#tome of isolation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purityonice · 5 months

Text

BROZONE NSFW HEADCANONS!!

Requested? yeah :)

🥽 JOHN DORY

He’s the strongest out of the five brothers due to all the hiking and stuff so he can definitely hold you mid air while fucking you.

Doesn’t know where the clit is-

Cronic masterbaiter. 🧍🏽‍♀️Has busted to pictures of you even if its an innocent one.

S L O P P Y S E X. Brotha likes it messy.

He prefers to be the dominant one in bed watching you squirm underneath him, His breath jagged, bitting his bottem lip as you anchor yourself holding onto his arms that are gripping the sheets on each side of your head.

But when he’s submissive he loves when you get rough. Grabbing him by the neck as you ride him. His chest rising and falling as you bounce your heat on his member. Making yourself cum as you use him how you want.

He’s LIKE REALLY GOOD WITH HIS FINGERS dispite not knowing where the clit is and not having much experience since he spent 20 years hiking the neverglade trail with Rhonda. He’s just got natrual talent i guess after you tell him where your bean is located… :D

John Dory likes when you get needy, making you sit on the floor between his legs as he slowly sips on his coffee. Not breaking any eye contact as you wait ‘patiently’ the heat of his bulge in your face as he forces himself from taking you right then and there.

He’s really sexually frustrated and pent up from years of isolation so expect him to come to you with a bulge in his pants begging for you to help him. But if you goto him for help he will make sure to make you melt before he actually does anything.

He may be good with his hands but he’s inexperienced with actual sex so you’ll have to help him out to make you feel good.

🏖️ BRUCE

He’s a laid back guy likes laid back sex with so much responsibility he doesn’t have much time to make love with you so he likes taking his tome with you.

After a long day at work he will come up behind you putting his face into the crook of your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. His soft body pressed against your back as the outline of his bulge rubs against your ass while he sways with you.

He is very experienced when it comes to sex, He was the Heart throbe so he could get any girl he wanted. He knows how to drive you crazy and listens to you to help you feel good. definitely knows where the clit is HAHA

He’s a big boy!! so he likes taking you from the back or while you’re ontop of him because he’s scared he’s going to crush you if your underneath him. [Unless you really want to he wont hesitate to give his pretty girl what she wants :) ;)]

He’s not as much of a tease as JD but he still likes to make you flustered. While your working he will come back from taking orders to see your back facing him. Caually walking past you giving you a quick peck on the forehead whispering what he’s going to do to you tonight before shoving the orders into your hands and walking off.

He’s into quickies with 13 kids and a restaurant to run he’s a busy busy man with a busy busy life so when he has the time he will take you into the store room of the diner and take you the and there. Leaving the store room disheveled as he walked off giving you a quick kiss before strutting off to take more orders.

Master pussy eater! Very good with his mouth doesn’t need you to tell him where to go or do he just knows.

He has a high sex drive EXAMPLE your 13 kids together.

Bruces fav place to cum is inside of you because he doesn’t want to get up to clean the sheets so its the best option in his opinion.

He is a biter…

📗 CLAY

He knows where the clit is definitely read up on it. Knows more about your body than you do.

Definitely practices safe sex always has a rubber in his drawer or brings one (or a few) with him to yours whenever he’s in the mood. Wrapping his arms around you before pulling out the condom from his pocket his eyes dark as he pulls you closer.

Clay does not let you go while your getting intimate. Constantly has an arm or both wrapped around you.

He’s gentle in bed loves when your gripping onto him wrapping your legs around his waist that threatened to not let him go. His dick dipping in and out of you as you scratch his back.

Acts like he doesn’t into kinky stuff but when you ask him to wrap a hand around your neck, or you bite and scratch at his skin he sees stars.

Don’t expect sex everyday this man is busy! and isn’t the one to have a quicky so expect sex once every two weeks. but its worth the wait :D

Clay loves looking at your face when you guys get intimate shoving a few fingers into your mouth as he rocks you. Denying he ever did that afterwards as you explain in detail what happened the night before making his face and ears burn.

Gets embarrassed about how into sex he is. Always melting while inside you after a few weeks of celibacy constantly muttering how tight and warm you are. His mouth agape as his body shakes while inside of you threatening to bottem out right then and there.

he’s not as good with this fingers as JD but he still knows his way around your body. Asking if it feels good his eyes stuck on your body as your back is pressed against his chest, your legs spread wide with Clays fingers jammed into your heat. Both of your chest heaving from the heat and pleasure as he pulls you into a wet kiss.

[Silly] Clay looks in the mirror in the morning after touching his marks and bites feeling his ego grow at the amount of them. Flexing in the mirror pretending to be nonchalant while talking to non-existent trolls about how he got them. Gets really embarrassed if you catch him.

He’s an accidental tease he will do things that make you go crazy that he doesn’t think twice about, until at the end of the day your practically begging for him to take you while he stares in confusion about what could’ve brang this on.

💎🩷 FLOYD

This may be a bit OOC im sorry if it is.

Gentlemen in the streets and a freak in the sheets. can’t tell me otherwise.

I headcanon that Floyd stayed at Volcano rock for a few years before leaving to go back home and getting kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer. So he definitely has a crazy side to him.

He is a complete sweetie pie making sure you feel safe and comfortable before absolutely destorying you. Giving you flowers and coaxing you towards the bedroom throwing you on the bed before pouncing on you.

Floyd is the most experienced out of his brothers charming men and women while on his solo career. So he definitely knows a thing or two about how to make someone go crazy.

Floyd loves leaving marks and bites on you, wtaching you wake up in the morning sore in his shirt his marks decorating your shoulders, neck, collar bone and chest as you get up to have some breakfast.

He also loves his marks that you give him, he doesn’t wear a shirt so he’s often flaunting them around weither he wants to or not. He sometimes gets embarrassed if there is an excessive amount wearing a loose fitting shirt to hide them.

Floyd also practices safe sex but he doesn’t do it often as Clay but more than Bruce and JD. When you guys get intimate he forgets to grab one in the spur of the moment.

Desipite being a freak he loves to make sure you’re okay. Breathless as he asks you if you feel good or if he’s doing alright as he grinds his hips into you. Smiling innocently as you can barely create a thought in your head.

Floyd loves when you wrap your legs around hus waist as he thrusts into you. The adrenaline of cumming inside you without any protection really gets him going.

Loves when your on your back and he leans his body over you, his hand gripping onto the headboard as he pounds into you like a madman. [Sowwy this was for my pleasure]

Definitely a tease, he looks so innocent on the outside so no one notices that your blush isn’tfrom cute romatic whispering but actually what hes going to do to you when he gets you alone.

THATS ALL BROS 💙💜💚🩷

263 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 19 days

Note

Hi!

Thanks for your hard work keeping your system organized! Really helps during my 3AM reading sessions lol.

I was wondering if there are any “and there was only one bed” fanfics for Aziracrow? Thanks!

We have #there was only one bed and #sharing a bed tags, so take a look at those! Here are some more to add...

Away by HopeCoppice (G)

They can command reservations at the Ritz at a moment's notice. They can perform miracles, or the demonic equivalent, for- well, for Somebody's sake. There is absolutely no way that they should ever be able to find themselves in a situation where there is only one bed. And yet.

Welcome to the Petty Party by Mimsynims (E)

Oh fuck. It was him. Crowley tried to make himself smaller where he was sitting in the back of the Greyhound bus. It had been almost a year - and another continent - since he last saw him, but there was no mistaking that blonde fluff of hair or those strong shoulders on the man entering the bus. It was Aziraphale. Fortunately there were very few other passengers, and Aziraphale chose a seat in the middle of the bus, sitting down without spotting Crowley further in the back. Seeing him now catapulted him back in time, to that fateful night in Birmingham - the one and only time they’d met. Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves stranded in a motel for the night - sharing a room. Last time they met, they spent the night together. Now they are both - wrongfully - convinced that the other never wanted more than a one night stand. (Basically, this is a "there was only one bed" PWP)

Warmth by HolyCatsAndRabbits (E)

The excitement of spending a day traveling with Crowley had turned to deep embarrassment. Rather than a flight followed by a late dinner somewhere and then a night apart, Aziraphale was cold, wet, hungry, and injured, in the wrong city, and facing a night sharing a room with his secret crush in which there was only one bed. And— Aziraphale looked down at what he was holding. Flannel pajamas, tartan ones. He was going to have to go back out there and face the ever-elegant Crowley in his night clothes.

No Such Thing As An Omen by FeralTuxedo (E)

On a snowy New Year’s Eve, rock star Anthony Crowley arrives at Tadfield Manor Hotel to check into his room. Under a fake name, naturally. But to his dismay, it has already been claimed, and the deceptively angelic impostor with the audacity to have stolen Crowley’s alias as well as his room doesn’t appear to want to vacate it any time soon.

Romancing The Tome by Anti_kate (E)

Romance novelist Aziraphale Wilder is pulled from his carefully ordered life when his sister is kidnapped and held to ransom. With the help of antiquities forger Anthony J Crowley, he braves the wilds of Scotland to rescue her and keep a priceless book from falling into the hands of dangerous book thieves.

Waking Up Slow by the_moonmoth (E)

“Then you’ll just have to come back with me," Aziraphale said. “You what?” “You’ll have to come and isolate with me, at my cottage.” The thing about messing with people, Crowley thought, was that sometimes, they genuinely surprised you. After both being exposed to coronavirus, total strangers Crowley and Aziraphale are forced to wait out their isolation together. A tale of soft winter romance by the sea.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #adult omens #there was only one bed #sharing a bed #mod d

141 notes · View notes

tomezatos · 1 year

Text

so like basically in the REIGEN manga tome tries so desperately to throw herself into the center of this literal Superhuman world she sees and play the role of the eager young protagonist and its so endearing but in the end reigen has to come clean and she can’t keep using the spiritual premise as a crutch. not because she was wrong to have her whimsical interests, but because the fantasy of specialness can often be an escape from the isolation a person feels due to being unable to live up to societal ideals of normalcy, and yet in the end the fantasy can itself end up feeding directly into the isolation by obscuring your view of the other people in your life. you cannot prioritize the idea of being unique or special alone and that is the reason that the power structures in the story (as represented by roshuuto in REIGEN) so frequently fail short; because actually EVERYONE is a Pathetic Freak Weirdo Nerd Loser, from the handsome, popular rich boy, to the pretentious Dark!Reigen foil who takes himself too seriously, to all of the mundane teenage girls who the audience is initially tricked into dismissing as shallow, but also by the same token EVERYONE deserves to be loved and feel supported.

because actually bonds with other people are the most important thing, and centrally this is also why REIGEN relies so heavily on bonds with others as something to create horror. the evil spirit mimics the voices of the ones you love and lures you in and when you’re at your most lost and scared and in need, that’s when you turn around and the face of the person you trust betrays you. tome only contracts the fatal curse in the first place because she cared about reigen and went back to make amends with him. because that’s the most horrifying, most terrifying thing, the thing that renders you absolutely helpless, isn’t it? it’s letting yourself rely on others and trust them to the point that it leaves you vulnerable, isn’t it? but you have to do it, if you want to achieve true connection then you can’t continue keeping up a veneer of Specialness and posturing as someone you’re not no matter how afraid you are of being seen as your true self. that’s the idea that really connects tome and reigen above all else. you have to be who you really are and you have to trust that you’ll be loved for it. and that’s horrifying! that’s an unimaginable, Forbidden terror! but it’s necessary.

and also I think it’s so clever how REIGEN conveys this by only bringing in shigeo kageyama, the protagonist and most recognizable character who the reader has so many preconceived notions of, in at the last moment as a terrifying ghost who is impersonating him. I mean also it’s partially because shigeo can easily be made to look scary lol, because let’s be real, he can be pretty goddamn scary /hj BUT MOSTLY it’s to have him in his uniform, in his most recognizable and iconic form that the reader will cling to, and then have it be blown away by the post-canon shigeo, the real shigeo, the shigeo who has grown and changed and is no longer stuck in the role he once was. because to be vulnerable with others you have to grow and change and do away with old pretenses and dynamics that you’ve become dependent on. it can be scary to stop playing roles after you’ve grown use to them for so long, but you don’t need them - your most honest self will be the most loved. and also I love how just like tome could tell that it was the real reigen bcause he immediately ran into a spiderweb and yelled, you can tell that it’s the real shigeo because he’s immediately rude as fuck and he and reigen literally instantly go into their mean pithy little affectionate banter lol ok sorry anyway.

and also because you cannot really be any more or less special than anyone else and you need bonds with others, it’s true both that you have to rely on other people, but also that you owe it to them to be kind. reigen is literally a normal person working in the spirit business, so he has to rely on other people with the necessary abilities, such as dimple the spirit and serizawa the psychic, yes, but he also does his part to take care of the people who matter to him. roshuuto is so focused on appearances and power - as shown by how he goes on and on about connections - but when it comes down to it, he was not willing to save others (leaving hoshido in Reliance), and so nobody bothered trying to save him in turn. he only abandoned, and was abandoned. this is shown most acutely in the end by how roshuuto “has no other option” but to pass his curse on to someone else to save himself, while reigen “has no other option” to take on a curse to save someone else. reigen and serizawa accepting their responsibility as adults to protect the children around them is an extension of the idea that you are equal to everyone and are obligated to be kind to your loved ones and recieve kindness in turn. anyway mutual trust and communication is all that matters and tome kurata is The protagonist of all time Sorry,

#reigen manga #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mine #reigen spoilers #tome #reigen #shigeo #roshuuto #long post #REALLY LONG POST IM SO SORRY and its not even good analysis its just word vomit im #my dad bought me a copy of REIGEN for valentines and I reread it all in one sitting I feel stark raving mad rn

1K notes · View notes

metalhoops · 10 months

Text

Read Part 1 Here

As small and unassuming as Eddie’s trailer was to others, it had always been his fortress. It was the last stronghold against the forces of evil, and the bastion of all things metal and macabre. It wasn’t much, but it was undoubtedly his. When you grew up with little, you clung to what you had.

He’d come to Wayne’s at an age when the world had begun to haemorrhage magic, leaving a realm devoid of colour in its place. His uncle worked hard to stoke the flames of his creativity, buying or borrowing what he could to keep Eddie’s dreams of castles and kingdoms alive.

He’d spent a small lifetime buried in tomes of fantasy and mythology. He’d whiled away afternoons flicking through books that let him choose the story, always managing to die before finding the right ending. As a child whose mother died young, it was nice to live in a world where death could be undone.

Eddie managed to cling on to that last spark of childlike wonder into his early twenties. His childhood had been a landscape inhospitable for the companionships of knights and the trickery of wizards, yet he’d made it work. That kind of alchemy didn’t fade easily.

Yet, with Chrissy’s death tainting his memories of the trailer, he understood his fortress, his kingdom, was nothing but rubble and blighted soil. He was Frodo, returning to The Shire after the destruction of the ring. Eddie’s Undying Lands came in the form of a small bungalow on the edge of town, paid for with government hush money.

The place wasn’t much larger than the trailer, yet it felt vast in the late hours of the night when Wayne was working and Eddie was alone. They’d only been in the house a week. He still felt as though he were in hostile territory. He sat on his bedroom floor with the curtains half-drawn.

He’d spent the past half hour drawing them open before pulling them shut. If they were shut, the place looked deserted. People would be less likely to try to peer in, but he wouldn’t be able to see if someone or something was coming. If he left the curtains open, people would be able to see in. Eddie told himself he was being paranoid until he watched a pair of headlights flicker in the distance down the isolated road.

Eddie was quick to action, darting into the entrance as a knock sounded on the front door. He grabbed a box cutter from the pile of unpacked boxes and peeked through the keyhole. You could never be too cautious, not when half the town thought you were a murderer.

Standing in the doorway was Steve Harrington, the former king of their ever-changing kingdom, looking lost and worse for wear. His hair, a Harrington point of pride, as good to Steve as a crown to a king, was a sodden bird's nest perched atop his head. Though that wasn’t all. One of his arms hung naked at his side. Steve hadn’t managed to pull it through his polo, leaving half his skin exposed, the other half covered in poorly wrapped bandages.

They’d both been hurt by the hoard of bats, but Steve's injuries eclipsed Eddie’s. Something about that fact sat wrong with him. It was as though he’d stumbled upon a wrong ending. He wanted to turn back and find a story where Steve was safe. Eddie dropped his makeshift weapon and swung open the door.

“Steve? Christ man, you’ve seen better days,” Eddie spoke, ushering Steve inside, locking the door behind him.

“I’ve had worse.”

Steve, like Eddie, appeared changed from what’d happened to them. He hadn’t known how to explain it. Most of what he knew about Steve Harrington was mythology, a collection of stories which changed depending on the teller. Yet, all those close to him, far closer to him than Eddie, had agreed something about him had changed. This Steve was a broken bone set wrong. Something about him always appeared to ache.

Buckley had hauled up in the Harrington manor with him after they were released from hospital, helping tend to his wounds and wash his perfect hair. She’d confided in Eddie when he had come to check up on Steve that he was forgetting things.

Perhaps forgetting wasn’t the right word. Robin spoke five languages, yet she couldn’t find the term to describe what was going on with Steve. He seemed out of place, like a sour note in a once sweet melody.

Maybe it was one concussion too many, Robin had justified, which was a collection of stories shrouded in contention. How many concussions had Steve had? Nancy swore Jonathan hadn’t hurt Steve badly during their fight. He’d been able to run away, after all. Jonathan admitted he probably had.

The kids all agreed Steve was knocked out cold after his fight with Billy while Robin recounted what’d happened in Starcourt. She’d later confess Steve had other concussions before Jonathan, though wouldn’t elaborate on their origin. Some stories only hurt the teller. Eddie had learnt how to read negative space. Occam’s razor told them it was the easiest explanation, but to Robin and Eddie, it didn’t feel like the right one.

Steve talked about things that’d happened weeks ago as if they’d occurred to someone in another life. Then there was the way he looked and spoke to Eddie. Every time he’d show up at the Harrington’s front stoop, Steve would look at him as though he’d risen from the dead, shook off the grave dirt and stumbled back into his life.

He had the feeling Steve was always seconds away from telling him something important, but he too, didn’t seem to have the language to convey it. When they stood together in silence, as they did that night in Eddie’s new fortress, he felt as though he almost understood.

“What brings you to my humble abode, Harrington?” Eddie asked, trying to keep his eyes from Steve’s exposed side.

“Mostly pride,” Steve admitted with a humourless laugh, ushering to his side, inviting Eddie to look. He did.

“I told Rob to go home for the night and uh...” Steve cringed as he tried to lift his hand up to pull it through his sleeve. Eddie stepped closer without meaning to.

“Shit, hold still. Don’t rip your stitches again or Buckley’ll hand my ass to me on a silver platter,” Eddie grumbled. His hand twitched, wanting to touch. Steve took a step forward, inviting him to. Eddie hesitantly brushed his fingers over the gauze, examining the bandages.

“When did you last change these?”

“Two days ago,” Steve admitted, leaning against the wall, trying to keep his balance. Eddie cursed under his breath, grabbed Steve by the wrist, and guided him to the bathroom.

“You don’t have to change ‘em. They’re pretty gross,” Steve protested.

“Which is exactly why I have to change them,” Eddie argued as he help Steve slide onto the bathroom countertop beside the sink.

“I’ll get Robin to do it tomorrow. She didn’t throw up after dissecting a frog in junior bio.” Eddie groaned and scrubbed his face with his hand.

“Didn’t know that was public knowledge, great.”

“Not many people knew. I just... we were in biology together.” Eddie knew they weren’t.

He knew every class he’d had with Steve Harrington, much to his chagrin. They’d had gym, history, and Spanish together. Like shiny plastic to a crow or jewels to a dragon, Steve always managed to capture Eddie’s attention. He’d like to blame it on the fact he found Steve attractive, but there were a handful of other hot jocks who made Eddie want to shove his hand in a blender. Steve had always been different to him, though he’d managed to keep his affections close to his chest. It’d never do him any good.

Steve had a habit of rewriting their mythology. Eddie had noticed him doing it often as a way of explaining away little things he’d have no right knowing, by fabricating new pasts. That was a piece of Steve’s new persona, which was reserved only for Eddie.

He wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. He liked Steve. Hell, the more the two got to know one another, the more Eddie thought he could love Steve, but their relationship felt like an empty hallway in a horror film. It was devoid of any real threat, but it felt as though something was lurking just out of view.

Eddie blamed his feelings of love for the strange gravity between them. Occam’s razor. He wanted to kiss Steve. He didn’t know what Steve wanted. That caused tension.

“Why did you come here? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Stevie. The door’s always open,” Eddie said as he peeled back the bandage.

He felt Steve stiffen and moved one hand to rest on the boy’s thigh. Steve’s hand covered his, lacing their fingers together and surprising Eddie. He tried not to look too closely at the wound. He found their first-aid kit and got to work, squeezing Steve’s thigh each time he pulled the bandaged taught.

“I miss you,” Steve said, once more sounding seconds from another confession Eddie knew wouldn’t come.

“I haven’t gone anywhere, dude. I saw you yesterday.”

Steve muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like,

‘I used to see you every day.’

Another past that’d never happened. A reinvention. To make matters worse, Eddie wanted to believe in that past. He wanted Steve to tell him their story, the one that lived only inside his head. Eddie would follow it. He’d do anything to stop the boy from looking so lost.

“Can I do something weird?” Steve asked, and all Eddie could do was nod.

Steve hooked his arm around Eddie’s neck, pulled the boy into the space between his dangling legs, and buried his face in Eddie’s hair. Steve’s hands balled into tight fists in Eddie’s shirt fabric, holding him so close he felt his bones creak like wooden floorboards underfoot.

“You don’t have to miss me, sweetheart. I’m right here,” Eddie assured, feeling the need to do something, say something to make everything better. Steve’s grip tightened.

“Do you ever feel like we’ve been here before?” Steve spoke, his voice muffled by Eddie’s skin.

He knew the answer Steve wanted. He couldn’t in good conscience give it to him.

“No,” Eddie confessed.

“But I wish we had.”

Steve pulled back so the two could get a better look at one another. Unable to help himself, Eddie leaned forward, trying to smooth down his hair.

“When you were seven, you scraped your knee so badly you walked with a limp for half a year and ever since you’ve hated the sight of blood,” Steve spoke, not daring to look at Eddie.

He felt his whole body go stiff. His hand in Steve’s hair froze. He was right, but Eddie couldn’t understand how he knew. He’d moved to Hawkins when he was twelve. His life before that was a mystery to the town.

“How?” Eddie began, but Steve wasn’t finished.

“You do that thing when you’re nervous. Yes, that thing you’re doing with your hair,” Steve observed. Eddie had taken a string of hair between his thumb and forefinger and half hidden behind it.

“And when you’re flirting,” Steve amended. Eddie’s brows drew together.

“Which you do with me, a lot. Took me forever to work out that’s what you were doing but give me enough time and a good enough thump to the head and I’ll realise it, eventually.”

Steve knew Eddie liked him. Shit.

“Took me even longer to realise I liked you too, but everything’s kind of screwed now, isn’t it?” Steve asked, his humourless, dry laugh coming back.

“Because every time I’m with you, I miss you. And I know that makes no goddamn sense, but I do.”

Eddie tried to unpick what Steve’s words meant, but he kept coming up short. Steve liked him. That much Eddie gathered. It was enough to send his stomach plummeting into his boots.

“Tell me what you’ve gotta tell me, Steve. I’m a big boy. I can handle it. Get some of that damn weight off your shoulders,” Eddie mumbled, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder and rubbing circles into the spot as though to prove a point. Instead, Steve looked at him with a crooked grin and uttered,

��Like Atlas, right?” He hadn’t picked Steve as a mythology geek. Eddie felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as though he were seconds away from putting it all together.

“We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we?”

“Not exactly, but almost.”

“Then why the hell don’t I remember it?” Eddie questioned, his voice growing strained.

“I don’t know. You never do. It doesn’t matter, it’s over.”

“What’s over Steve?”

“I’d ask you if you really want to know, but the answer is always yes,” He grumbled, nudging his face against Eddie’s hand.

Steve took a deep breath and told Eddie everything. He spoke about Eddie’s death, about being stuck in the same day for hundreds of repetitions. He told stories of Eddie’s death while brushing over similar terrors. Eddie knew he was getting a sanitised version of the tale, but still, he understood why the boy was haunted. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he were in Steve’s place.

Stories, where death could be undone with a simple flick of the page and another binary decision, were easy. In practice, with hundreds of little choices and thousands of ways things could go wrong, it seemed more akin to a nightmare.

“When you said you missed me,” Eddie breathed after a moment.

“Which version of me do you miss?” Steve’s brows pinched together, looking as though he’d been asking himself the same question.

“I don’t know. I think, shit. I think I miss a version of you that never existed. If that makes sense. I miss what I thought we could’ve been when everything was over. You’re alive. I’m alive. It was supposed to be easy after that.”

Eddie gave the boy a sad smile and nodded. To Steve, trapped in a never-ending cycle, Eddie had been his kingdom. He’d been a land to defend and a safe haven to return to. Yet, he’d wanted himself to be the same wide-eyed hero who’d left the empire, not the jaded veteran who’d returned home from war. They could never be the uncomplicated love story Steve had told himself to get through the days, but that didn’t have to mean things were ruined.

“Hey, Stevie? What’s your favourite movie?” Eddie spoke, causing Steve to really look at him for the first time since they’d started speaking of other timelines and death.

“Star Wars... The one with the teddy bears. Why?” Eddie got a goofy grin on his face, wondering how the hell someone who’d had the reputation Steve once had could love something as nerdy as Star Wars.

“You know a damn lot about me. Time we even the goddamn playing field.” Steve nodded and gnawed on his bottom lip. His eyes trailed down to Eddie’s lips. He didn’t have to know Steve well to know what he was getting at.

“Can I kiss you?” He questioned, his hand already tangling in Eddie’s hair.

His thumb ghosted over the space between his ear and jaw that always made his breath hitch. Steve knew how Eddie liked to be touched. That was a new revelation.

“We’ve kissed before, haven’t we?” Eddie questioned, Steve’s breath hot against his face.

“I haven’t kissed this version of you before,” Steve supplied with a smug grin.

“No fucking fair. You have the hometown advantage,” Eddie reasoned, and Steve let out a shocked laugh, a real one this time.

“You’ve never made a sports reference before.”

“So they’re surprises in me yet,” Eddie beamed, sick of the anticipation, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

The kiss was long and desperate. Steve clung to him, kissing him breathlessly, making Eddie weak at the knees. They had to pause when Steve let out a sharp inhale as Eddie accidentally grabbed his still-healing side. He muttered a slew of apologies, peppering Steve’s neck and jaw with kisses. He hadn’t shaved in days and Eddie felt a good kind of ache from the scrape of stubble against his jaw.

When they finally pulled apart, the two looked decidedly more dishevelled. Eddie caught his breath and whispered,

“You know, I’ve got Return of the Jedi on tape in a box someplace. You could stay over and we could... I don’t know, re-get to know each other,” Eddie proposed.

“I like the sound of that.”

#steddie ficlet #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #time loop au #stranger things #fic #ficlet #multipost fic #drabble #a #again based on a post by #@theamazingbard #back by popular demand #metalhoops writes

491 notes · View notes

brewstersbru · 6 months

Text

Got inspired so enjoy some bloodweave!!! <333

“What are you reading?”

Astarion jumps a little at the suddenness of the question, he’d been reading, alone, for hours now and had assumed all of his companions to be asleep. It seems he had erred in his assumption, as Gale peers at him, squinting in the dark. Astarion sighs, burdened.

“What could you possibly need from me, wizard? Shouldn’t you be cuddled up, all snug in your bedroll?” Gale laughs a little, strained and careful, but continues his approach. Astarion rolls his eyes, snaps his book shut with a decisive whack, and sets it aside.

“Couldn’t sleep. And I see you reading every night, it’s only natural that I’ve wondered what genre of tome could possibly enrapture you so, a man normally much too aloof for anything to grasp onto.”

His voice carries a kind of smug tilt to it, like he’s trying to tease but is too sincere of a man for it to come out as anything other than a collection of awkward observations. Astarion returns a more practiced smirk.

“Mmm. I see.” The words rumble and slur together into something almost animalistic, Astarion’s not quite sure what overtakes him, in this moment, but there’s a kind of vulnerability to Gale. A soft belly upturned to the world, a rabbit twitching its nose but refusing to run.

As a predator- a hunter, at times- Astarion is well practiced in spotting and pouncing on these vulnerabilities. He smiles toothily.

“So you’ve been watching me?”

And Gale? Well, Gale laughs. Quiet, but boisterous and chortling. He shakes his head.

“Did that really work on people?” He continues to laugh. Astarion draws his brows, puzzled. He hadn’t intentionally been trying to draw him in, but in hindsight that’s probably what it looked like. After years of honeypotting, his purr and growl are often one and the same. Astarion allows himself a small smile, but stows it as soon as Gale draws close enough to bathe in the candlelight.

Silence hangs for a moment.

“It’s a romance novel. Drivel, really, but I’m not one to be picky.”

Gale hums and inclines his head towards the book. “May I take a look?” Astarion nods and shuffles to the side, “Please, be my guest. Fair warning, though, it will rot your brains.”

A laugh then, as Gale settles next to- but notably far enough to not touch- Astarion on the rug he’d pilfered from some poor sap’s home. It’s quiet, again, as the wizard flips his way through the pages of the book. It’s clear from the quick dart of his gaze that he’s not really reading it, just scanning the most interesting parts. Astarion waits quietly, a state quite unnatural to him but that feels right in the muted intimacy of the moment. He watches the way Gale’s eyes change as he reads, bright, always, but with intermittent flashes of surprise, and mirth. It’s not a bad look on him. Astarion refrains from mentioning that.

“Well,” Gale sighs heartily and gently places the book back where it had been sitting, “that was quite possibly the worst thing I’ve ever read. I mean really, her ‘evil’ orc boyfriend who ‘changes’ for her and shuns his entire family for the sake of their union? And don’t get me started on the more intimate scenes, if I ever read the word “member” again I think I’ll-“

Astarion can’t help himself, he bursts into a tight, brief set of giggles before hunching over himself. By refusing to look up, he misses the pure glee and adoration in Gale’s expression. Astarion shakes his head.

“Gods, you’re right. It’s horrid, isn’t it?”

Gale nods, somber, “Detestable. Truly, you have found no other books to occupy yourself with? I would argue this,” he points at the book with an accusing finger, “does more harm than good. You’d be better off simply not reading.”

Astarion shakes his head; something about the low candlelight, the relative isolation of his tent and the illusion of privacy it offers- it makes him want to be open, honest. To show his soft belly to someone who’s just trusted him with theirs.

“I- well- I would normally throw this wretched thing in the river.” He waves a dismissive hand in the book’s general direction. “It’s just, well, before I never had much time to read frivolous things like this. What with all of the screaming and agonizing and seducing I needed to do.” Astarion laughs a small, humorless giggle at himself, “It’s nice just to be able to sit in the warmth of the sun- when it’s actually daylight of course- and read. Even if it is mindless drivel like this.”

Gale hums, more to himself than anything, but eventually his eyes catch on Astarion’s, something warm and mischievous glinting within. “Do you trust me?”

Now it’s Astarion’s turn to laugh. “About as far as I can throw you, wizard. Which is to say I would pass out before I did.” He gestures to the thin wiry ropes of muscle that wrap around his bicep. Gale gives him another soft laugh.

“That’s fair, I suppose. Will you do me a favor then, and come with me for a moment? Leave the book.” As he speaks, Gale rises from the rug, knees giving twin creaks as he straightens. He winces at himself and smiles something small and self-deprecating.

Astarion, equal parts dubious and curious stands with him. “Well now I have to know. Lead on, wizard.”

“It’s Gale, you know.” Gale comments, as they begin walking back towards the circling of tents a bit closer to the campfire. Astarion huffs. “I know.”

He lets the silence settle, and sit for a bit.

Gale chuckles and shakes his head, “Yeah I suppose I should have guessed that’s what you’d say.”

It’s not long before they come upon Gale’s own tent and the wizard opens the flap, disappearing inside. Astarion waits near the entrance for a couple of minutes before Gale’s head- hair adorably unkempt and still squinting into the darkness- pops out to usher him in. “Thought you didn’t need an invitation to enter anymore? Or is the tadpole’s magic so limited?”

Astarion rolls his eyes and smacks lightheartedly at his head as he ducks inside. “You’re such a little shit!” Said shit only grins and returns to… whatever the hell he’d been doing.

The inside of his tent is almost impossibly spacious but Astarion guesses that has something to do with being a wizard. There are scrolls and ink pots just kind of lying around but the chaos is rather cozy. The largest thing in the tent, however, is the absolute leviathan of a bookcase off to the right, which Gale is now rummaging through, muttering to himself.

“Romance… Romance… Wait, does he even- ASTARION- oh you’re right here, perfect, do you even like romances? What’s your preferred genre?” There’s an urgency to his words and movements but it’s not frantic. Rather quite the opposite actually, he looks more at home here and now than Astarion thinks he’s ever seen him.

“Oh- uh- well, darling, I’m not quite sure. It’s been a while. I do think I’ve always enjoyed romance when it’s- well- good.” Gale nods decisively and returns to his task, a man on a mission. Astarion tries not to notice how sweet he is, how sweet the whole situation is, really. He’s just appreciative of the arts, can’t go around letting people besmirch its name with nonsense like this stupid book or anything.

“Aha! Here-“ Gale lifts a rather thick tome from the shelf, it’s got quite an ornate cover- a mix of dark blue with gold embossing- and he shakes it like he’s just found a particularly useful scroll, “it’s an enemies to lovers epic surrounding two clerics- one of shar and the other of selune- and their struggles with their respective faiths and the adventure they embark upon.” His smile is almost blinding in its intensity and Astarion finds he has to look away. Has to squash this warmth fluttering in his gut.

“Did you just read that from the summary?” He’d tried for a snarky sneer, but all that came out was genuine curiosity. How many times would one have to read something to be able to recite its summary from memory like that? Although, Gale’s always been quite bright.

“Not at all. I’ve read this enough times I could probably recite the first chapter from memory!” Gale’s still smiling but there’s something strained and uncomfortable to it that makes Astarion unreasonably unhappy. He thinks for a moment.

“Would you? Darling, my eyes were just starting to hurt from the prattling prose of that hack of an author, they could use a bit of rest… Would you mind terribly getting me started?” His face had just seemed so puppy-like, so eager to share his interest in this piece of fiction that even the thought of implying that that was bad or annoying or at all anything but hopelessly charming was… well… unthinkable. As a reward for his kindness, Gale absolutely beams at him.

“I would be honored, my friend! But first-“ With a snap of his fingers all of the candles snuff out, leaving the two of them in complete and utter darkness.

“Uh, Gale, dear, as much as I do enjoy good mood lighting I don’t think you’ll be able to actually read in-“ Before Astarion can finish speaking, a bright, almost blinding orb of light materializes in the palm of Gale’s hand. He gestures to his right and the orb moves itself into the corner of the tent.

Blinking, Astarion notices the comfortable warmth seeping into his skin from the rays of light the orb is emitting. He grins over at Gale, who had already been looking at him, furrow of trepidation between his brows.

“You mentioned you liked to read in sunlight, and, well, it’s not like either of us is going to sleep tonight, right?” His smile is more sheepish, this time.

Part of Astarion wants to cry, part of him wants to kiss Gale on his pretty mouth, part of him wants to destroy this tent and all of the books in it.

He decides to sit. Gale joins him after a moment. He reclines himself on the pillows that line the other man’s bedroll and then rolls himself into his lap. Gale simply huffs, mutters something about “Tara” and situates the book in his hand in such a way that allows for his other hand to card through Astarion’s hair.

Astarion really does cry, now, but the tears are silent and Gale graciously pretends not to see them.

“The moon cannot shine on it’s own. Each night the sun caresses its cheek, granting its light and we are able to watch this act of love from a distance…”

They fall asleep, or rather, Gale does. In the midst of a sentence his daylight spell blinks out of existence and he kind of slumps in on himself, hands going lax. Astarion is only able to catch him and the book because of his almost impossible dexterity.

Astarion huffs a ghost of a giggle at him, but carefully bookmarks the page, sets the book aside, and tucks the wizard in. He sleeps like a rock, it seems, because even with all of the jostling he remains steadfastly unconscious.

After a moment of gazing and contemplating at Gale’s relaxed face, Astarion uses one of the many available inkwells and quills and scribbles out a short note.

Had a great time tonight, darling. Let’s do it again sometime, I’m aching to know if Shenra and Kaye actually kill each other.

He doesn’t kiss Gale’s forehead as he leaves but the thought crosses his mind, and he regrets not doing it when he reaches his own tent.

Damned wizard. Damned Gale.

#bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #bloodweave #astarion x gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #cringefail bfs #i love them sm #both of their love langs are acts of service but also neither of them can receive aos well #no idea how long this is but oh well

286 notes · View notes

lajadelmira · 9 months

Text

✨Antares✨

A mysterious and enigmatic old wizard whose magic is intimately connected to the celestial realm. Throughout his life, Antares has fostered a profound affinity for the stars, drawing inspiration and power from the constellations that adorn the night sky. This deep connection is duly reflected in the intricate and potent spells he weaves.

Seeking solace and solitude in his pursuit of cosmic knowledge, Antares retreats to the solitude of one of the highest towers in Archimorter's castle. Within its walls, he spends countless hours engrossed in ancient tomes and scrolls, delving into the secrets of the universe. With each passing day, his understanding of the cosmos deepens, and he becomes a wellspring of astronomical wisdom.

His dedication to the study of the cosmic plane has bestowed upon him a unique gift, the occasional ability to glimpse fragments of the future in his dreams. However, interpreting these prophetic visions is a daunting task, for the arcane symbols and enigmatic flashes of insight often elude him. Though he yearns to unravel the future's mysteries, Antares is acutely aware of the fallibility of his interpretations.

Antares is known for his unpredictable temperament and aloof nature, which further isolates him from the world around him. His moody disposition, coupled with a tendency towards meanness, serves to repel those who would interrupt his studies or waste his precious time. He lashes out with sharp insults, rebuffing the efforts of anyone who dares to disrupt his solitary pursuit of knowledge.

The wizard's preference for solitude is driven by a deep-seated fear that those who grow close to him could be manipulated or used against him. Scarred by past betrayals, Antares guards his heart and distances himself from emotional attachments. He remains acutely aware of the vulnerability that comes with intimacy, choosing instead to keep the company of the celestial bodies that illuminate his nights.

With his inscrutable demeanor and unwavering dedication to his craft, Antares stands as a formidable figure within the wizarding community. Yet, beneath the gruff exterior, there lies a spark of curiosity and a yearning for connection, waiting to be kindled by those who prove themselves worthy of his trust.

#my art #character design #oc #artists on tumblr #sketch #humanoid #original character #my oc #terato #monster fucker #Humanoid #Humanoide #monster lovers #creature design #mythical creatures #demon #wizard #art

389 notes · View notes

em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 13 days

Text

Theory: The Connection Between Dragons and Valyrians in A Song of Ice and Fire

Okay, so this isn't a new theory by any means, but I'm into it and I wanted to record it somewhere so I could go back to it purely for my fanfiction writing purposes. I will be making reference to these ideas in my writing, so this isn't really anything more than an infodump for myself for what is essentially medieval smut masquerading as intellectualism.

The question on everyone's minds: why are Valyrians unique? What gives them the ability to ride dragons? Their appearance? Why the obsession with incest? And dragons - where did they come from? Why is there such a clear link between this subset of people and the occurrence of the giant winged firebreather?

I'm going to try to articulate my theory that ties some of the lingering questions together into a cohesive hypothesis. Stay tuned. Keep in mind, none of this is particularly profound or innovative, so please don't presume any motivation for this other than what I've explicitly stated; but I need a place to put it all or it'll keep swirling in my head.

Note: this commentary accepts and incorporates the show's decision to characterise Daenerys Targaryen as being immune to fire. Don't like, don't engage.

How might this theory be communicated in fanfiction?

The narratorial vehicle I'm using to at least partially convey this theory in-universe is Blood and Fire, a "fragmentary, anonymous, blood-soaked tome containing information about dragons", "sometimes called The Death of Dragons". It features in one of my chapters, in which my MC is gifted it by Daemon Targaryen - the ultimate intent is to have this reverted to the Citadel by the time Robert's Rebellion occurs. Though my MC will not understand the entirety of its contents, as I'm going to suggest that it's written in a proto-Valyrian language or thereabouts, what is going to be implied is information regarding the creation (and therefore destruction) of dragons.

The theory: centuries of magically-augmented atrocities in artificial selection

My theory is that ancient bloodmages conducted a series of magical experiments designed to create the ultimate supremacist society - to what end, I'm still fleshing out. I presume it'll be linked to the prophecy of the Prince Who Was Promised, and the imperative to begin constructing supernatural lineages that will contribute to the creation of the Azor Ahai figure. I may end up extrapolating on this at a later time. In regards to the experiments: I'm implying stuff like cannibalism, mutilation, bestiality, all sorts of fundamentally unnatural atrocities that are designed to subvert the natural order to use that power as a springboard for the genesis of new species.

Essentially, I posit that dragons are a cross between firewyrms and wyverns using blood magic; but in hand with this, Valyrian people are an artificial subspecies of human designed to preside over these draconic creatures, all in the name of building a civilisation with these creations at the spearhead.

I think it is likely that the first species interbreeding between firewyrms and wyverns were then mated to these Valyrian shepherds. I believe there were further interbreeding events from this common ancestor that streamlined into two distinct lineages; proto-dragons and proto-humanoid Valyrians. Of course, this involves a great deal of magic to MAKE happen, because I don't foresee these acts as being capable of producing fertile offspring in isolation. I think this might've been assisted by other rituals involving the aforementioned cannibalism, blood swapping (as in literally forcing draconic blood into human veins and vice versa etc.), and other atrocities. Crimes against nature require crimes against nature, and all that. Over time, the Valyrian humanoid became recognisably and functionally human, with notable elements in appearance that make them seem unearthly or otherworldly; concurrently, dragons are bred to be larger and larger, to be more responsive to commands, and such. It is also possible that further DNA was interchanged through other cross-breeding events to enhance certain draconic traits in the Valyrian humanoid, in line with the evolution of the 'modern' Valyrian dragon.

The geographical origin of dragons

I believe that these experiments were conducted firstly in the Shadow Lands of Asshai - explaining the existence of ancient dragon bones and eggs, or at least bones and eggs that appear of draconic ancestry - and then later moved in and around the Fourteen Flames, the "volcanic area" of the Valyrian peninsula. But of course, this gives rise to a potential discrepancy in historical data: namely, that dragons are said to have existed long before the origin of Valyria. I think this was the case, but that this doesn't necessarily refute the idea that dragons were a blood magic experiment planned concurrently with the creation of a dragonriding people.

Dragons feature in stories from the Age of Heroes, occurring from roughly 10,000+ years before Aegon's Conquest to anywhere between 6,000 and 2,000 years before the Conquest. I think that, owing to the lifespan of dragons and the degree of time it would take to produce a self-reproducing, self-sustaining, large enough specimen to 'complete' the experiment, it stands to reason that this blood magic project would have at least taken several thousand years to achieve, if not more. This isn't a hundred-year task; this is a long haul. It also stands to reason that specimens would have been released for 'testing' purposes, to see how they perform in the wild. This would perhaps explain how dragons are seen in Westeros, in Ib, and in Sothoryos - these may have been the proto-dragons created along the timeline of magical experimentation. Once released, it conceivably might have been difficult to have them returned, and so these proto-dragons were able to spread to other continents. I think these dragons would have been isolated events; as in, not the product of wild populations reproducing. At this stage, I believe this was not something the species would have been capable of. It is possible, though, that offshoot/s capable of reproduction might have unwittingly been created, resulting in a separate lineage loosely related to the deliberate construction of the Valyrian dragon.

Asshai seems to have the most concrete claim to the origin of dragons out of all creation myths; ancient eggs and bones are present in this land. The Asshai creation myth even supports my suppositions here, as it is claimed that "an unnamed people first tamed these dragons, brought them to Valyria, and taught the Valyrians their arts before departing from the annals of history". It is possible this is a reinterpretation of the notion that bloodmages begun their experiments here and relocated to Valyria later on.

Given the historical anecdotes made of wyverns, it is likely that procuring wyvern stock was not an impossible task for continental Essos. However, firewyrms are said to have originated specifically at the site of the Fourteen Flames, perhaps serving as an explanation as to why experimentation was ultimately shifted here. Furthermore, it seems possible that ancient bloodmages may have harnessed the fire from the volcanic chain to fuel and amplify their dragon creations, hence the movement. It may even be likely that the Fourteen Flames are a source of magical power in and of itself, given that it is noted in-universe by GRRM that there is something otherworldly and strange about them. It seems likely that the fires from this volcanic region were used to fuel the spells and rituals that created dragons and early Valyrians. Fire and blood.

When experimentation was finally complete and two races prepared to act out what may have been a deliberately crafted 'origin', the Valyrian peninsula would have been perceived as the best bet based on magical properties of the site and convenience. And thus came the immortal tale of how the Valyrians, "originally a community of shepherds", "discovered dragons" and "tamed the mighty beasts" before "establishing the city of Valyria and becoming skilled in both magic and metallurgy." The Valyrians even "told tales of themselves that claimed they were descended from dragons, and were kin to the ones they now controlled", further suggesting that this theory holds weight.

Why would this theory hold validity?

Again, I'm leaning into a tie with the Azor Ahai prophecy. I'm not sure how specifically, but that'll come in time I suppose. I may as well assume that there might have been existing political tensions with ancient civilisations, impelling a subset of bloodmages to take matters into their own hands and attempt to engineer an overthrowal effort. They might have even just decided "fuck it, let's see what we can do in the name of magic and science." It is even possible they were attempting to engineer some kind of great good or evil to appease a higher power; i.e. a desire to satisfy a benevolent or evil god for the purposes of religious devotion.

What world-building benefits does this have?

It serves as an explanation as to why some Targaryens in the showverse are fireproof. Namely, Daenerys Targaryen. If dragon genetics are in Valyrian ancestry - dragons being firebreathing and thus necessarily immune to flame - then it stands to reason that this particular trait expresses itself in the human bloodline.

It addresses the emphasis on Valyrian blood being a prerequisite to innate dragon-riding ability, save for magical intervention i.e. the Dragonbinder horn. Valyrians have shared DNA tied by blood magic and likely a ritualistic breeding of genes that call for a dragon's obedience to their humanoid overlords.

It answers how some Targaryen fetuses are birthed possessing dragon-like features, e.g. the scaled bodies or presence of wings. There is latent dragon DNA in Valyrians, and also possibly the expression of the abominable nature inherent to their bloodline.

It supports the existing preoccupation with incest (likely simply an imperative to keep Valyrian breeding strictly within dragon-riding populations before the Doom) in the Targaryen line. The bloodline must keep a large enough quota of dragon DNA to prevent it from being bred out, necessary for dominion over the dragons.

Dragons are intelligent creatures that can understand commands given to them. If human DNA is present, this helps account for these qualities.

Implications for the readers

There is a discomfort at play here, namely in that discussions of selective breeding and eugenics imply that there is an element of superiority in people of Valyrian descent. I too am uncomfortable with the idea that the ability to master a dragon requires belonging to a specific group of people in order to succeed at this. Assigning someone's ability to perform any action to an inherited quality rather than a practiced skill or individual determination goes against pretty much everything I and others believe about the way the world works. Essentially, this theory largely suggests that success is earned based on bloodline or connection rather than personal merit. And I do agree that this is a valid conclusion to make. But I would like to interrogate what this therefore means in the larger narrative at play in ASOIAF.

Firstly, ASOIAF is a subversive text; it is written in a way that challenges traditional fantasy tropes and even our own values as readers. I would argue that the incorporation of a theory such as the above serves to add further to this trend established by GRRM, thereby enriching any inclusion of this in a fanmade derivative of his work (i.e. fanfiction).

Secondly - what happens to Valyrians? What happens to the dragons? Do they 'succeed'? In short, no. The Doom wipes out the vast majority of this civilisation, including the dragons. What is left dies out within a half-millenia following the Doom. The dangerous thing about believing in one's innate supremacy is that they forget how tenuous that hold on power and dominance is. That, I feel, is a central theme to this theory and to ASOIAF at large. The Targaryens were so entrenched in their own arrogance, their own perceptions of 'purity' and dominion, that they failed as dragon-riders, as rulers, as representatives of a dying people, as humans. There are barely any who perceive them as anything other than monsters by the time we begin Game of Thrones. Putting all this effort into reinforcing some sort of species superiority only makes the fall all the more ironic. It serves as a reminder that you can move heaven and earth to make power, but you won't keep it for power's sake. There was no point to any of it - making the dragons, making the Valyrians, any of it. It was doomed to fail from the start because people always forget that you cannot win on the basis of 'blood purity' or 'dynastic lineages'. You demonstrate why you deserve to be a leader.

Thirdly - Nettles. I want to speak on Nettles specifically, as she's a character in Fire & Blood I love a lot and I'm getting increasingly nervous about the way some people are going to react when she arrives in House of the Dragon. Many people are attracted to Nettles's character because she's a distinct diversion from the Valyrian supremacy narrative. I agree. I also happen to think that this diversion is more powerful if one considers that Nettles isn't entirely separate from this narrative, but that she works within it to fundamentally alter what it means. Nettles is described as a dragonseed; dragonseeds are explicitly identified as being of Valyrian descent. Nettles is also common-born, brown-skinned, and notably different from the other dragonseeds. She claims Sheepstealer, a vicious dragon unclaimable by any other Valyrian or dragonseed, and she does this because she is arguably in a position to understand him the best - she befriends him by bringing him a slaughtered sheep each morning, appealing to his instincts and satisfying his need for sustenance. As a girl who'd only ever experienced the worst of humanity growing up, I believe she sees Sheepstealer and the way he lashed out at the world and simply did what she wishes someone would've done for her. Given her food. Given her space. Given her appreciation, free of obligations or transaction. She claims Sheepstealer; she manages to have Daemon Targaryen to fall for her (I don't believe they were platonic at all, nor that she deliberately 'enticed' him - I think he was just INTO HER and I support it); she alone escapes the fate of most dragon-riders and dragons of the Dance. She does it all without relying on any innate Valyrian-ness, even if she may possess this ancestry. It's not why Sheepstealer truly yields to her. It's not why Daemon is in love with her. She is Valyrian in the barest sense of the word, and it is because she isn't entrenched in the lie of her own supremacy that she is ultimately the character who survives. Stories don't always have to have clear-cut messages; characters don't always have to just be one thing. Nettles can be Valyrian, and Nettles can also be the representation as to why you cannot buy into the narrative of Valyrian superiority.

Conclusion

So... yeah. Use this if you want. Disagree if you want. I think it solves a bunch of problems I'd been facing when it came to rationalising not only why Valyrian lineage is intrinsic to dragon-riding, but why Valyrian characters we encounter in ASOIAF are so engaged in the narrative that they are intrinsically better than everyone else. And ultimately, why this narrative is doomed to fail from the start.

In short: Valyrians and dragons are the result of blood magic that was used to create a common ancestor, from which two distinct populations were selectively bred for using all manner of magical augmentations - the human Valyrians and the dragons we encounter in a traditional sense in ASOIAF. This was done over many, many generations, and likely incorporated some of the worst atrocities we can conceptualise. It explains why Daenerys is fireproof in the show; why dragon-riding is exclusive to Valyrians save for magical intervention; why Targaryen fetuses are sometimes dragon-like; why incest is practiced in the Targaryen family; and why dragons are both extremely intelligent and specifically beholden to the authority of their Valyrian masters.

If you have any thoughts, feel free to interact. No hatred, please. Keep it civil. Thank you very much for reading!

#house of the dragon #hotd #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #hotd writing resources #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #asoiaf meta #a song of ice and fire meta #house of the dragon meta #game of thrones meta

114 notes · View notes

mitsybubbles · 2 months

Text

Age swap Serizawa and Tome edit

Plus some ideas I wrote about it below after talking at lenght about it with @acekindaneat

Tome runs spirits and such but keeping herself at a small distance because she’s terrified of sharing with other people and being dismissed so it’s a way of doing things “herself” but she’s not a psychic even though she wants to be and she needs People. Because of this she’s a little more interested in pursuing urban legends cases, haunting cases, or mysteries and tends to be disappointed if there is a normal explanation for it

Serizawa is a former shut in who was coaxed out by Tome after his mom hired her (since she claimed to be a psychic consultant) and is currently “training” him in his abilities. He just moved to a new middle school and is very anxious about being a member of society and fitting in without losing control again

Reigen is a year below Serizawa at their school and acts like a normal student during class hours and is well liked but not close to anyone but after hours he spends his time trying to “become someone of note” because he feels isolated by the norms of society. He keeps getting obsessed with and switching hobbies every other week. His current one when the story starts is private investigation. His sister is a year above Serizawa and is a top student

Mob is a NEET in who hid himself away after his powers caused several accidents and fractured his relationship with his younger brother. He only leaves to get amenities and he relies on his parents support or on a work at home job for money

Dimple is a new spirit who doesn’t know what his place in the world is yet. He doesn’t have a human form or memories but he still has human desires and impulses so he feels out of place in it.

-Serizawa finds Reigen researching into the LOL cult after he joined it hoping to make some friends and they both get sucked into the supernatural conspiracy behind it. Reigen realizes Seri is a psychic and decides he’s now into the occult and demands his boss hire him and drags him to Tome’s office

- Tome meeting adult Mezato and then coming to blows ala Reigen and Roshuuto because Tome is annoyed that Mezato is seeking out the occult “because she’s bored”

-Serizawa being cajoled by Toichirou to join his little gang and Serizawa actually enjoying it and seeing claw as his friends even tho he felt guilty about hurting other gang members but “it’s okay because Master Kurata says it’s okay to protect yourself from bad people right?” Also he was given the umbrella as a gift and Tome and Reigen notices how much Seri’s been using it and Tone mostly goes “huh you’re skills are coming along ig” because while shes supportive she also isn’t very attentive and Reigen’s more suspicious because seirzawa is spending less time with him. Due to being scared that his first real friend would leave him, Reigen is a little threatened by that so he lashes on seri. They argue and seri stops hanging with reigen. Then reigen feels bad and decides to apologize and gets caught by Toichi + co in a small hazing ritual to get seri to stop comparing himself as the same level as “commoners” by denouncing his friendship with a nonesper. So then they fight when seri refuses to and finally seri insists that he doesn’t have to be stronger or weaker than anyone else to get to have proper connections and he breaks the umbrella saving Reigen from crossfire

And then later Reigen feels bad about everything (and he also realizes Toichirou was right that he was only friends with seri because he was an esper) so he gives seri some pokemon cards playing it off by saying he had those laying around his room and gets thrown off when Seri is openly emotional about it and hugs him. Meanwhile Toichirou is reevaluating everything because everyone sort of ditched him after he wasn’t giving them smth in return (except Hatori sort of lol- Hatori likes his presence Enough and the StuCo leader Joseph who was trying to get him suspended)

Minegeshi is like 20 here and runs a flower shop that the kids hang out in. It’s probably destroyed now. Sorry my dude.

-Reigen wanting to search for the dragger after his sister tells him he can’t keep “goofing around” otherwise his parents will force him to settle on an proper interest

-Some kids hiring Tome to find a “ghost” that lives on their street and it ended up being Mob who refuses to interact with them in a meaningful way. Seri makes it his mission to help him. Serizawa wants to ‘prove’ hes better now by helping someone like him but then he and Mob make a connection and Serizawa understands that he has to let Mob accept himself and make that step himself.

Also Tome shows Mob the benefits of releasing one’s emotions in a safe space.

-Reigen and Mob meet at the office and really hit it off

-Teru hiring the gang to come exercise a spirit in his TV studio and he and Mob end up fighting because he thought he was the best esper ever, you know the deal. And meanwhile Tome and the kids deal with the spirit of Mogami who was a psychic child star that haunted Teru and possessed Minori because he’s jaded by people who lie and use others to get notoriety

-Roshuuto is like a wannabe popular kid that annoys the hell out of Reigen because he pretends to be people’s friends and dumps them for someone better and now he’s trying to do occult stuff for clout

-Hoshida is an exorcist without any powers that we know of but he’s really nice and genuinely cares about helping others. He’s one of Tome’s informants

-Separation arc where Tome closed spirits and such briefly after Serizawa leaves to “be a normal kid” for a while because she thinks she won’t find anything meaningful about the paranormal she was searching for because she’s only humoring people- it ends up with her meeting people from middle and highschool she fell out of touch with because of simmilar things and her realizing she should continue to do whatever she loves and she should also pay more attention to the kid who she genuinely cares for and vice versa even if he isn’t going along with her whims 24/7

-Mob trying to reconnect with Ritsu

-Confession arc where Serizawa injures his mother in an incident after he thought he was doing “better” so he runs away and has to confront his own powers- and Tome having to come to an understanding with him too

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #ageswap au #tome kurata #serizawa katsuya #misty arts

90 notes · View notes

irradiatedsnakes · 1 year

Text

POKEMOB!!!! ive been thinking abt this nonstop for like, weeks. check it out, though! lots of little guys! reigen's special move where he chucks his nacli at the foe as hard as possible! teru's furfrou's matching wig! other stuff! this post has 18 images

@skypiea helped SO much with pokemon choices for this also!

see under the cut for full teams and further explanation!!! please check it out

mob - ralts & espurr. later, silvally. mob isn't a trainer, and his pokemon don't fight. they're just little guys. type:null was originally toichiro's (who used various pokemon alongside the human claw grunts), mob met it in aftermath of the divine tree once everything in the domination arc was over. (it still doesn't battle or anything. big fancy lapdog full of love.)

ritsu - unovan braviary, bisharp, and alakazam. going along with his student council status & top-of-the-line grades, ritsu's a skilled trainer with some powerful pokemon. braviary and bisharp were his most used pokemon early on- they're sort of representative of his student council thing (note braviary's unobtainable psychic type form)- but abra was his first pokemon, a counterpart to mob's ralts. it only evolved first during ritsu and the esper kids' attempted escape of the 7th division claw building.

reigen - murkrow, greavard, thievul, and nacli. reigen's not a trainer, his pokemon are both pets and assist him with work. with the exception of nacli, dark and ghost types are his specialty (psychic-adjacent types, but Not actual psychic types). his murkrow imitates him constantly. greavard is uu-chan, of course, but this time he doesn't get eaten by dimple (uu-chan is still feeding on reigen's soul). one of nacli's possible abilities in the games is "purifying salt", which cuts damage from ghost moves. reigen's nacli, of course, has sturdy. and to quote kite, re: thievul: "Reigen: would an untrustworthy guy have THIS [sends out the thief pokemon]"

teru - furfrou (shiny), zoroark (maybe shiny i cant decide. burple), and togepi (later togekiss). before his encounter with mob in season 1, teru didn't actually use his pokemon in battle often- they're rare, flashy, and/or powerful, but they were lackeys and status symbols just as much as his underlings at black vinegar were. his relationship with his pokemon improved after he started to work on his humility, leading to the evolution of his togepi.

shou - morpeko, latias, and (mega) blaziken. he's a super tough trainer, and he cares about his pokemon So much. he rides his latias like she's a surfboard

serizawa - swoobat & bewear. serizawa didn't really have pokemon growing up after his self-imposed isolation- the stufful he had as a kid was taken care of by his mother once that happened. he met his woobat a while after joining claw, and it evolved sometime after the world domination arc. bewear isn't entirely his- but after the world domination arc, he reconnected with it and takes care of it some of the time. the rest of the time it's serimama's gigantic housebear

tome - two (later three which become a single magneton) magnemite, orbeetle, eventually elgyem. i think magnemite just fits her vibes... plus it's a bit ufo-y, innit. she HAD to have a bug, and i mean..look at orbeetle's gmax form! and it has the telepathy ability! unfortunately, despite her best efforts, orbeetle's telepathy ability hasn't proved useful for finding human telepaths. she caught elgyem on new years, on the way back down to the car. tome can hold her own in battle, but training for battle isn't something she's focused on.

dimple - is a yamask! his big powerful form is cofagrigus, obvs. his mask is usually blank save for the cheek spots, since he has no memory of his life as a human. the mask does change to fit the (LOL) and psycho helmet cult as well. he places his mask on someone's face to possess them like any other yamask, to others it just appears as the regular red cheeks, but to folks who can see spirits they see the mask. when possessing someone, his expressions will show on the mask as well.

whew, i think that's everything i wanted to talk about. thanks for reading!

#kageyama shigeo #reigen arataka #kageyama ritsu #hanazawa teruki #kurata tome #serizawa katsuya #inukawa mameta #dimple #pkmn #mp100 #pokemob #art #ids in alt btw

886 notes · View notes