXHIBIT NUMBER UNCOUNTED: he enters Celaena’s room without permission to watch her sleep after she’s returned and gone to sleep. I thought we all agreed this was bullshit after Twilight, y’all, why is it still showing up? Why are we still considering Dorian a good guy when he routinely uses the literal power of life and death he has over this woman to show up in her private space without permission and watch her sleep? Y’all. Come on.

Chaol kicks him out, which would get him points except he then chills in Celaena’s room considering whether or not she’s a virgin and watches her sleep for a minute. At least he wakes her up when he approaches the bed? But it’s not on purpose? Y’all, he came by to drop off a ring from the party favors for her, he couldn’t have just waited until morning when he could fucking knock? I hate everyone. Chaol throws another blanket over her and leaves.

COMPARISON

Well Cadvan was basically tailor-made for us, wasn’t he? Mysterious Past, hot, respectful, badass, in touch with his emotions… too bad he’s in his seventies. ANYWAY. I appreciate that Pellinor has people in touch with their emotions being a good thing, and I appreciate that affection and cordial teasing are shown to be hallmarks of a good relationship, thank you innkeeping couple. Other things I appreciate about Pellinor: we’re actually sad about Dernhil. He had an effect on the narrative and an effect on our characters, and he’s on the Ride or Die squad with Silvia, only thankfully Silvia is still in the riding part of it.

In Pellinor this was a lot of exposition relayed in dialogue, but it was interwoven with a discussion of Dernhil and gives us more hits of Cadvan’s Mysterious Past, which obviously involves hulls. Cadvan really doesn’t like them, y’all. Also I appreciated that it was a Tending Bard that was mentioned as being too much for hulls to handle, while a Reading Bard was not. It helpfully underlines the fact that the Arts are in fact equal even if Cadvan is a Reading Bard and we have no idea wtf Maerad is. I’m guessing Indik is a Making Bard (because I don’t actually remember if that’s ever explicitly stated) and he is also later proven to be hardcore. So many books and/or movies pay lip service to everything being equally important while only showing one school/art to be actually effective, and Pellinor actually shows that it’s true even in small ways. I like that. (I also like that later Silvia is acknowledged as Super Hard Core, but I think we have to wait until The Singing to see exactly how hard core our ride or die team mom is. Bad with a sword or a spell she is not.)

I appreciate nothing about Throne of Glass this chapter, not even a single solitary second. There are six purple tabs marking general displays of incompetence in this chapter and a short pondering of virginity that made me angry. Fuck off, Chaol. Dorian can fuck off even harder, jesus christ on a pogo stick.

STATS

Throne of Glass:

Pages: 11

Fragments: 16

Em-Dashes: 32

Ellipses: 10

Pellinor:

Pages: 18

Fragments: 3

Em-Dashes: 3

Ellipses: 15

#myth reads The Books of Pellinor #myth reads The Naming #myth rags on throne of glass #myth reads

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