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littleoddwriter · 3 years ago

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Hi can you write the Sinclair brothers (separate) , the sawyers(separate), Chucky, and billy and stu (together) with a reader who gives themselves a lot of tattoos and piercings

Slashers x GenderNeutral!Reader, who has a lot of piercings and tattoos | Headcanons

Thank you so much for the request! I really hope you enjoy these. :) <3 [If anyone has any requests, feel free to send them my way! But please read this post BEFORE you do, thank you!]

notes; Body Modifications; Tattooing and Piercing oneself and another; Mild Oral Fixation; Touching; Domestic Fluff; Poly-Amorous Relationship.

Characters: Billy Loomis & Stu Macher; Bo, Lester and Vincent Sinclair; Bubba/Leatherface, Chop Top and Nubbins Sawyer; Charles Lee Ray/Chucky (Human).

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

Frankly, Stu is actually quite a big fan of body modification, he thinks piercings and tattoos are really neat, so he absolutely loves all of yours – and the fact that you do them yourself mesmerises him

He also takes the chance to finally get a tongue piercing, and he is super happy about it when you do it for him

Billy has never cared much about these things, but he can’t deny that your tattoos and piercings piqued his interest when he first saw you – and when he found out that they were all your own creations, he was just as entranced as Stu was

Whenever you went about giving yourself a new piercing, they’d ask to keep you company and watch you do it – you don’t mind and let them; in fact you really enjoy it

Stu really likes to get involved and help you out with whatever he can – sterilising your utensils, giving you a hand whichever way you may need, while Billy just looks on, smiling to himself

Even though you have plenty of ideas for tattoos that you want to put on your skin, you sometimes ask them both for designs – you love them and their minds, and they come up with such wonderful images, symbols, etc. it only feels right to wear something they made on your body for the world to see (or not, depending on where the tattoo is situated after all)

Bo Sinclair

Your body modifications definitely interest him a lot and he thinks they make you look even more beautiful

Loves kissing you all over your body and running his tongue over your piercings and mouthing at them

Traces your tattoos any chance he gets – it soothes him, so he’ll especially do it when he’s angry

Admires that you do them yourself and enjoys observing the process; he also helps you out however he can – he’ll take any excuse to get his hands on you

He’ll let you tattoo his arms and chest with little designs he’s come up with or seen in your folders that he liked

Lester Sinclair

So in love with you and everything about you – he is super impressed with your skills of turning your entire body into art like that

He really enjoys the way the piercings on your lips feel when you kiss, or when he touches you and feels them against his fingers; it’s so exciting to him

Loves all your tattoos and the different meanings behind them, or how they came to be, what inspired which, etc. – listening to you telling him these things makes him really happy and also feel special

Sometimes he’ll scribble or write something down in a stroke of genius and sheepishly hand it to you as he asks if you would like to either tattoo it on yourself, or on him (or both)

Definitely would ask you to pierce his earlobes – he was always fascinated by earrings especially and now he could get them!

Vincent Sinclair

You’re both artists and he really admires the way you use your body as a canvas

He’s very fascinated by the various tattoos and piercings you’ve got and regularly spends hours just looking at them and touching them gently with such deep appreciation in his eye

Would ask you to tattoo a design he’s had on his mind for a while onto his skin

Really likes the way your piercings look, feel and make you look so much more unique compared to every other person he’s ever seen – it’s strangely soothing, because he obviously looks different too, and it makes him feel less ashamed around you

Will always watch you add to your collection of tattoos and piercings – he just enjoys watching someone else make art for once

Bubba Sawyer/Leatherface

In a way, he sees your body modifications as something similar to his masks – they’re art, you make them yourself, and they’re a part of you

Asks you to pierce his ears, because just like Lester, he’s always been so fascinated by earrings and he always wanted to wear them – especially when he chose to wear his more feminine attire

It’s really stimulating to him to feel you up and stroke his fingers over your piercings

Is absolutely mesmerised by your tattoos – they’re so beautiful and your skin isn’t plain like all the other people’s he’s met, it’s just so exciting all around

Enjoys watching you do it; it’s so nice to just sit there and quietly admire you as you work

Chop Top Sawyer

Super excited about your piercings especially – he really likes to get his mouth on them!

Asks you to pierce his tongue, because he likes the way it feels

Loves to make suggestions for designs or where you should pierce yourself next

He does enjoy watching you do it, but he’ll also try to convince you to let him poke into your skin (you may let him do it once after he’s worn you down enough)

Some day he shows his favourite badge to you and asks you to tattoo it on the two of you, as a symbol for your love – it is so strangely romantic and you really love doing it (especially when it doesn’t stay at just one of these matching tattoos)

Nubbins Sawyer

In contrast to Chop Top, he rather traces all your body modifications with his fingers – it’s a very enjoyable sensation to him

He has an almost hungry look in his eyes when he watches you pierce or tattoo yourself and when you ask him if perhaps he’d like you to do something to him he declines – he just enjoys looking

Some of the animal bones he’s found actually become part of your tattoo designs eventually, because they remind you of him and in a way, they just look gorgeous

He certainly admires the art behind it all and loves to hear you talk about all the different inspirations for tattoos you have, or why you pierced certain areas – even if there is no “real reason” behind it, he enjoys the fact that you just do it

Takes a ton of pictures of your tattoos and piercings up close and decorates his room with them

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

He really enjoys the fact that you do these body modifications all by yourself

Loves to admire your tattoos and piercings all over your body, especially if they are at places that only he is able to see them up close

He likes to be present when you decide to pierce yourself especially, something about it is just so weirdly soothing, yet exciting, to him

Makes sure he gives you some inspiration for new tattoos (sometimes he’ll even see something on his victims that he think you might enjoy and shows it to you)

Would fucking kill you if you ever told anyone about it, but he loves playing with your piercings and just touching them gently, gingerly stroking his fingers over the jewellery and also your tattoos, just outlining their shapes lazily – this goes in hand with his aforementioned admiration

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maggiecheungs · 4 years ago

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atots as a disability narrative

finally posting my mini essay about atots and disability one (1) hour before episode 4 airs. putting this under the cut because it’s long. cw for discussions of casual ableism, suicidal ideation, death, disability, mental health.

(note: throughout i refer to tian’s disability, which we obviously don’t know the details of; i mainly mean it as a catch-all term for the health difficulties he faces, unlike most abled people, which continue on even after his transplant)

after episode 1 i remarked on how i read tian’s story as a disability narrative, but i wanted to wait to get a bit more info before i expanded on that. after episode 3, i think i can take a bash at outlining the main things that struck me--but there’s so much more i could say about this topic, so feel free to ask for clarification. also i obviously haven’t watched episode 4 yet, so that might change things! and of course, tian is filthy rich so his experiences with the practicalities of disability are somewhat mitigated/different from most experiences of disability... but in an ableist society, there are obviously some basic similarities in the way disability is perceived and experienced. so far, here are some of the main themes that i’ve noticed in atots:

the space between wellness and unwellness

in our society, wellness is constructed as part of a binary. one is either well (perfectly fucntional, capable of working) or unwell (ill enough to be incapable of functioning in a ‘normal’ manner). the default state is, of course, wellness; people get ill sometimes, of course, but they return to that default. however, people with disabilities and long-term health conditions can’t do that--and in the society in which we live, there aren’t accomodations for this sort of existence.

tian has spent the past few years living in the space between wellness and unwellness. it’s the space of hospital waiting rooms and people treating you like you’re fragile. it’s the space of always waiting for something to happen; waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the people around you to get tired of you. in tian’s case, waiting for death.

tian has spent the past years stuck in this liminal space: ostensibly well enough to live a fairly normal life, but not enough to do so properly. he--and everyone else around him--is just waiting, and it prevents him from forming any close emotional connections or long-term plans. even if he could forget about it for a while, others remind him through their behaviour and treatment of him. before his surgery, he isn’t allowed just exist on a day-to-day basis. his very existence is overshadowed by the threat of its end.

being stifled by others

in episode one, we get a glimpse of the near-complete erosion of personal boundaries tian has undergone over the past few years. after his operation, his mother panics when he leaves the house; she and his father stifle his freedom. at the same time, their fixation on ‘keeping him safe and healthy’ prevents them from seeing what he actually needs on an emotional level, which can be just as dangerous.

tian doesn’t just have to deal with his own feelings; he has to deal with his mother’s anxieties about him. he has to act well to assuage her fears. (tbh, neither of them handled the situation in the best possible way but... there isn’t really ‘a best way’ for this sort of situation? it’s more just limiting collateral damage.) similarly, his father blames him (or appears to blame him) for the suffering his mother is going through.

it turns into a thing where he feels as if he owes them wellness (or the appearance of it). he doesn’t feel like he can be vulnerable around them. he puts on a similarly blasé act with his friends, because he doesn’t want them to treat him the same way his parents do--like he’s made of glass. which leads to....

pushing himself beyond his limits

tian feels like he has something to prove. he wants to prove that he’s not a burden... which becomes the characterising theme of his stay in the village.

in going to stay at the village, tian’s managed to mostly escape the spectre of ‘unwellness’ that has haunted him for so long, as well as all the people who stifle him. now that he’s free, he wants to learn to stand on his own two feet; to prove it to himself and to everyone who doubted he could (his parents, phupha, etc.).

however, while this is great for him on one level, it’s not great on another. because in tian’s mind, his disability is equated with being a burden. (this is not unsurprising, given that we live in a hugely ableist society and given his own experiences with his parents.) now that he’s out of the stifling environment of his past, tian feels like asking for help or taking care of himself would be a concession of weakness/burdensome to those around him.

that means, when other people unthinkingly hold him to ableist standards which his body literally cannot accomodate, tian will push himself to the limit rather than admit that he ‘falls short’. this is something that could have grave--potentially fatal--consequences.

HOWEVER! this seems to be changing! he seems to be growing past his feeling that ‘disability = burden’. in episode 3, he voluntarily told kalae about his having to take medication, and actively equated taking care of oneself with maturity/strength (”kalae, i also take pills. grown-up men have no problem taking pills. do you want to be a child or a grown-up?”)

i’ll be interested to see how this progresses. hopefully when/if he discloses his condition to phupha, it will go some way towards helping him move past all the self-directed ableism he’s internalised. also it should stop phupha from inadvertently pushing him to exceed his limits. (i predict that one area of tension between them will be phupha’s worry about tian--if their relationship is to succeed, phupha needs to be aware and accomodating of tian’s needs without stifling him/treating him like he’s made of glass as his parents did)

survivor’s guilt

a lot of this might be unconscious, but... tian has, in his mind, done nothing with his life--unlike torfun. while tian was alive and being a burden on everyone around him, gambling his few remaining years away, torfun was being one of the best, kindest, most generous people in the world. inevitably, living in her house and interacting with her people, he compares himself to her at every turn. she could help the villagers where he cannot. she should be here, not him. her heart is wasted on him.

but this is changing! in the most recent episode (3) we can see him building bonds with the villagers on his own merits. in the first few episodes i was worried that tian’s journey would be represented as but a shadow of torfun’s, but he’s forging his own indivdiual journey. similarly, his relationship with phupha seems to be individual to him, rather than a copy of the relationhship with torfun (but i guess we’ll find out more in the next few episodes).

suicidal ideation

as mentioned above, tian has spent his entire life waiting for death. now, that looming spectre has disappeared, but it’s still a part of his identity. for years, he’s shaped his sense of self around that fact: he is going to die, so it does not matter what he does or does not do (this post sums it up really well!) he’s reckless because why the fuck shouldn’t he be? even if he’s not necessarily actively suicidal, for a while he seems to be passively suicidal.

this is also starting to show signs of change--as he overcomes his survivor’s guilt, builds genuine connections with the people around him, and feels like he’s contributing to something bigger than himself.

which leads me to the overriding theme of the series: tian’s going to have to learn to love himself, disabilities and all. he’s starting to build himself back up in the village, but he can’t treat it only as an escape. at some point, he’s going to need to face all the things i’ve mentioned in this essay and work through them. hopefully phupha will be there to help him, but this isn’t a ‘love cures all ills’ situation. loving phupha won’t ‘fix’ him; tian needs to love himself.

but... honestly, i have faith. i was really cautious after watching the first episode, because i’ve seen so many shows handle disability badly. but atots has exceeded my expectations in every other way so far, and i am truly excited to see where it goes next <3

#atots #1000 starts #a tale of thousand stars #tian #disability #ellis watches atots #atots disability rep

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homeformyheart · 4 years ago

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prepared - adam du mortain x f!detective (twc)

day 25 – regret

author’s note: this outline was 2 pages long from weeks ago and i’m so glad i was able to figure out a non-angsty response to this one. thanks so much for the request, @agentnolastname. this ended up being a full fic pretty much, i hope you all enjoy!

copyright: all characters, except my oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – adam du mortain x f!detective (regina bishop) rating/warnings: 16+; suggestive imagery word count: ~2k based on/prompt: day 25 – regret from #28dateswithunitbravo challenge by @wayhavenmonthly summary: after a heated night where adam panicked, regina is left confused and hurt.

prepared

regina walked into the living room, smiling at the sight of adam reading quietly on the couch, on one of their rare days off. they had implicitly agreed to explore things between them, and she was both excited and terrified. more often the former than the latter these days, especially when he was like this, relaxed and willing to stay in her company.

“you’re staring,” he murmured, without looking up and turning the page of his book.

she tried to suppress her giddy smile as she bounced over to him, standing in front of him and casting a shadow over his book until he was forced to look up at her. she reached down and removed the book from his hands, carefully placing it on the seat next to him. he looked at her quizzically, the raised eyebrow dropping to meet the other as she placed her hands on his shoulders before settling her knees on either side of his thighs.

she sat down, comfortably seated on his thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“how can i not stare at you?” she said with a soft smile. “you’re gorgeous.”

the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile against his will. “how could i possibly compare to you?” he said, delicately placing his hands on her hips.

regina hummed. “i guess you can’t,” she grinned cheekily, sliding slightly closer and watching a faint blush creep up his neck and color his cheeks.

she ran her thumbs along his jaw and tilted his head back, her attention squarely on his lips. her eyes flicked upward hesitantly before she tilted her head down, feeling his pulse quicken and his throat still under her hands as though he was holding his breath. she moved slowly, to give him the space to stop her, but his grip on her hips only tightened slightly. his mouth parted and regina closed the gap between them, closing her eyes at the feel of his soft lips moving against hers and soft moans vibrating between them.

his thumbs slipped under the hem of her shirt, whether consciously or not, she wasn’t sure, but it spurred a desire to be bolder than she usually was with adam in moments like this. her tongue danced with his when his mouth parted again, her hips mirroring the movements. she ground against him, hands moving toward his back and under his shirt, trying to close the nonexistent gap between them.

a low growl escaped adam’s throat and sent a thrill down regina’s spine. she could feel that he was hard even through their clothing and the sensation spurred her on, the room around them fading away as she ground harder and faster against him.

“adam,” she sighed, in-between kisses, moving her hands to slip under his shirt.

he froze at the sound of her voice and pulled away, stilling her hips and shifting her back. regina opened her eyes, stunned and confused, shifting her weight back on his lap.

“hey, it’s okay. it’s just me,” she said softly at the sight of his panicked expression. she moved closer to him again, settling herself against his hips.

he refused to meet her eye, standing abruptly instead, the sudden movement threatening to send her flying off him and onto the floor. his arms wrapped around her back and he set her on her feet before turning and walking toward the hallway.

“i’m—i’m sorry,” he said quickly, turning his face toward her without making eye contact before disappearing from the room.

what just happened? regina wondered, collapsing against the couch and wrapping her arms around her knees. maybe she had pushed him too quickly? the nature and state of their relationship was still a question mark, but she had thought they were making progress. maybe their relationship wasn’t meant to get physical.

or maybe it was just her. tears started prickling behind her eyes as she desperately tried to push away her deep-rooted insecurity trying to claw its way to the surface and drown her from the inside.

a few days later, at the police station

adam looked at the station doors from behind a nearby tree, internally warring with himself as to whether it was really the best time to talk about what happened a few nights ago. he certainly never pictured himself wanting to have a personal conversation about their relationship while regina was on duty, but the thought that she may have been left with the wrong impression about his intentions toward her didn’t sit well with him.

his shoulders tensed at the sudden sound of someone whistling near the station. he peeked around the tree, only to clench his jaw at the sight of the nosy reporter making his way into the station. no doubt to bother the detective.

regina sighed as she nudged the stack of paperwork to the edge of her desk with her forearm, pushing her keyboard as far back as it could go so she could rest her forehead on her arms. the last few days hadn’t been easy, between the impromptu agency meetings regarding new supernatural species moving to the area and mediating a territory dispute in the forest. it barely left time for sleep, let alone a chance for her and adam to talk.

if she was being honest, she knew she was avoiding the conversation and welcomed the additional work. but she also knew she couldn’t let this drag on much longer. there was still an awkward tension around them, even though she did her best to remain professional.

“your bodyguard isn’t around today,” bobby’s voice cut through her small office, his face partially obscured by the narrow glass vase in his hands encasing a few red roses.

“he’s not my bodyguard,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“is he your boyfriend?” bobby asked, jealousy clearly marking his features.

regina faltered and looked away. “not exactly, no.”

she could almost hear the smirk that appeared on bobby’s face and looked back at him to find that he had stepped closer to her. “so you’re single, and i’m single, so why don’t i take you out for a nice valentine’s day dinner, like old times? i even got you your favorite flowers.”

she shuddered at the memories of their past valentine’s celebrations together, none of which had been particularly pleasant for her. she eyed the vase as he set it down on the desk in front of her, placing his palms carefully on the wood surface and leaning toward her.

“first of all, those aren’t my favorite flowers. you would know that if you paid attention. and given our history, it’s incredibly bold of you to bring me roses and ask me out on a date,” she said, pursing her lips together to prevent her train of thought (presumptive asshole) from being spoken out loud.

bobby took a step back with a hand over his chest in mock hurt. “you wound me, angel.”

“just get out of here bobby,” she said, gritting her teeth.

“that’s not a no, so i’ll pick you up at seven, angel,” he called out as he headed out of her office.

she came to her senses at the nickname, standing up and rounding her desk quickly. “it’s always going to be a no to you!” she snapped at his retreating back, but he merely waved his hand at her without looking back.

regina let out a frustrated yell, grabbing the vase he had set on her desk and threw it as hard as she could at the far wall, the sound of it shattering and falling to the floor in pieces doing little to release the tension in her shoulders.

adam had waited patiently outside the door to regina’s office, not wanting to interrupt her conversation with the reporter, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t listening to every exchange between them, his grip on the doorknob tightening and warping the metal before he realized and tucked his hand into his pocket instead. he moved swiftly to the side as bobby walked out and glared at him, and it was all adam could to do suppress the urge to knock him unconscious.

he knocked twice and walked in, surveying the room briefly, lingering on the broken vase and scattered flowers before meeting her gaze. “i will not be paying for that,” he said, his mouth curving upward into a gentle smile.

regina couldn’t help but smile and appreciate that he was actually joking with her. “not that i’m complaining, but what are you doing here? i figured you’d be busy today,” she said, moving back to sit on the edge of her desk.

adam’s smile faded and regina noticed his eyes had turned a conflicted green, shifting from an icy green to its usual warm emerald. she wasn’t sure if she had seen him this nervous before; one of the things she appreciated about him was that he didn’t beat around the bush.

he finally looked at her and clasped his hands behind his back. “i wanted to talk about what happened the other night,” he said finally.

a weight settled in her stomach. “oh, right,” she said, swallowing nervously.

“i regret the way i reacted. and you deserve an explanation,” he said softly, stepping closer to her as if that would ease the awkwardness between them.

regina shook her head, trying not to let her disappointment show. “it’s okay, adam. i know we never talked about it, but it’s alright if you’re not interested in anything more physical. i can respect that. and it doesn’t change how i feel about you.”

his eyebrows shot up so quickly that regina thought they might fly off his face. “you are mistaken.”

at the frown on her face, he cleared his throat and followed up quickly, “i am very interested. i was just… unprepared that evening and you deserve… more.”

unprepared? she thought the word choice was odd since it wasn’t like they had planned to do anything physical; she had just gone with her instincts after all. although she vaguely remembered adam telling her once that he hadn’t been with anyone in that way since before he was turned.

understanding dawned on regina’s face. “oh adam, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, i promise. it happens.”

“still, i want to make sure you are aware of how… receptive i am to progressing our physical relationship as well. in fact, i have thought about it often,” he said warmly, but the underlying tone was suggestive.

the way he said it, as his gaze slowly trailed down the length of her body and back up, sent a shiver up her spine. her mouth parted open in surprise at his boldness as she met his gaze, icy and full of fire at the same time, the intensity of them stealing her breath and rooting her to the spot, raising her body temperature even though he was still a few feet away.

he stepped slowly, but surely, closer to her until he was hovering over her and regina had to tilt her head up to look at him from where she was perched on her desk. he leaned down and captured her lips with his, her body reacting instantly, hands moving to his waist as his tangled themselves in her hair. his lips were fire and water, each movement against hers sending sparks down her throat and drowning her at the same time.

when he finally pulled away, she felt flushed from head to toe and cleared her throat, “well, i’m probably not going to get any work done today.”

adam looked a little proud that he had flustered her so visibly. “perhaps i can help you later this evening then. we can do… paperwork at your apartment together,” he said slowly.

the deliberate way he paused before the word “paperwork” made her breath hitch and she could only nod.

he walked out of the office backwards with deliberate steps, putting his sunglasses on slowly before turning away, but not before regina noticed the smirk on his lips. she looked at the pile of paperwork on her desk and knew that the end of the day couldn’t come fast enough.

* * * * * permatag: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @pearlsandsteel; @gloynporslen; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart; @writer-ish; @fhauvilles;

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tatertotthethot · 5 years ago

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The Doms Next Door 2.0

THIS IS A TEMPORARY REUPLOAD FOR THIS CHAPTER CUZ TUMBLR IS RAN BY A BUNCH OF BOTS. 2.1 HERE

Warnings/AN: frequent, casually cursing; comical, gay Jimin; insecure reader; steamy flirting; tattoo/sexualized Tae 🙃. Enjoy~ (TAEKOOK EDIT ABOVE IS ARTKOOK DONE BY NONCONMAN ON INSTAGRAM)

_________________________________

Your tires came to a stop outside of the tattoo shop you've seen online— a brick building, covered in spray paint and street-style art. A sign buzzed over the awning of the entrance doors, with the built-in UV lights and graffiti-styled font displaying the name of the place in neon-red letters. Kink For Ink! The name alone was what first caught your attention last week, when you Googled "Tattoo shops near me" and it pulled up a list, with "Kink For Ink" being the first option. It just seemed so uncanny and fitting at the time, considering the previous run-in you just had with the sex-crazed neighbors a couple nights before. You couldn't help but to click the link to their Instagram.

A profile came up with 53.4k followers, which immediately blew your mind... but you quickly saw why. Every tattoo and piercing, no matter the body-placement, skin-type, or quirky design, was vividly appealing— certainly done by the articulate hands of certified experts. Even in the comments of the piercings that were posted, people were praising them for the "minimal" amount of pain they experienced, despite the fact that some of piercings were done in places you couldn't even fathom the thought of having a needle jammed through.

It said in the bio that the shop is owned by the two artists that work there— Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook. You couldn't find out much about them, all their pictures showed was their work. You even went back to search for a personal account of their own, but nothing came up. You then went back to the bio and clicked a link to the official website, hoping to find out something, but you were met with a disclaimer rule at the top that automatically deemed your chances of even getting your piece done by them, slim-to-none.

• No walk-ins allowed.

• Every request/idea must be sent in through the DMs of our Instagram page. You will only be accepted only if it spikes our personal interests.

Yikes; You were instantly discouraged by this. The piece you wanted was something so common and cliché, that you actually got the image out of a child's coloring book.... It was the cartoon layout of the glass vase and enchanted rose, from the Beauty and the Beast movie. Cheesy, yes. But it was something of personal, nostalgic value. You remember when you were little— roughly around 3 or 4 years of age— when your parents started fighting and would spend all day screaming and throwing things at each other, putting you in a constant state of anxiety. But then you'd go to bed at night and pop the VHS tape, and the movie never failed to put you in a peaceful state of mind— a hopeful one. It's remained as your all-time favorite love story throughout the years. Which, is ironic, considering that the relationship itself was different, but almost as dysfunctional as your parent's. However, the fact that even the Beast was capable of change, and everything wound up so perfect and happy in the end, makes your heart happy. And even now, at age 19, it still puts you in your feelings. The previous remake of a movie is what actually inspired you to get the enchanted rose as a tattoo, after seeing it in 3D not too long ago. But you're only willing to shell out up to $200 for it, at most. You've just started college, and even though Jimin's parents own the house and let the two of you live there, rent free, you're still responsible for half the utility bills from month to month. Blowing every bit of money you have saved up, right at the start of the semester, would just be irresponsible. But $200 was manageable, and you're looking for anything that'll give you a little extra "oomph" to break you out of this introverted shell you've always known. Pushing it off would just delay it, and you were ready for change. The nose piercing you want is just a small little thing that'll hopefully add a bit of flare to the features of your face. These two guys could probably do the piercing/tattoo with a blindfold on and a hand tied behind their back. So, if it meant that you'd be able to get these things done in confidence, without having to worry about the outcome, you figured it wouldn't hurt for you to at least ask, even if they straight-up ignore you. So, after spending an unnecessary amount of time overthinking the wording of your text, you finally constructed a message in your notes and DM'd it to business page, after sending them a small, simple outline of the cartoony rose, and pressed send.

• You: Hello! I've been wanting to get this tattoo done for a very while now, and was hoping one of you will be willing to do it for me... along with piercing my nose? I know it's a very mediocre and cliché piece, and a nose piercing can be done anywhere. But I'm new to the area and I've never gotten a tattoo/piercing done before and I haven't really checked out any other places either because I found this page first. And from what I can see, you guys are pretty efficient and CRAZY talented. So, I trust it'll get done right.... only if you want to! I'm willing to pay $200 for this, but if it costs that much for just the outline I've sent then that's fine as well. But I understand if neither of you want to do it cuz that is really cheap compared to the ones I've seen lol. But either way, thx for ur time 😁

A few minutes went by and you had just unlocked your phone to check the message again, when the word "seen" popped below the message. You held your breath for a second— but seconds turned to minutes, and time went by with no reply, what-so-ever. You figured maybe you sounded a little too immature to take seriously; kind of like a prepubescent 12-year-old asking someone out for a dance... and you blew it. Which was disappointing, but predictable. So fuck it. Maybe it's a sign; you shouldn't get it after all.

11pm rolled around, many hours later. You were now hiding beneath your covers, beginning your "amateur threesome" exploration on PornHub. You were ready to see what this whole "2 guys, 1 girl" thing was all about. But just when you were about to type it into the search bar, you were interrupted by an Instagram notification dropping down from the top of your screen.

"KinkForInk sent you a message."

You audibly gasped, eyes turning to saucers as you clicked on the notif and switched over to the Instagram app.

• KinkForInk: Hi (Y/N). This is Tae, one of the artists of the shop. The tattoo you sent in is worth roughly $100... but I want to run an offer by you in hopes that you'll be interested.

— Your brows scrunched in oddity, stomach fluttering. An offer? For you?

• You: Okay, sure. What's that?

• KinkForInk: I've been looking for someone willing to showcase the custom design I've come up with, specifically for a much more... exclusive version of the Beauty and the Beast tattoo you sent. And if you'd be down for letting me and my partner put it on you, it'll be free. No charge. BUT you'll also have to sign a contract saying that you'll do a little bit of modeling for us once it's done. You think you'd be in to doing something like that, even if you get it?

— Your head spun for a second, reading the message over and over again until you could fully wrap your mind around what he was saying.

• You: Hold on... YOU wanna put a tattoo on ME so that I model for you? And it's FREE? Are you sure about this? I'm not even model material lol.

• KinkForInk: Yes, yes, and yes, you are. You'd be perfect for this.

• You: How do know that? Is it a face tattoo? Cuz I only have 6 selfies on here and you can't see anything past my shoulders.

—"Seen" came up as soon as you hit send, but a couple of minutes rolled by with no reply to the message, nor was he even typing. Maybe you came off a little rude. But it was already sketchy and it was a logical question.

— An image suddenly popped up: a screenshot of your Facebook profile. Then another— and much to your horror, it was the photo Jimin tagged you in last week, when the two of you were swimming at a local community pool. You were wearing a simple two piece, sitting at the foot of the lawn chair Jimin was also sitting in, as his legs were visible on either side of you and his lap was practically framing your ass. The photo was at an upward angle and looked so scandalous— but really, you had just asked Jimin to put sun screen on your back and he didn't want to stand up because the pavement was too hot against his bare feet. But you actually liked the picture at the time; it was just a silly joke and your ass actually looked quite nice from that angle. Plus, everyone knows nothing sexual actually goes on between the two of you, for obvious reasons. But Taehyung doesn't, so you couldn't help but dreadfully cringe when you saw the caption of the screen shot.

"Babymama 💦🍆"

• KinkForInk: Is this you??

• You: Yes, that's me. The caption is a joke tho... pay no mind to that. But this is like, really happening? You really think it'd look good on me?

— Why that picture though? You couldn't help but wonder.

• KinkForInk: Yes. Like I said, you're perfect for this piece. Are you down to at least see what the tattoo will look like? We don't expect you to be experienced with modeling or anything, but if you listen to us and cooperate, you'll do just fine.

• You: Yes I wanna see, and I'll do the best I can if I decide to get it... I'm just a bit shy, is all.

• KinkForInk: You'll be in good hands. I promise.

• You: Okay... are you going to show me??

• KinkForInk: Can't send it over a message, I don't want it plagiarized or the concept stolen. But the piece itself isn't necessarily crazy or anything, just more creative. I'd be more than happy to show you at my shop some day this week, if you'd be willing to swing by.

• You: Yeah, I can do that. When should I come?

• KinkForInk: Are you available after 5 tomorrow?

• You: I am, I get off at 4:30.

• KinkForInk: Great. Be here by 5:30, and make sure you've eaten in case you like the piece and wanna get started. It's pretty big for a first timer and gonna take a lot of time and patience. It'll have to be done in sessions but I hope you have a fair enough pain tolerance to at least get the outline of it done first.

— It can't be any worse than a bikini wax, you thought, shivering at the memory. That a story for another time. You decided on an alternative scenario.

• You: I give blood from time to time... but that's easy and doesn't really hurt that much. I think I can handle it though... maybe. I honestly don't know lol, I'm sorry 😣. But I can try my best. Can I ask where it's supposed to go?

• KinkForInk: That's okay, I'll work with you. It's supposed to go down the middle of your back. Starts between the center of your shoulder blades, and trails down the length of your spine to your lower lumbar. You'll see how it looks once we transfer a template on your back. But if you don't like it, there will be no hard feelings from my end. I can still do the tattoo you want if that's the case, free of charge just for your time.

• You: Oh no, you don't have to do that! I'd still pay!

• KinkForInk: Not if I don't accept your money. Trust me, I'm not worried about it. The nose piercing is gonna be $30 regardless, though. JK isn't so lenient.

• You: Of course. Will I have to take my shirt and bra off for the tattoo?

• KinkForInk: Yes, and for the pictures once it's done.

— Your mind blanked at that; thumbs froze over the keypad. He was typing again.

• KinkForInk: Don't let that discourage you. Again, you're in good hands. You can bring something to cover your chest. And the pics will be if your back as well.

• You: Okay, I can handle that. So 5:30 tomorrow?

• KinkForInk: Yes, please don't flake on us!

• You: Lol, I won't. I'll be there.

"They're gonna knock us the fuck out and sell our organs to the black market," Jimin declared. He had parked next to you outside of the shop, and was now sitting in the driver seat of his car with his door locked and windows all the way up, refusing to get out. You were standing right outside his door, still having to talk on the phone. "And is this Tae-guy an AllState representative or something?"

Jimin is petty. You wanted him here for moral support— which he's usually reliable for— but this time, he's just plain salty right and doing everything he can to remind you of that. Reason is, he's been begging you to get a matching tattoo with him ever since your 18th birthday, and you've always refused because of what he wanted to get.

Cupcakes. Jimin wanted to get matching cupcake tattoos... in honor of Cupcakke the legend. Sorry, but H E L L no.

You rolled your eyes, growing frustrated. He only has enough time to pop in and confirm that these two aren't gonna kill you, and then he's gotta head home to get ready for work. You were already supposed to be in there. It was 5:33pm, 3 minutes past the time.

"Jimin, you're the one that insisted on coming along! And now you're making me late!" you ranted. "I'm going in without you."

"Hold your horses, hoe! I'm finishing my blueberry slushie," He retorted, sassily bringing the straw to his mouth and loudly slurping it into the phone. He then abruptly flinched away from the straw with a disgusted expression, nostrils flared, body locking up; lips drawing into an air-tight knot that was so extreme and unnatural, it caused an ugly snort to break out of your nose.

He smacked his lips in exaggeration to the taste, face falling back into stone as an eyebrow arched over the top of his aviators; unamused and saltier than before... Like you were at fault for that, too.

"Or... Blueberry-ass, I should say."

That forced another giggle out of you as Jimin stiffly rolled his window down, phone still pressed to his ear and eyes still scowling at you behind the inspector shades. He bit down on the straw and withdrew it with his teeth before dumping the dark-blue contents of the drink out of the window, making it a point to shake the styrofoam cup empty of every drop before tossing it over his shoulder and into back seat. He then spat the straw out of his mouth with an audible "PLUUUUH!" of a French accent, and waited until the window rolled all the way up again, just so he could hang up the phone. You scoffed at this as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, scornfully watching Jimin exit the car and slam the door behind him. He snatched his glasses off his face as his cotton-candy hair swayed in the breeze, revealing his scornful eyes right back at you as he gestured for you to lead the way in exasperated manner— as if you were the one wasting his time now.

"Go on, lead us to the grave," He shooed, a snippy little shit. You sauntered away, walking up the side of the shop, then paused just before reaching the glass entrance door, when you remembered how much of a coward you are. You've never even stepped into a parlor before, and supposedly, this was a famous one. Which makes it more and more surreal when you think about it.

"Are we doing the mannequin challenge now? Is that what we're doing?" Jimin sardonically inquired.

"You go first, I'm nervous!" You whisper-hissed.

"You don't want me to go in there first— I'll show out," he reasoned, simply stating a fact.

"Please don't," you whined.

"Then, again, I'll show out?" He reiterated, as if to say duh. "How else am I supposed to break the ice? I look like Timmy Turner's Fairy-Gay- Parent."

You gave him a wary look... he's right. You sighed, slightly kicking your foot in distracted defeat. Fuck, you hated making an entrance to new places—

"Hold up— is that Drake?" Jimin suddenly blurted, holding his hand up to silence you. You honed in on the muffled track playing from behind the glass door, and Jimin's face soon light up like a Christmas tree before he spun around you, unstoppable.

"Jimin, NO—!"

"KIKI, DO YOU LOVE ME—?!"

It was already too late. The door was flying back behind him as he Milly-Rocked his way into the shop, leaving you no choice but the chase in behind him.

"—ARE YOU RIDING? SAY YOU'LL NEVA-EVA LEAVE FROM BESIDE ME— hello there."

You were panting, coming to a stop right behind Jimin, where you instantly latched on to the back of his shirt as you met the face of the man behind the studio counter. And, as corny as this is gonna sound: the world actually stilled for a solid beat... or maybe you were in the verge of cardiac arrest.

A pair of glossy-Black eyes looked up at the two of you; A series of silver-studded earrings trailed along the outer cartilages, peaking out beneath a head of soft, layer-swept hair. It was a Carmel-tinted blonde in color— thick and shaggy, and neatly spilling in waves around a headband that proudly sported a high-dollar brand-name you've never seen anyone wear in person before. G U C C I, it read— Meaning that the headband alone was probably worth more than some of your college text books, put together. It sat just a few inches above a pair of dark brows, that oddly brought out the shape of his cat-like eyes— irises like polished marbles. His ample lips had a sharp, well-defined Cupid's-bow, and a natural shade of pink that fit the porcelain appearance of his melanin-kissed complexion, to the finest degree.

And here you are, looking like an actual bum. You had just enough time to clock out of work and head straight over here to make it in time. You didn't even have any makeup on, and the only thing hiding your raggedy hair from those captivating eyes is your old baseball cap from high school. It took a second for him to take the bold presence that was Park Jimin— who was also frozen to the spot as he openly checked the guy out. He was hunched over the counter, a v-neck hoodie covering the rest of him with a thin, loose-fitting material. It was Black and allowed a full visual of his tan neck, and prominent collar bones. And it certainly didn't hide the fact that he had a pair of wide-set shoulders, either. A pencil sat in his hand— one that was laced with masculine veins, and lot of decorative ink. There was a silver ring on his thumb.. and a very heavy-looking Rolex watch.

The man cracked a grin at Jimin— a boxy one that dimpled in at the corners.

"Love the hair," he humorously began, twisting a quirky eyebrow at Jimin. You subconsciously snagged the bill of your hat as your eyes went a little wide at how mature the man's voice was.

"Love the watch," Jimin retorted, then reached around and gripped you by the wrist before pulling you into full view beside him. "You wouldn't happen to be Taehyung...?"

"Mhm," the man hummed, absentmindedly moving his wrist at the mention of his watch. His eyes cut over to you, and you swore you could see a minuscule reflection of yourself in his eyes, before they flashed back at Jimin and blinked. "You must be the babydaddy?"

Blood rushes to your ears. It's really him... a guy who looks like a high-dollar model himself, asking you to be his canvas model. Your own conscious didn't even know what to say right now. So you stayed quiet and still as Jimin took charge... which was a mistake.

"She wishes, but no. I'm the best-friend— and a gay one, at that," Jimin replied, and you knew he did that for his benefit. Thot. "I'm just here to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice her to Satan, or anything of that nature. I need her around in case I ever forget the Netflix password."

Taehyung chuckled at that, mouth opening to reveal a row of teeth shinier than Chip Skylark's. But then, you caught something behind his teeth that caused your gut to leap. A silver ball... a tongue ring. Your thoughts clouded over for a second.

"Well, I can assure you, she's safe with me," he said, looking over at you again. You blinked, nothing more. His brow arched at your lack of response, but this time, it was done more handsomely as he was still smirking at you. "Still, you don't look too thrilled to be here... You sure you wanna do this?"

"She's just nervous because you're really fucking hot," Jimin announced, unyielding. "You should feel how sweaty her hand is."

"Don't listen to him— I'm gay too," You lied in panic, trying to defend yourself from the absolute truth Jimin spoke just then. You snatched your hand away from him and jutted a finger at the door, eyes beading and lid twitching as your nerves ran amuck. "Goodbye, Jimin."

"She's a lonesome hetero," Jimin told Taehyung, assuring him with a face that showed no bluff. "One look at her camera roll, and you'd see for yourself—" You were yanking him away by the arm now, in a tug-of-war game that Jimin obviously could've won if he really wanted to. But he figured you suffered enough and eventually let you drag him out of the shop, waving bye to Taehyung before turning to look at you with beading eyes.

"I think he wants to fuck you— text me as soon as you can," Jimin uttered with unmoving lips as before he walked to his car. You stopped for a second, noticing he was actually being serious. How could he possibly think that he wants to fuck you, just from that small encounter? And what is the odd sensation currently coiling in your stomach? Things grew awkward again when you re-entered the shop, coming to a stand at the same spot... only alone now. He was still amused, it seemed. And so calm and cool despite this odd, intense look in his eyes. It gave him a Casanova effect, where all he had to do was give you that look and it'd instantly make you blush.

"He seems like a fun person to be around," he noted, somewhat honestly, but more so making fun of the red-hot appearance of your face.

"He's a pain in the ass," you muttered, trying to conjure up a smirk but hardly even able to speak properly from how dry your mouth was. It felt like there was a white-hot iron expanding in your throat. "I'm really sorry about him."

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're here— thought you'd chicken out." You nervously wiped your clammy palms over the back pockets of your jeans as Taehyung got up from the barstool behind the counter and approached you on the other side of it, a whole head-and-a-half taller than you. He was wearing black cardigan jeans and matching combat boots.. his headband and jewelry the only thing not black on him. And oddly enough, he made it look fucking fantastic.

"Mh-mm," You hummed, not trusting your voice. You've never needed a sip of water so bad in your life— he even smelled expensive.

"Well, It's very nice to meet you," he formerly began, and you mustered up the normality of placing your (dried) hand into his much larger one, as he held his out to you in greeting. And boy, was he close. So close that the heels of your spine itches to lean back from the proximity.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I'm really sorry if I'm acting weird. I'm just nervous." — Your mind struggled to stay focused on your words, arm tensing at the skin-to-skin contact. You were extra-effected by the firmness in his grip. You really wanted to look down at all the bold ink you saw dashing across the veiny surface of his tanned hand, or see if those were images or scripted letters on the knuckles of lengthy fingers... But you were held captive by those God-blessed eyes... And that fucking tongue ring. It was infecting your head in ways that weren't necessarily healthy for your current state of mind, as you saw it peering in and out at certain words.

"And physically shaking," Taehyung pointed out, brows twitching down at your trembling hand in his as if he was concerned for it. But his smirk gave off an odd sense of fascination to the involuntary symptom, like it was cute or something? Hm. He glanced back up at you, causing your dehydrated throat to bob as his other hand came to clasp over the rest of yours, swallowing it completely from the wrist down. "Intimidated?"

"V-Very," you spluttered, a small slither of saliva copulating down your throat as you looked back up at him. He absentmindedly rolled his tongue ring over the button row of his teeth as he watched you with tainted eyes— undoubtably getting cocky with that damn grin of his and proudly teasing you about your reaction to him. It gratified the effortless sex-appeal he had. You were even beginning to imagine that tongue ring elsewhere, and you literally just met him. Then, as you felt the band of a ring move along with the pad of his thumb as gently ran it across your trembly knuckles, chills shot up all the way to your shoulder. Oh... oh wow. You glanced down at his knuckles on reflex this time, and saw a four-letter word scripted in black ink across the bottom row of his knuckles, and another word scripted on the middle section of his fingers. A silver band on his naked thumb. STAY TRUE, it said.

"And why's that?"

"I.. feel like you're a celebrity," you sheepishly admitted, your other hand wedging into your back pocket as you had to stop yourself from reaching for the bill of your hat again. Is he flirting? The words seem too innocent for the way he was making you feel. It was getting so hot in the oven of his massive palms, and he wasn't even squeezing you hard enough to cut off any circulation, but yet your fingers were beginning to tingle.

"Mm, no. Just a little popular, really," he granted, teetering his head a little as he pondered the thought. You could see his vocal chords contract in his sleek neck as they project his smooth, pungent voice. "You still trust me?"

"Mhm," was all you could muster. He'd gotten even closer, to where his hand had gone into a prayer stance around yours. You were aware of how wide your eyes had gone from the awe you... you knew this was just the beginning. He was going to be very handsy throughout this whole process. But in a very twisted way, you were more than okay with that. Even if it meant you were at risk of fainting from actual dehydration. Maybe you were in over your head. But you couldn't will yourself away from this now. And then, just as a wide, heart-stopping smile edged out on that mind-numbingly handsome face, the door at that back of the room swung open, and heavy-metal rock blasted through the quiet vibe of the scenery and caused you to jump a little at the disturbance. Taehyung shot a wicked smile over his shoulder, and his next words nearly knocked you out right then and there as you beheld yet another, breathtaking sight.

"Oh, there you are," Tae eagerly acknowledged, one hand still holding yours as he walked around to grab your with the other, presenting you to the.. hulking presence in the room. "This is (Y/N), our next little experiment."

926 notes · View notes

hotpinkhoshi · 5 years ago

Text

kiss it better | one

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

*a/n*: hiiiiii! so here we go. i don’t have much to say except that you’ll probably notice this chapter is a bit shorter than they usually are for my fics. with this story, chapters may or may not be shorter in length. this is just easier on me, and helps me to keep a regular posting schedule. now, i’m not going to say i won’t post longer chapters, but i just wanted to get it out there. i have a tentative posting schedule in mind, which i’ll make a post about later, but i’d say you can probably expect a new chapter every two weeks.

also, just want to say- i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy right now. stay home, wash your hands, avoid contact with your face, and if you have to order food tip your delivery drivers a lil extra! and to those that don’t get to stay home and still have to work, i’m right there with you. we’ll get through this and all we can do is take it day by day ❤️

✩ index here ✩

make sure you read the prologue first!

Today had started just like any other day. Mark got up and went about his morning, brushing his teeth, eating his breakfast, and taking his usual ten minutes to sketch the ideas in his brain before heading off to work.

It’d been slow, but Mark wasn’t worried. There were enough appointments on Saturday and Sunday to make up for a slow Friday. The temperature had reached an uncomfortable high, so he’d dressed himself in a black muscle tee to offer some relief from the sticky air.

The early afternoon went smoothly. Mark took the opportunity to work on some new designs and do some organizing in his tattoo room, while the other guys opted to sit around showing each other funny videos on their phones.

By the time lunch rolled around, he decided to sit outside with his iced coffee, scrolling through social media on his phone while relaxing in the shade of the awning. He glanced up mindlessly, his eyes drawn to a figure standing across the street.

A girl holding an ice cream cone. Mark’s breath caught in his throat because, no, it wouldn’t be you. You’d be back home, attending some tiny college where your parents could keep a watchful eye on your every move, not here in the great big city.

Then the girl dropped her ice cream cone, her whine audible even from where Mark sat. He couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips. He shook his head, just as there was a knock behind him on the glass of the door.

Dahyun popped her head out. “Youngjae needs help grabbing some boxes from the back, can you help? Jackson and Yugyeom are being assholes.”

Mark nodded, one last glance across the street before he stood up, heading back inside.

-----

You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as Mark pressed the tip of his tattoo gun to your skin. Just the constant buzzing of the tool was enough to set your nerves on edge.

Once you felt it, though, it wasn’t so bad. It hurt, but you’d been through worse. It was comparable to a thousand tiny kittens scratching you with their claws, over and over again.

“You doing alright?” Mark asked, once one long minute had passed.

You nodded, your arms squeezing the back of the chair you were straddling. It was an uncomfortable position, but it was the only way Mark would be able to access the back of your shoulder. You’d also had to strip down to just your bra, so at least you were given some modesty.

“Yeah. Just... how long will it take?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed how hard he was concentrating. His tongue was stuck between his lips, peeking out the corner. He was entirely focused on the art that he was tracing onto your skin.

“Not long. The shading is what will take the longest, but it’s small, so I should have you out of here within the hour.”

You exhaled slowly and pressed your forehead into the cushioned back of the chair as he went over the same area a few times. Though he muttered a ‘sorry’, you found yourself wincing from the pain.

Yerin had left to get ready for work, as the stenciling and position process had gone on longer than either of you had thought. You’d made Mark move the stencil several times until you liked the positioning. Admittedly, it had been a stalling tactic to delay the inevitable pain that was coming.

“How’s Taehyung?” Mark asked, just as he took a break from tracing onto your skin. You opened your eyes to see him reaching for a cloth to wipe across your skin.

The question caught you off guard. Just the name of your brother was enough to rub salt into the wound you’d been holding closed for the last two months. You gulped, turning your face to press your other cheek into the chair, hiding your expression.

“He’s good. He’s been in Japan for two years now, I think. He’s happy there.”

You barely even noticed Mark returning to your tattoo, the pain less noticeable while your mind was occupied.

“That’s good. I saw on Facebook he has a girlfriend now?”

You nodded. “Mhm. Her name’s Jennie--she seems nice.”

Mark didn’t need to know that you hadn’t spoken to your brother since the week before you moved to Seoul. He didn’t need to know you’d been avoiding his calls, texts, and e-mails. Most of them you deleted without even opening.

From what you knew, Taehyung and Mark had simply drifted once they both moved out of your tiny town and started creating a life for themselves. Taehyung spent his years after college roaming the world, taking photos and putting on exhibits until he secured a steady photography job for a Japanese magazine.

Mark moved before that, though you hadn’t known he’d moved to the city until today. You hadn’t ever been close to him besides the casual greeting when he’d be downstairs playing video games with Taehyung while you were doing homework.

When you were younger, you’d had an innocent crush on him, only because he was one of the few boys that paid you any attention. You’d only ever had a handful of conversations, but he was always polite and even helped you with your math homework once or twice. It really hadn’t taken much to impress you back then.

“So, how long have you been in the city?” Mark asked.

You were grateful for the slight change in subject. It was only a matter of time before he started asking about your parents, and you wouldn’t have been able to pretend any longer.

“A couple of months. I just… wanted a change,” you told him honestly.

Maybe you’d gotten more than you’d bargained for… but regardless, you were grateful for your newfound independence.

“I get it,” Mark replied. “Alright, outline is done. Now we’ll just have to shade. I’ll give you a few minutes, okay?”

You lifted your face from the back of the chair and sat up straight. “Can I see it?” you asked.

It took a moment for you to realize Mark’s ears were turning red because without the shield of the chair, your entire bra-clad chest was now on display for him. It didn’t help that you’d chosen a pink, lacy bra just because it was the first one you’d grabbed out of your laundry bag.

Quickly, you leaned forward again to cover yourself with the chair, biting forcefully onto your lip. You could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Sorry…” you said.

Mark cleared his throat and turned around, reaching for a handheld mirror on the table behind him. “It’s okay… I’ve definitely seen worse. Not that it was bad, or, well-”

It was obvious he’d put his foot in his mouth. You found yourself giggling, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. Mark looked as if he was desperate for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head at himself as he turned back around. “Here,” he said chuckling softly as he held up the mirror behind you so that you could see the work he’d already done.

You managed to stifle your giggles as you turned your head. It was no wonder Mark was known for pieces like this--his lines were crisp and clear, flowing in such a way that it looked as if your skin was born with this intricate design. You couldn’t wait to see how it looked when it was complete.

“Good?” he asked.

“I love it,” you said, smiling wide. “Makes the pain worth it.”

Mark looked pleased with your answer. He set the mirror down and got up, switching out the ink on his pen for the color he was going to use for the petals, a soft cool toned purple.

You resumed your position against the chair after a few more minutes, fists clenched as you prepared for the pain.

-----

It turned out not to be so bad. Mark kept you distracted, asking you questions about your experience in the city so far. When he sensed you avoiding the topic of home or your parents, he didn’t push.

Once he got your tattoo bandaged up, you sat around talking for another half an hour while he showed you photos of his drawings, as per your request. You’d never known that he was so talented.

“I guess I should be going,” you said after a lull in conversation. If you wanted to get back to your room before your roommate began their daily music blasting and loud video game routine, you’d need to head back.

“Where are you staying?” he asked, pulling off his gloves and washing his hands in the miniature sink against the wall.

“Just… this little place,” you answered. Little was an understatement.

When you’d moved out, you’d only had a suitcase and a finite amount of cash. It hadn’t exactly been planned, so your options were limited. You stayed in the first hostel you could find, and you were disappointed to find that the wages you received from serving couldn’t provide you with anything better.

You shared a room, currently with a Russian girl a few years older than you that seemed to only be staying in Seoul to play shooting games and blast ear-piercing rock metal. Your last roommate hadn’t been nearly as bad, but you weren’t having great luck.

“Here, I’m just finishing up for the day. Why don’t we grab a bite to eat, then I’ll take you home.”

Your efforts to refuse his offer were basically ignored. He gave you no choice as he led you out to the front room to pay for your tattoo, whispering something lowly to Dahyun as she wrote up your bill.

“Mark,” you said in protest once you saw the total. You didn’t know much about tattoo pricing, but you were sure this was significantly lower than it should have been.

“What? It’s a family and friends discount.”

You sighed. As much as you wanted to refuse his help, you had to admit you could take whatever discounts you could get. Tattoos were expensive and you certainly didn’t have the budget to get one as impulsively as you had today.

“I’ll get my stuff ready, then I’ll meet you outside, okay?” Mark asked and you nodded, watching as he walked off to his room.

“Family and friends, huh?” Dahyun asked, eyebrows raised as she watched you sign your receipt. “You must have gotten really close back there.”

You laughed, sliding the receipt back over the table. “It turns out, he used to be best friends with my older brother. So… family, I guess,” you said, though you never really saw him as such. No matter how many times your mother acted like he was her second son.

“Wow, small world,” Dahyun said as she handed over a sheet of paper with a list of bullet points on it. She went over the aftercare process, recommending the creams and ointments that she preferred, and ways to help it heal faster.

After thanking Dahyun over and over for her kindness, you gathered your things and waited outside of the front door for Mark.

When your day began, you never would have thought you’d be having dinner with your brother’s old best friend, bringing back memories you hadn’t quite been ready to revisit. But he was so sweet to you, so easy to talk to, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You didn’t want to say no.

You’d always admired Mark’s choice to move to Seoul straight out of school, with no plan and no connections to the city. And he only came back for holidays and special occasions. While you were hastily packing your clothes into a duffel bag, you remembered thinking briefly of him.

“Ready?” Mark asked from behind you as he exited the shop. The sunlight hit his skin, bringing your attention to the swirling designs upon his shoulder. The way his shirt was cut allowed you a peek of his ribs—you could see loopy cursive etched on his skin but you were unable to make it out.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you replied with a smile, tearing your eyes from his bare skin.

#writing #fanfic #got7 fanfic #mark tuan #mark tuan fanfic #mark fanfic #mark smut #mark angst #mark tuan smut #got7 scenario #got7 smut #got7 angst

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scripttorture · 4 years ago

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I have a weird scenario and i want to ask about its implications, mostly focusing on soliditary confinement aspects. So I am writing about this all powerful being who is immortal+eternally youthful (with a human like mind) who gets trapped in basically a big snowglobe created by his powers. Its a big mostly open space set inside a forest with a magic mansion to occupy him and provide him basic needs and the limits of the globe are very defined. {1/4}

{Weird anon} After some time alone he comes to create a friend to accompany him and make sure everything goes well during his absence using his powers. This friend can and does leave for periods of time to fullfill his duties but comes back. The being also realises during his imprisonment his powers dwindle with time and the globe starts to get smaller as he starts to age, meaning he will either die from old age or the globe shrinking. {2/4} {WA}After what he thinks must be a long time, his graying hair biggest indication, kids who knew about his legend come to discover him. They then bring him their older sibling, then their parents to talk and after some plot he gets to get some of his powers back and be free. (Posting my questions in the last part) {3/4} {WA} I was wondering if the confinement area being comfy and big, him having this friend would help during confinement? How could he react to aging/idea of dying? Although this isnt very possible in RL, could the fact he had to create this friend ,but mostly the fact he would have no one else if he didnt, get to him? How could he interract with kids/people who found him, i know people tend to have difficulty with interractions after time. Ty for your help! {4/4} {WA EXTRA} Forgot to mention these but 3 kids are 10 to 12, older sibling is 14-15, parents are mid thirties . Again, thank you for your time.

That’s an interesting fantasy scenario (and not even close to the weirdest thing I’ve been asked) thank you for sharing it :)

I think the first thing to grasp is that this character isn’t constantly in solitary confinement here and that’s a smart writing choice. You’ve got the character creating at least one companion and even though that companion isn’t always present that means it’s likely they’re both getting at least 1-2 hours of contact most of the time.

That doesn’t mean this isn’t a stressful situation and it doesn’t mean there are no periods of solitary confinement.

But it gives you leeway to make the effects of this fairly realistic even with the fantasy concept.

Having a big, comfortable space doesn’t really make a difference to how well people deal with isolation. Socialising is a physical need for social species like humans. But the presence of a companion makes the world of difference.

I think the first thing to decide is exactly how long it takes him to make his companion. A lot of people really overestimate the time we can withstand isolation.

For reference the safe period is about a week. After that most people will start to show symptoms and the symptoms are a lot more likely to persist after release. A month is more then enough time for the character to be seriously effected. A year is a really extreme amount of time. And by the time you start getting to multiple years the chances of suicide attempts are… significant.

With the kind of story you’re describing I get the impression you want long term effects but don’t want symptoms etc to take over the story. I think 1-3 months is a perfect time frame for that. The character would develop long term symptoms but it’s still in the realm where it’s survivable. Which means it’s less likely to take over the whole narrative.

You’ve probably seen my masterpost on solitary confinement but here it is again just in case :) I really recommend Shalev’s Sourcebook on Solitary Confinement which is linked as one of the sources on the post.

As with the symptoms of torture more generally you’ve got some scope to choose symptoms because not everyone will experience every single symptom. There’s still some debate about how common individual symptoms are. However broadly depression and anxiety seem to be very common and hallucinations are less common (though they seem to become more likely the longer someone is confined). It’s a good idea to pick a mix of physical and psychological symptoms.

If you choose insomnia as a symptom remember that sleep deprivation also causes problems which you can read about in the masterpost here.

If this is your first time writing something like this then picking out symptoms can be daunting. I try to think of it in terms of what adds to the story. I try to consider the characters, plot and overall themes. Symptoms that give you opportunities to show aspects of the character’s personality, change their relationship with other characters, highlight themes in the story and/or create interesting problems in the plot later on are all good picks.

It’s also important to consider what you’re comfortable writing and what you feel able to write. If you don’t want to write self harm for example that’s a perfectly good reason for ruling out that symptom.

I have a post that outlines my process for picking symptoms that might be helpful for you. :)

I think that brings us round to the more fantasy side of the questions.

I’ll be honest and say that I don’t know how people generally deal with the idea that they’re going to die soon. I suspect that there’d be a lot of individual variation. I think you’ll get the best answers by looking up charities that support people with terminal illnesses.

I found a couple of links at Marie Curie that might serve as a starting point. There’s this page on palliative care. This general page (with lots of links and first hand accounts) of living with a terminal illness. You might find this page about emotionally processing a terminal diagnosis helpful.

I would treat the emotional issues around the created companion the same as a character who is reliant on only one person for their social needs. Which can put a lot of weird strains on a relationship.

I’m not a psychologist and what I say here is based on impressions I gained from interviews with people who are very isolated. If you see a mental health professional or someone who studies isolation more seriously saying something different take their word over mine. Because my reading and knowledge is broad rather then deep.

Relying on one person for all your social needs isn’t healthy. We all have different needs and it’s a lot easier for those needs to be met when we’re interacting with more then one person. Being entirely reliant on one person puts a lot of pressure on that person. It can make it seem like any problems or issues the more isolated person has are the other person’s fault.

Because they’re not magically meeting all of someone’s needs. And I say ‘magically’ because it’s almost impossible for one person to do the ‘job’ of a dozen people.

There can be a lot of guilt, resentment and anger floating around in this sort of dependant relationship. Even when both parties are genuinely trying their best and trying to be healthy.

Any depressive period or severe mood swing on the part of the reliant character might be interpreted as failure by the companion. As if it’s their job to ‘fix’ the mental health problems he has. And that can lead to a lot of internalised guilt and shame.

Conversely being aware of how dependant he is could make the confined character resent the comparative freedom of his companion. They get to leave. They’ll survive the end of this snow-globe. They’ve never had to be alone as he was.

The companion has a lot of power in this scenario because the confined character is entirely reliant on them. They also have the power to leave. Knowing that can breed resentment, whether it’s rational or not. And if it’s irrational and ‘undeserved’ that can lead to a degree of self hatred and guilt.

For both parties anger at each other and the situation seems likely. Not necessarily all the time but I think it’s likely to come up over and over again.

The companion has their own desires and wants. But the confined character is entirely dependant on them and may well expect them to drop everything to help him/meet his socialisation needs. And the thing is that’s unfair on both of them, because the situation is unfair.

That’s not a critique of the story. It’s unfair for the confined character to expect the companion to be able to meet all his needs and to drop everything to help him. But it’s also not unreasonable for the confined character to grasp at his only option for fulfilling a fundamental need.

I think that if you wanted to treat this ‘realistically’ then it would lead to a pretty unhealthy co-dependant relationship however much both characters tried to avoid that.

But you do have the ability to reduce or avoid that in your story. Because you choose the rules for how this companion feels, acts and behaves.

The confined character may be human-like but in a lot of ways the companion does not have to be. A realistic human-like person would not be able to support all the social needs of another person. But there’s no reason the companion has to be that human.

If you do choose to deviate from a more human-like character I think my advice would be to think through any changes you make logically. And be consistent. If for instance the character can’t feel angry or resentful towards their creator think through what that might mean.

Which leaves the final question about interacting with others and how difficult that can be after periods of isolation.

The exact way this effects interactions depends chiefly on the symptoms you pick out and the character’s personality.

Generally mentally ill people do not want to be assholes or upset other people. But we do tend to have greater difficulties interacting with people and our social interactions can go badly in ways that healthy people don’t tend to experience.

For instance say we have a character who has a severe anxiety disorder and this disorder is often set off by noises they don’t expect. That’s a fairly common symptom and a fairly common trigger for it.

That means that kids running around, shouting or just talking loudly about something that excites them, could set off an anxiety attack.

Some people would get angry in that situation. Because they’re in pain and, even though they did not mean to, those kids ‘caused’ that pain.

Some people would abruptly remove themselves from the situation. Which could leave the kids wondering why/how they upset their new friend so much.

Some people would stick around and not blame the kids. But they might have visible signs of their anxiety attack that could be very frightening for a child who doesn’t understand what’s going on. If an adult they care about suddenly starts shaking and breathing hard and needs to sit down and looks pale- Well worry is natural. And it’s difficult to explain triggers/mental health problems while you’re in the middle of an anxiety attack.

So there’s a set of issues that are symptom driven and around the extra difficulties interacting while mentally ill. There’s also a set of issues around… basically forgetting how to socialise.

This doesn’t necessarily mean being age in-appropriate.

I think the best way to think about it is a combination of finding it harder to interpret other people’s emotional cues and being less aware of the cues they’re sending out themselves. It might take longer for the character to realise they’ve upset someone or they might misidentify the other person’s emotional response.

They might also think less before they speak. Which can mean things like- I guess not moderating what they say to account for other people’s feelings? They might come across as blunt or thoughtless or scatter brained as they jump from one topic to another. They might also have less of a grasp of when to give the other person space and let them speak.

The biggest thing I see survivors of solitary report is that normal social interaction makes them much more anxious/nervous then it did before they were confined. Socialising has a bigger ‘cost’ then before, in terms of energy and emotional impact.

And this often means they withdraw from it more quickly. They need to take breaks. Or they start getting more stressed and frustrated.

I think the main thing to navigate here would be how to explain these conditions and needs to children in a way that doesn’t seem like it’s blaming the kids. Which is certainly possible, but can take some time and care to get right.

I think I’ll leave it there and if you’ve got any further questions drop them in when the ask box reopens. I hope that helps :)

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#writing advice #tw torture #tw suicide #tw self harm #tw cancer #fantasy ask #solitary confinement #effects of solitary confinement #isolation #writing survivors #torture survivors and relationships #unhealthy relationships #terminal illness #writing symptoms

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fermented-writers-block · 5 years ago

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Just recently, I stumbled across @owls-house‘s post on MSN’s article about some of the first look details of The Owl House while looking through some of the older posts about upcoming news on the show before it came out, and this particular section caught my eye in light of everything we currently know about the Boiling Isles and the cast of the show:

The Owl House:

The Owl House is a living structure that Eda has charmed so that she could live there and be safe from outside forces. Quaint and cottage-like on the outside, with a storefront facade, the inside of the Owl House is full of secret rooms, with a labyrinth for a basement. Hooty, the door knocker, serves as the home’s defense system.

Given how the Owl House is supposed to be Eda’s safe haven and how she hasn’t really shown that much of an interest in puzzle solving and mysteries, the two bolded details immediately stood out to me.

I mean, from what we’ve seen of her, Eda has never really struck me as someone who’d construct or even want to deal with a labyrinth in the first place - particularly one that’s completely unnecessary if its supposed to be a basement to simply just store things in - and I very much doubt Eda would install a whole bunch of secret rooms into her house that presumably go unused when she likes to collect things so often, let alone go through all the trouble of making entire rooms dedicated to being secret when we’ve seen her be content with the amount of rooms she already uses.

And that’s without asking where and what the heck these secret rooms are supposed to be about specifically, as while they are secret and thus understandably not generally supposed to be easily found, they would have to be VERY small rooms to fit inside with the relative dimensions of all the rooms we’ve seen so far compared to the size of the exterior, and that’s without asking about what purpose they would even serve.

As for the apparent labyrinth, such a word tends to evoke the image of some incredibly huge and complex maze-like structure with single overall path and no dead ends - although it’s often been used interchangeably used with ‘maze,’ which is basically a labyrinth with dead ends, so who knows what it actually looks like here - and yet there is no sign of any kind of tunnel when an animated Hooty stood up in Hooty’s Moving Hassle let alone hardly any implied space for the kind of grand, sprawling structure the word ‘labyrinth’ evokes.

Now, I’ve brought this up in my last theory about the Owl House as a structure, but as a brief summary, I deduced that it is not a place that Eda had constructed completely all on her own, but rather an amalgamation of a bunch of parts of different buildings that had gotten attached to one center section: aka the middle part of the house with white brickwork - or the Owl Temple as I’ve dubbed it before.

And after looking through the flooring and walls of the rooms we’ve seen so far of the Owl House, I’ve concluded that the labyrinth at the very least is located or accessible from either underneath the carpet in the living room:

Or somewhere inside the parapet/battlement thing that serves as the floor of Eda’s balcony:

Obviously, considering the likely size of both of these rooms in relation to the dimensions of the house, they must be hidden away by magic, whether it be through magical pocket dimensions or the like, but this just raises the questions of why these rooms exist in the first place.

For me, I can see only two possible explanations for both questions, both of which I’ve outlined extensively down below:

TLDR: Either the original people who used the Owl Temple a long time ago had build those rooms into it, or they are a potentially significant part of Hooty’s biology as the house itself

Option 1: They were built by the original inhabitants of the Owl Temple

Like I’ve discussed before, I suspect that - from the owl mural and the way the curtains are arranged - the living room used to be used as an altar or ritual room for some kind of owl spirit/deity, so following off that kind of conclusion, it’s possible that the rest of the temple was designed in a similar fashion related to the Owl Deity.

Perhaps these secret rooms are only unlockable through puzzles and riddles to play into how owls are usually portrayed as wise old creatures, hiding away ‘treasures’ not of gold and wealth, but rather of information and books. Maybe these secret rooms could have been like places of study where one could peruse ancient tomes or collect knowledge without being disturbed, or they could simply be full on ordinary rooms that people lived and slept in but with doors that can only be unlocked in a particular way ala the Ravenclaw dorms in Harry Potter.

As for the labyrinth, it could have been meant as a way to test one’s mind and observation skills/as part of one’s initiation, requiring an attentive eye to detail or such to figure out the one single route in and out of it. Maybe it holds some kind of great secret of knowledge or an important ancient artifact that only those who can figure out the path can find/use.

Of course, there IS the small chance it functioned more like a quirky cult with the labyrinth posing as part of kind of bizarre ritual or being used for sacrificial duty, but I very much doubt that this would even get past the censors let alone even got implemented with how un-cult-like the glimpses of the base design of the Owl Temple has been so far.

That said, given how I’ve speculated that something happened that led to the Owl Temple being abandoned, falling into disrepair and obscurity long before Eda first discovered it, she likely has next to absolutely no idea about the existence of at least most of these rooms, so it would be interesting to see exactly how the cast will eventually and inevitably find and explore these hidden rooms and labyrinth, especially with the chance at discovering long-forgotten knowledge or even uncovering dark secrets and old truths that have been suppressed and forgetten by the present day.

However, though I think this explanation and ramifications thereof would be interesting to explore in its own right, I can’t help but think that the second, more likely explanation would easily expand upon and add quite the intrigue to a particular character I’ve had my eye on for a good while:

OPTION 2: They are a part of Hooty and are only increasing in size and number as he grows

We all know that Hooty IS the house itself as demonstrated by his manipulation of various parts of the structure and from statements by Eda, but whereas the prior explanation was based on the idea that the old inhabitants had created the secret rooms and labyrinth themselves before Hooty came into the equation, here I’d like to propose that the rooms are a side result of Hooty slowly regenerating back into a full sized Owl Temple.

With the kind of importance and likely amount of people that would be present or living in such a place, it seems rather likely that what we see of the Owl Temple in the Owl House is but a small-ish remnant of the entire thing, especially with the doorframe in Eda’s room that most likely connected to another section or large area that she either couldn’t salvage in an intact-enough state or didn’t care about to bring with her.

However, though Eda’s additions seems to have been integrated relatively neatly with what she found of the Owl Temple for Hooty to probably be able to affect them, they are likely nowhere near enough to make up for the rest of the missing Temple.

As such, Hooty could potentially and unknowingly be growing new rooms to make up for the rest of the Temple - kind of like a yolk becoming a baby chick inside of its shell, forming organs and bones and etc until it’s big and strong enough to emerge.

Though here, instead of breaking apart the foundations and outside of the Owl House entirely, perhaps this transformation would be more like the structure suddenly expanding outwards and quickly stretching everything about itself similar a video about plant growth on fast forward, up until the outer dimensions match the ever increasing inner dimensions.

With this kind of analogy, it’d make sense why Eda wouldn’t know about these rooms and why Hooty wouldn’t bring them up, as to the former, they literally weren’t there when she salvaged what she could of the Temple, and for the latter, they’re just such a natural part of his body that he simply doesn’t notice.

Now, why I think that this would add an interesting layer of mystique to Hooty’s character is because of the important question of - if and when he finds out about these rooms - whether Hooty would be able to consciously control their structure and arrangement however he wants.

After all, if the answer is YES, then we might get to begin to see the full capacity of both Hooty’s power and his patience if he gets ticked off and decides to turn the inside of the house into this:

It would not only be an amazing opportunity for some glorious mind screwy animation with the transformation of a location we’ve all become accustomed to into something straight out of M C Escher’s nightmares, but would also give an opportunity to build Hooty’s character MUCH further beyond the complete butt monkey he’s been portrayed as.

Outside of Eda calling him a “state of the art defense system” in the first episode, he has barely gotten any respect and has never been treated seriously compared to even King. And even when he seems to have temporarily died in The Intruder given the crossed-out eyes and the lights going out in the house when they’re apparently directly controlled by him, Luz and King didn’t really stay that concerned for long. Heck, King was more annoyed at hearing Hooty’s voice again rather than being happy that he was still alive.

After enduring all of that, it’s a wonder that Hooty hasn’t snapped any sooner, so how he’d react when he finally can get people to listen to him without them being able to just simply ignore him or leave would open up the gates to his inner psyche and how he really feels about everyone and the way they treat him.

Exactly how he’d manipulate the interior dimensions would be extremely telling of what kind of character he truly is at heart, what with the sheer kind of power trip from being in complete control over such a space vs how he would be calmed down from it, AND it’d mark a major and permanent shift in how everyone treats the being they live in on a daily basis due to how much mutual trust and respect both Hooty and his inhabitants would likely have to rebuild in each other to be able to go about their day and keep their relationships intact.

That, and it’d be a REALLY interesting glimpse into the full eldritch nature of a house with many more rooms on the inside than the outside suggests, one that actually has a mind and consciousness to drive it and thus one that you don’t really want to piss off if you can. Just think of all the fun horror/mind screw that could be done with such an episode about this.

Of course, this does bring into question exactly what is the deal with the labyrinth, but running off the seemingly one-time joke from the first episode where - instead of simply opening the door like he’s done in every other episode - Hooty lets everyone in by opening his mouth and even burping, the entire living room could easily be equated as Hooty’s stomach.

I’ve discussed this with @sepublic a bit, but because of how he can stretch vertically instead of just his neck as shown above, as well as the likely placement of the labyrinth underneath the living room, I suspect that the labyrinth might be doubling as Hooty’s intestines given the way real intestines fold and twist around while also having one single route through them like a labyrinth does.

That, and that Hooty may have gained Eda’s trust as a good enough defense system for her to rely on by being able to do this to whoever tries to attack the house from time to time:

I would not be surprised if Luz or Eda or whoever checks out the labyrinth later in the series might find the remains of some of Eda’s old enemies down there.

That said, considering how much bigger the original Owl Temple might possibly be than the Owl House, Hooty would likely require quite a LOT of material/energy to build back those rooms and other parts of the Temple. And given how he doesn’t exactly seem to passively be feeding off ambient magic or something alongside the comparison to intestines, well...

It just makes one wonder just what state those remains are in, let alone how recognizable they even still are in the first place.

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house theory #owl house theory #hooty #speculation #long post #amnesiac owl deity hooty theory

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f-nodragonart · 4 years ago

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Vertebrate Wings, PART 2: Membranes and Feathers

Return to main post + TOC >>HERE<<

Membranes and Feathers TOC

Membranes

Feather Arrangement

Feather Layering

Feather Shape

Combinations

Membranes

A common question I see in relation to bat-like (and sometimes pterosaur-like) wings: Can a creature fly if the wing membrane only attaches to the armpit of the wing? Can massive wings make up for the lack of membrane?

Short answer: No.

Long answer in the form of a numbered list of problems with these sorts of wings:

1) Wing membranes (and feathers) need to SUPPORT and STABILIZE the whole animal’s body in the air. Without membrane attached along the length of the body, the torso is left to dangle limply and awkwardly below the wing shoulders. This couldn’t work because:

a. As I explain in more detail in the Full-body Integration section, flight is a ~primarily~ horizontal affair (the obvious exception being hoverers, but I cover this in the Flight section). A limply-hanging body would increase drag and air resistance to an absurd degree compared to the typical streamlined body position of a flying bird or bat. While flight is primarily driven by the wings, it really is a full-body affair.

b. The weight of the ENTIRE creature would be localized to the wing shoulder, which would make for excruciatingly painful flight at the VERY least. The membrane helps distribute the weight of the body over a wider surface area so that no one centralized point is pulling too much weight. (again, hovering flight is an exception to this, but this is largely due to the tiny body weight of a typical hoverer)

2) ~Generally~ evolution is lazy. The theoretical length of the wings necessary to make up for the lack of membrane would use up a ridiculous amount of energy—energy that evolution isn’t likely to waste. Especially considering that the length of these theoretical wings would have to be accomplished through lengthened fingers, which are more complicated and use up more developmental energy than simple membrane extension.

3) These lengthened wings would theoretically be freakin’ MASSIVE to make up for the lack of membrane. I can only imagine they’d be too heavy and/or too long to realistically function. They’d more likely drag uselessly along the ground as the animal attempted to use too-long muscles and tendons to lift them up.

4) “The creature wouldn’t be able to flap their wings when flying. Wings act like a lever; the less wing membrane you have close to the body, the further out lift and air resistance act on them and the more force you need for each wingbeat. If you attach wing membrane at the armpit, then so much force would be needed that the dragon would have difficulty moving them on ground, never mind during flight. Adding more arm strength to overcome it is not an option because there’s only so much muscle you can add without running into many more problems,” thank you Rahjital~

This all applies to feathered wings as well—bodies need support during flight, and these sorts of feathered wings aren’t gonna provide any.

The back edge isn’t the only important part of the membrane—the front edge is highly important as well! This section of the membrane is known as the propatagium.

It provides a smooth, sloping curvature to the front edge of the wing (something the bare arms could not provide on their own), and helps stabilize the position of the wing through the tendon connecting the shoulder and wrist (or thumb/pteroid, depending on the wing).

This structure is present in ALL vertebrate wings—bats, pterosaurs, and yes, even birds.

It’s simply not very apparent in birds because this membrane is covered by feathers. Remember kids, bird arms aren’t rounded noodles—it’s the propatagium that gives bird wings their smooth outline!

Bats wings have hair-thin muscles across their membranes to help tense and otherwise manipulate the wing shape as needed. I actually had a hard time finding good diagrams of these muscles, sans this one EXCELLENT reference for the muscles and major veins (+skeleton) via edited versions SammyTorres drew of photo of a museum reference.

(had to cut it off to preserve image quality, but u can see the original reference photo at the link)

As for pterosaur wings, there’s still debate over how exactly the membranes were structured, but there is at least agreement on the existence of multiple layers of actinofibrils embedded in the membrane. As quoted from exdraghunt, “Pterosaur wings were stiffened with unique fibers called “actinofibrals”. These fibers can be thought of as being like the wooden battens of a paper fan, or the quills of bird’s feathers. They allowed the wing to spread out to full span, or to fold up tightly against the body, while keeping the membrane stiff enough for flight. These fibers became shorter and less regular closer to the body, so that the membrane closer to the body of the animal had more flexibility compared to the parts out at the wingtip. The fibers start out perpendicular to the arm, and shift to parallel with the wing finger out at the wingtip.”

(via)

This made pterosaur membranes much stiffer than bat membranes, but still more flexible than bird feathers in terms of delicate maneuvering and camber-control.

Also, here’s a cool diagram dissecting the layers of pterosaur membrane~

Feather Arrangement

The first thing we need to get straight here is that the main flight feathers of a wing—the remiges (singular: remex)—sprout EXCLUSIVELY from the “hand” and lower arm sections of the skeleton.

The shoulder may be the source of thrust in the wing, but the “hand” and lower arm are the actual “paddle” used to beat against the air. As we can see in the below diagram, the tertiaries (which are embedded in the FLESH of the upper arm, NOT the bone) simply fill in the space left between the remiges and the main body.

In my own research (of Googling reference photos), I’ve found that the secondary remiges tend to gradually decrease in length closer to the elbow, tapering down until the tertials are able to fill in the gaps. This may not necessarily be true for all wings, but this is the trend I’ve picked up on.

idk what the deal is, but there are almost zero references for the underside of a bird wing, so I took the liberty of making my own reference, traced/edited from these photos of crow wings. (“edited” in that I emphasized a few feather bits that aren’t quite as “pronounced” on actual crow wings, but were drawn in for the sake of illustrating their general position. the axillaries, for example, were referenced from plovers.)

The coverts (when it comes to flight) exist to smooth out the transition from arm to remex, covering the entire arm/hand section and then some.

It’s important to note that the lesser/median primary coverts DO EXIST on the dorsal side of the wing, they’re just reduced compared to the much longer greater primary coverts, so the lesser/median coverts are usually covered by the alula (this is another detail I emphasized/edited in the above ref—the lesser/median primary dorsal-side coverts aren’t actually visible with the current position of the alula on a crow wing). I don’t have references for why the feathers in this section are sized/arranged in this manner, but I think it may be due to the presence of the alula. Either way, you can usually get away with not including the lesser/median primary coverts in most wings/positions, but it is important to know they exist for those special occasions they do make an appearance.

(via^)

The alula is the section of feathers that sprouts from the “thumb” of the underlying skeleton (this can be seen in the remex skeletal of the wing I posted higher up), and helps to increase lift by smoothing out air flow over the primaries. The feathers of the alula are situated on the topside on the wing, over the primary coverts and under the secondary coverts.

As a side note, the wing reference I drew is just a BASIC guide to feather arrangement. Depending on the shape and flight style of the wing, the feather “sections” can vary quite a lot, as can be seen below.

The reference I drew is just a guide to help you identify these sections of feathers in other wings more easily, even if they look quite a bit different than the wing I drew.

Feather Layering

Now for the information I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for—the detail that artists the world over struggle desperately with: feather layering.

I could just tell you all that the LEADING edge of the remiges is seen on the TOPSIDE/DORSAL view, while the TRAILING edge of the remiges is seen on the UNDERSIDE/VENTRAL view, and that will be correct.

(via^)

HOWEVER, I find that I much more easily retain design information if I know WHY a particular structure is designed that way in the first place. So, here I leave you a very informative analysis of remex arrangement and how it effects flight.

youtube

While I do highly suggest watching the whole video—especially for the helpful animations—I understand that it's a long sit with dry delivery, so the main takeaway is this:

Remiges are arranged as they are in order to minimize drag on the upstroke by allowing air to filter through the feathers and under the body, thereby pushing the body up in the process.

If the remiges were theoretically arranged opposite from this, they would filter air AWAY from the body on the upstroke, thereby sucking the body down and rendering the thrust on the downstroke null.

Now, it’s important to keep in mind that this reasoning applies more strictly to the remiges compared to the other feathers. While it’s incredibly important for the remiges to be in proper arrangement, the coverts are a little more lenient, considering they just smooth out the wing. The median/greater coverts do follow the arrangement of the remiges per which side of the wing they sprout from (and lesser coverts are layered in a more-or-less “shingles” pattern), but real-life coverts tend to be a lot messier than “ideal” coverts.

Covert arrangement (particularly that of lesser/medians) can be “goofed” a little without too much problem; It’s remex arrangement that can make or break flight.

Also note how this feather layering effects the layering of wing “sections” when the wing folds up (which will be discussed in more detail in the Positions section).

Feather Shape

Feather shape is also a critical factor in wing design (and even full-body design), BUT to tackle shape, we must first understand some basic feather anatomy.

There are quite a few bits here that I’m not rly gonna get into (mostly because I myself understand feathers more in the greater scheme of a wing/body than individually), but it is important to note a few specific features, here.

The shaft is the base upon which the barbs sprout from, and where the feather itself connects to the body via the calamus(quill). Note that the barbs (at least in the pennaceous portion) ALWAYS sprout from the shaft at an outward angle. They do NOT point at a 90 degree angle straight out from the shaft, nor point backwards towards the quill, but FORWARDS towards the feather tip. This is most likely a mechanism for both reducing drag and creating a more stable interlocking of barbs.

The pennaceous portion is what’s visible to the open air, so the barbs must be designed to handle what is required, such as a relative stability/stiffness for the remiges of the wings, a drag-resistant design for feathers of the body, etc. etc.

The plumaceous portion is typically hidden beneath other feathers, so isn’t necessary to draw in most designs. It’s just important to know about the fluffy plumaceous bits that exist underneath for those occasions that the feathers are lifted apart.

*note-- not all feathers have an afterfeather/shaft as shown in the first diagram-- this is most common to grouse, and is kind of like having extra down.

This is just a basic rundown of feather anatomy I’d reason to be useful to artists, but if you’d like a more in-depth discussion of feathers, I suggest this page.

Now knowing this basic feather anatomy, we can look at the diverse shapes and forms feathers can take. As has been shown in the feather types above, feathers can vary quite a lot depending on their purpose. The primary remiges, in fact, have a unique set of anatomical terms to help describe the shapes they can take.

(via^)

It’s important to note, here, that at least part of the reason that the primary remiges in particular are so diversely shaped is due their being the “flight manipulation” feathers of the wings. While coverts smooth out the wing and secondary remiges provide ample surface area, it’s the primary remiges that really determine a bird’s particular style of flight (I’ll get into some of these basic flight types more in the Flight section).

It’s also important to note that the “drag direction” for any feather—remex or otherwise—is essential in planning their shape (it’s just much easier to identify in remiges). See how the barbs on the leading side of these primary remiges is much shorter than the barbs on the trailing side?

(via^)

This is because the leading side, as can be assumed, must meet air resistance head-on, so the shorter barbs provide a stiffer, more stable surface to push against oncoming air currents. The trailing side, on the other hand, provides the main surface area of the feather, so the barbs can be longer.

This asymmetrical balance of barb length changes depending on where the feather is on the wing, so it’s no surprise that the primary remex barb lengths are much more asymmetrical compared to the secondary remex barb lengths, since these barbs don’t directly push against the air on either side of the feather.

(via^)

Though keep in mind that the shafts still “lean” more towards the leading edge here, so as to properly tilt against the air on the upstroke.

This feather diversity doesn’t just apply to different feather types—even the exact same feathers of the exact same basic type can vary DRASTICALLY when compared between different species. Just look at the differences between the above wood duck primary remiges and the primary remiges of a sharp-skinned hawk below.

(via^)

Thus, when designing the feathers (particularly the remiges/rectrices) of a creature, you need to understand the creature’s specific form of flight, and the purpose of certain sets of feathers.

(The USFWS Feather Atlas provides EXCELLENT scans of the remiges and rectrices (main tail feathers) of TONS of different bird species, if you’d like to see more scans like these.)

Combinations

Combination feather/membrane wings are somewhat popular, and while they’re improbable I wouldn’t say they’re impossible. Improbable, because evolution would likely choose one or the other for a full wing (taking into account the energy available during development, as we’ve discussed). Or, at the very least, make the feather bits more fur-like than the rounded, complicated designs of typical coverts.

The only impossible combo-wings I could think of are webbed wings that have ALL the wing feathers—remiges included. Remiges are meant EXCLUSIVELY for flight—if the wing already has a membrane (a membrane which takes up much more energy to build than feathers), then there’s no need for additional remiges. In fact, these lengthy feathers would detract from what makes the bat wing so practical—its ability to “collapse” and otherwise bend and stretch in precise movements. Remiges would only block the bat wings’ ability to properly bend.

Not to mention, these feathers would break up the smooth/streamlined quality of these wings if they were to reach that far out over the membrane. Think about it—bird wings only have one layer of remiges, creating one smooth surface, and bats only have one layer of webbing, also creating a single smooth surface. Webbed wings with remiges on BOTH sides (or even on ONE side) would create multiple surfaces that would somehow need to lay flat against each other (but likely wouldn’t due to their nature). And that isn’t even to mention that remiges need a stable bone base to properly attach to, which the bat wrist/hand couldn’t provide, considering it already must support the fingers themselves, let alone primary remiges.

Covert feathers, on the other hand, are mainly there to create a smooth transition from the front edge of the wing to the remiges (and are embedded in flesh rather than bone). Thus, I could see their potential use in bat-like wings for the same reason, so long as they aren’t large enough to interfere with membrane/finger flexibility.

-Mod Spiral

#wings #anatomy #mod spiral #membranes #feathers

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ryqoshay · 4 years ago

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Tri-Arame: All Work, No Play

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~3.1k Rating: G Time Frame: The end of their second week of college Story Arc: Setsu’s Ceaseless Study Session Study All Day? Study All Night? A Nap a Day All Work, No Play

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Author’s Note: My original outline for this arc stopped at the previous chapter, but as I was was close to finishing, I realized there were still a couple threads I wanted to tie up. So here we are.

Also, this is the first chapter I’ve written that flatly gives the name of the company employing Setsu, instead of my former vague hints. For readers unfamiliar with my other work, How to Handle a Nico, Egao Jōshō is an idol production company founded by Nico and Tsubasa and it is probably my favorite point of connection among my three non-AU fics.

Also also, Heavenly Life is a doujin created by Riko.

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Ayumu opened her eyes and reached up to the headboard to grab her phone. The device she touched first happened to be Yuu’s, but that was fine. She unlocked it and checked the time. It was Saturday, so she could sleep in a little longer, but there were things that she wanted to do before the Live that night.

She pushed herself up to her hands and knees and crawled backward to the end of the bed. There, she climbed over the footboard, which she was thankful wasn’t much higher than the mattress. Standing, she took a moment to look at the other two girls still in her bed, as she had every morning this week since Setsuna started joining her and Yuu.

Part of her couldn’t get over how adorable they were, snuggled together like that. Setsuna had pressed herself almost flush against Yuu’s back. Ayumu wondered if she was worried about rolling off the edge or if her bond with Yuu was just that strong that she was comfortable doing that.

And that was the other part. Ayumu couldn’t help feeling a little left out, wondering why neither would do that with her. Would it help if she turned the other way? But she liked facing Yuu, seeing her face before falling asleep and again upon waking. And if the other two ended up swapping, she was certain she would be just as happy seeing Setsuna in the same way.

Maybe Yuu was hesitant? No, with as openly affectionate as Yuu had been with her the entire time they had known each other, that simply could not be the case.

Maybe Yuu was waiting for Ayumu to make the first move? That still didn’t seem likely, but it was probably more possible than the other option. Perhaps then she should make that first move and snuggle against Yuu? Maybe even tonight?

Heat gathered in Ayumu’s cheeks at the thought of doing what Setsuna seemed to have no issue doing. But why? It wasn’t like Ayumu hadn’t initiated physical affection on numerous occasions, from simple hugs, to leaning into Yuu while watching something, to holding hands while walking. Heck she’d done most of that with Setsuna as well. Why did it feel different when it involved a bed or sleeping? Was it because it implied other activities? Activities she had certainly imagined multiple…

Ayumu shook her head in a vain attempt to dissipate the deepening blush, or at least shake loose those thoughts. Turning on her heel, she headed toward her dresser to begin her morning routine.

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“Alright, we’re heading out.” Ayumu announced after she had finished putting on her shoes. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, Setsuna-chan?”

The girl still sitting at the kotatsu in the middle of the room looked up from her laptop. “I’m sorry.” She declined. “I just don’t want to fall behind.”

“But are you actually behind at this point?” Yuu inquired.

Setsuna blinked as though not expecting the question. “I’m… I’m not sure…”

“You’ve been studying almost non-stop for two weeks, Setsuna-chan” Yuu continued. “And while your determination is admirable, surely they can’t expect everyone to be so diligent, or even be able to dedicate that much time.”

“Hrm…”

“Perhaps you could email your instructor?” Ayumu suggested. “Or your program mentor? Surely one of them would be able to let you know how your progress compared to other students, or just general expectations.”

Setsuna considered the idea for a moment. “I can do that.” She confirmed after a moment. “But I probably won’t hear back from either until Monday. So, while I would love to join you two, for now, to be safe, I’ll stay here today.”

“Alright.” Ayumu relented. “We’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Have fun.” Setsuna replied before turning attention back to her screen.

Yuu closed the door behind them and she and Ayumu began heading down the hall.

“I hope we can at least convince her to come to the event tonight.” Yuu said quietly.

“Yeah…” Ayumu agreed, wondering what they could say or do to convince their stubbornly studious friend.

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Setsuna stretched and yawned before checking the time. A quick break should be alright, she decided and pushed herself out from under the table. She then made her way over to the kitchenette area where she filled the electric kettle and turned it on.

As she prepared the coffee grounds, she considered how much she had consumed recently. Ayumu was diligent in keeping a fresh supply despite rarely drinking it herself. Setsuna smiled at the thought of her friend’s kindness and decided she should get the next supply. She considered what places she could stop while on the way to the studio but then wondered if she should just have some delivered.

With a fresh refill of caffeine in hand, Setsuna headed back to the table to resume her studies. But before that, she quickly opened a new browser tab to check where she could order coffee online.

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“We’re back.” A voice announced as the dormroom door opened.

Setsuna looked up over her laptop and smiled as her friends entered. “Welcome back.”

“We got something for you, Setsuna-chan!” Yuu said excitedly, yanking off her shoes before moving quickly across the room. “Kope pan!” She pulled the sandwich out of her bag and presented it proudly.

“Thank you.” Setsuna said, accepting gracefully.

“Yuu-chan actually bought it.” Ayumu pointed out as she moved to the cupboards.

“Well, yeah, but Ayumu was the one to pick it out because it reminded her of Yotomi’s favorite. So, it’s from both of us.”

Setsuna chuckled at Yuu’s insistence as she inspected the package. It did indeed look similar to the snack commonly ordered by the protagonists of one of the anime series they had watched last season.

“Anyway, we decided to make a meal out of it all and picked up some other stuff.” Yuu began to pull other food items from her bag.

“And we brought it back here because we thought it would be more fun to eat together.” Ayumu added, arriving with a set of glasses. She distributed them to each place at the table before producing a bottle of one of her favorite brands of tea from her bag.

“Thank you.” Setsuna said again, feeling warmth spread in her chest at her friends’ thoughtfulness.

“And there’s one more thing.” Ayumu pulled another item from her bag and held it out.

Setsuna’s breath hitched as she recognized the latest book in the Heavenly Life doujin series she had been following online since before it had even started being published in physical form.

“I… I didn’t realize the new one was out…” She admitted, accepting the book.

“Mm.” Yuu nodded. “Earlier this week, it seems. I missed it too because I’m used to relying on Setsuna-chan for release schedules.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s no biggie.” Yuu dismissed. “I know you were busy studying. Though I will admit I’ve missed our anime nights lately.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologizing.” Yuu reached out to gently swat Setsuna atop her head. “Anyway, I got a copy for my collection and Ayumu bought this one for you.”

“Yes, but Yuu-chan had the idea to look to see if there was stock left” Ayumu interjected “and was the one to find them, so that’s from both of us as well.”

Setsuna chuckled at her friends’ insistence on sharing credit.

“Thank you, Ayumu-san, Yuu-san.” She turned her head to address each as she said their names before returning her attention to the doujin in her hand. “I’ll pay you back in…”

“Nope.” Yuu interrupted.

“Eh?”

“If you insist on doing something in return, just come with us next time.” Yuu grinned.

“Once your mentor or instructor is able to tell you how far ahead you are.” Ayumu added.

“Mm?” Setsuna questioned.

“I think it’s a safe assumption to make, based on how hard you’ve been working.” Ayumu explained. “But Yuu-chan is right, we do miss hanging out with you, Setsuna-chan.”

“I’m sor…” Setsuna cut herself off as she noticed Yuu’s expression of disapproval. She glanced back down at the doujin in her hand, causing a spike of excitement. “Anyway, I’m really looking forward to reading this.” She said, unable to resist opening the cover for a sneak peek at the first few pages. “And talking about it with… eh?” Upon looking back up, she noticed Yuu’s expression had changed, becoming more wistful. “Yuu-san?”

“Mm…” The green-tipped girl shook her head. “I was just realizing how much I missed seeing that smile.”

“That smile?”

“The one you display when you’re reading manga, or watching anime, or talking about a series or character you like.” Yuu explained. “I haven’t seen that in like two weeks.”

Oh…

Yuu chucked as she thought of something. “<All work and no play takes Setsu’s smile away.>”

“Mm?” Setsuna blinked. She wasn’t unfamiliar with the phrase, but she could have sworn it ended differently. And why did Yuu say it in English? Was it to make the rhyme? Still, she had understood the words and as their meaning processed in her mind, Setsuna felt heat gathering in her cheeks.

Yuu reached out a hand. “<Come and play with us, Setsu, forever and ever and ever.>”

“Yuu-chan, I don’t think Setsuna-chan has seen that movie.” Ayumu said.

“I haven’t either.” Yuu laughed. “I just know the meme. You do to, apparently. I mean everyone does, right?”

“Uhm…”

“Anyway, anime can wait for bit. Tonight, Emma-chan is performing.”

“I know.” Setsuna nodded. “She and I have talked about it several times this week during training.”

“And Ayumu and I are going.”

“I know that as well. I gave you two the admission passes.”

“I think Yuu-chan is trying to ask, without actually asking, if you were coming with us, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu explained.

“…” Setsuna paused to consider her response. Of course she had figured out Yuu’s intentions, but she retained her reservations.

“I really think you owe yourself a night off every once in a while.” Ayumu continued. “Despite the meme, Yuu-chan does have a point, that you shouldn’t dedicate all your time to work and should leave at least a little time for play.”

Before she could respond, a soft ping sounded from the speakers of Setsuna’s laptop. She glanced down at the notification that popped up on the screen. “Eh?” she uttered.

“What is it?” Yuu inquired.

“It’s a replay from my instructor.” Setsuna scanned the message quickly. “He says I should go to the concert.” She heard Yuu make an excited noise. “He was actually going to contact me on Monday to see if I was alright because I am apparently a lot farther along than any other student he has seen take the course and he wanted to make sure I wasn’t overdoing things. But then he saw my email and he wanted to make sure I didn’t miss an opportunity to see my friend’s performance.”

“Sounds like you have a good instructor” Ayumu spoke up “who cares not only about your success in class, but also about your personal wellbeing.”

“Emma-chan is going to be so happy you’ll be able to make it.” Yuu said.

“Karin, Kanata and Kasumi-chan will also love seeing you again.” Ayumu added.

Setsuna smiled. “They’ll all be happy to see Yuu-san and Ayumu-san as well.”

“Well yeah, but we’ve already established that we’re going.” Yuu pointed out. “Setsuna-chan was the one holding out on her decision.”

“… Sorry… Oh, uhm…”

Yuu laughed again.

“I’m glad you reached out to your instructor.” Ayumu said.

“Well, I did want to go tonight…” Setsuna admitted.

“And we’re happy you decided to come with us.” Yuu grinned. “And since the concert’s not until after dinner, you still have the rest of the afternoon to study if you want.”

Setsuna nodded.

“Or…”

“Or?”

“You can take a short break to watch an episode of anime with us while we eat?”

“I’d like that.”

Yuu’s smile grew as she pushed her meal over to Setsuna’s side of the table. She then crawled over to squeeze in beside the raven-haired girl. On the other side, Ayumu was moving her food as well before fitting herself in with the other two. Setsuna opened a new tab in her browser and brought up her favorite streaming site where she found one of the series they had been watching that season. The three settled in comfortably as the opening song played.

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“That was an amazing concert!” Yuu said for the umpteeth time that night as the three girls entered Ayumu’s dormroom. “Emma-chan is a wonderful pro idol! And the event overall really makes me look forward to your first Live, Setsuna-chan.”

“I would have participated this weekend,” Setsuna admitted “but…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, classes and stuff.”

“I could request a slot next weekend though.”

“I’ll be sure to be there to cheer you on.” Yuu grinned.

“I’ll come too.” Ayumu spoke up. “I also want to support you for your first Live, Setsuna-chan.”

Setsuna smiled. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to practice hard this week so I can shout my love as best I can on stage.”

Yuu yawned. “Anyway, I’m going to go take a quick shower and get ready for bed.” She headed to Ayumu’s dresser to grab a set of pajamas.

“That’s a good idea.” Setsuna said. “I’ll see you two to back here in a bit.” She then headed to her room to prep for the night.

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“Perfect timing, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu said as Yuu got up from her hair drying session.

Setsuna smiled and sat down.

“I’m surprised you’re not pulling your laptop over so you can study.” Yuu teased.

“Oh, I, uhm, was actually just going to go to bed tonight.” Setsuna admitted.

“Oh? Not going to stay up until the wee hours of the morning again?”

“Uhm, not tonight…”

“Setsuna-chan wore herself out cheering at the concert, eh?”

“A little…”

Yuu laughed. “Well, I suppose I can’t blame you though. I did too.” She glanced up. “And I’m pretty sure Ayumu did as well.”

Ayumu felt a bit of heat in her cheeks. “It was just so much fun.” She explained as she ran a hand through Setsuna’s hair. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in the audience, I’d almost forgotten how much energy it can take.”

“Though it is wonderful to be see things from the audience’s perspective.” Setsuna decided.

“That is true.” Ayumu agreed.

“It’s the best.” Yuu stated.

“Hrm…” Setsuna pondered. “I’m not sure I can fully agree with that. I am quite fond of performing on stage.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Yuu conceded. “Ooo, I’m really looking forward to your first performance as a professional idol, now.”

“As am I.”

“How about you, Ayumu?”

“Me? I thought I already said I wanted to see Setsuna-chan’s performance as well?”

Yuu shook her head. “No, which do you prefer? Being on stage or in the audience?”

Ayumu paused. Granted it had only been a few weeks, but she honestly hadn’t thought about performing since their final Live as school idols. However, “I think I would have to agree with Setsuna-chan; both have their appeal, but there is something special about being on stage.”

“Well, if you ever miss being on stage,” Setsuna mused “Egao regularly invites former school idols as guest performers.”

“Eh? Really?” Ayumu hadn’t considered the possibility.

“That’s true.” Yuu chimed in. “We saw one perform tonight.”

They had? Ayumu realized she probably should have paid more attention to the program. Obviously, she had made sure to watch Emma closely, but otherwise, she had been a bit overwhelmed by the crowd and catching up with her former club members.

“Anytime you want, just let me know.” Setsuna continued. “I’d love to sing with you again, Ayumu-san.”

“I… might have to take you up on that sometime.” Ayumu decided.

“I’ll be sure to be there to cheer you on.” Unsurprisingly, Yuu repeated her offer of support.

“Thanks, Yuu-chan.”

The three continued talking about idol performances, both ones they had enjoyed in the past as well as ones to which they looked forward in the future. And as much as Ayumu wanted to prolong working Setsuna’s hair, it was eventually dried and properly brushed, so the session needed to end.

It felt a little strange as Yuu and Setsuna effectively lined up behind her as Ayumu crawled into her bed, after two weeks of them joining later, or just one week for Setsuna. But by the time Ayumu had settled down, Yuu was already halfway across the bed to her usual position and Setsuna had a knee on the edge as she waited for room to be made.

Was tonight actually the best night to experiment with snuggling? Would Yuu tease her?

“Ayumu?” Yuu apparently noticed the change in her expression.

Ayumu steeled herself for the next move and reached out to place a hand on Yuu’s shoulder.

I want to cuddle too, Yuu-chan. Ayumu pleaded silently. You cuddle with Setsuna-chan and we’re both equally important to you, so you can cuddle with me as well, right? Please don't make me say it out loud though, it's hard enough making the first move! And why do I have to anyway? Geez… Yuu-chan you can be so dense sometimes…

Finally, Yuu smiled, seeming to understand. She slid an arm around Ayumu and pulled the two of them together before nuzzling in under Ayumu’s chin.

Wait, no, I wanted to be the one to… oh well…

“Mm?” Setsuna’s hum sounded confused. Perhaps she hadn’t expected Yuu to move away from her? And did Ayumu detect a bit of disappointment in her tone as well?

Sorry, Setsuna-chan, I didn't mean to make you feel left out. Ayumu thought to herself as she moved her hand off Yuu’s shoulder, reached past her, found Setsuna’s arm and pulled gently. The other girl let herself be guided forward to the position Ayumu commonly observed in the morning. Now, they were even more crowded than before, and yet…

“This is nice…” Yuu murmured as though continuing Ayumu’s thoughts. “Good night, Ayumu, Setsuna-chan.”

Ayumu and Setsuna responded, almost in unison, causing Ayumu to giggle a little.

Yuu didn’t end up teasing her. Strange. But maybe it was because she had wanted the same thing? And if that was the case, Ayumu was still a little confused as to why Yuu hadn’t tried to snuggle with her before. In any case, at least they were now, so she then pushed that concern out to make room for more pleasant thoughts.

Ayumu closed her eyes and enjoyed the comfort of falling asleep nestled together with the two girls she loved.

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Author’s Note continued in Followup post

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Tri-Arame #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic

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unholyplumpprincess · 4 years ago

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Alone With You

Here is a commission for @realityinspace featuring their LOVELY BELOVED oc Saros for Overwatch! Please ask them about their oc and appearance bc they are LOVELY! I had a lot of fun writing this but maaayyy have gone a bit overboard on what was promised.

Image for the Oc found here!

(Older content)

Reblogs > Likes

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Relationship: Reaper/OC

Fandom: Overwatch

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reaper is a trans man and if the story is continued WILL be mentioned explicitly later down the line, Bondage via Reaper’s shadow powers, hand around throat but no choking, no penetrative sex, mild flicker of angst but nothing more than a glance.

Words: 4.8k

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There were times like now that the city really reflected the thoughts going through Saros’ head. The streets of France could be full of liveliness in the city he was in, and yet now, the streets almost seemed solemn. The sky was gray, patters of rain dropping from the sky onto the reflecting concrete. It felt nostalgic, in a way, the way people were quietly going about their days with umbrellas up and above their heads. Voices but a whisper compared to the soft patters of rain and the sound of cars passing.

The sight of couples leaning on each other would have been sweet to anyone else, but bitterness held in his chest made him shy his eyes from said people. More interested in pulling his thick jacket around his body more and continuing his slow pace through the city. He had no destination, just the itch for something familiar. There shouldn’t have been a familiar face in the city, no, and that’s what he’s betting on.

Familiar faces by now were ghosts or people who wanted to harness his power. A power that made him itch for destruction yet itched for a still calmness of a soothing lullaby.

~Rest under the cut~

Saros passes by a window that holds a reflection. Something he ignores without even sparing a glance, just catching the dark outline of his body. Though, what does make him pause is a mannequin in the window. Its features are indistinct, nothing special. But the leather jacket and the dark beanie shoot him back into memories.

Fond ones, at least.

Of his Commander, imposing yet welcoming barking out commands for Saros, Jesse, and Genji to follow. How his hands felt checking over Saros on more than a few occasions and his gruff voice asking, “You doin’ alright, kid?” And for Saros to nod his head quickly.

A certain memory stands out, however, when he notices that the mannequin is also adorning rings on the left hand.

It had been a rough night, that night years ago. Jack and Gabriel had been at each other for awhile, there was a rift in their relationship and tensions could be felt if you walked into the same room as them. Overwatch had been taking the praise and all the good work done, Blackwatch had been treated like the hand-me-down child and taking all of the faults, all of the blame.

Which in turn meant Jack taking the praise, and Gabriel taking the pounding of the government questioning the orders given. Which meant Overwatch pointing fingers downstairs to the people who DID do the dirty work under the table.

And once Jack got promoted? It went all tumbling downhill from there.

Gabriel was who Saros learned his compassion and emotions from- not to mention Jesse and Genji. Jesse was happy to show Saros movies and explain why people interacted in such ways, or making comments if the movies was a romance and saying to NOT do certain things that were on screen. Such as if you made your lady angry, do not pull her into a kiss and suddenly everything would be better. Whilst Genji, on the other hand, taught him to harness his anger and hatred. Genji was a lost soul much like himself, and even hearing his story made Saros’ heart strings tug even if he wasn’t too sure how having a sibling would feel.

Or family for that matter.

However, Gabriel? Saros stuck to like glue the second he saw him. Gabriel always made comments about how he was feeling, explaining his motions to Saros as if teaching a child how to behave. Except Saros was a full fledged adult who had been kept from human interaction for so long. He’d watched as Gabriel had first opened his arms for the first time when Saros was throwing a fit, tears down his own face and frustrated at something he wasn’t sure. There were items being lifted into the air via zero gravity coming from himself and yet-

Gabriel hadn’t run or yelled at him, just held open his arms and let Saros figure out what that meant by winding his arms around Gabriel’s small waist and getting protective arms around him in general. The softness of a hand on the back of his neck and the grounding murmurs into Saros’ temple had been so soft that he had steadily calmed down.

So, this fateful night? He’d caught Gabriel in the debriefing room. His arms were crossed on the table, face buried into them and beanie set to the side. The ring he’d worn on his finger had been thrown across the room on the other side of the table, not to mention the room just felt gloomy.

When Saros had touched his shoulder softly and watched as his commander turned his head up to look at him, he could only make a choked sound at the sight of Gabriel’s dark brown eyes absolutely glassy and red like he’d been crying. And as if on command, he slowly opened up his arms for Gabriel who had laughed at him softly and rubbed at his eyes. “See, you’re learning quick enough, kid.”

Before his arms had wound around Saros’ waist so softly and he’d just slumped into Saros and he knew it was his turn to hold onto his commander this time.

From there? It had been a whirlwind of emotions. Jesse and Genji heard the news the next day and Jesse threatened to cut off Jack’s dick and feed it to the wolves. Genji offered his blade, said he could make it look like an accident. Gabriel had waved them off, saying he was alright, that he had a feeling it had been coming is all.

Saros could see how he looked away though, even if Saros wasn’t too sure about gauging body language yet, he could tell that his heart had been broken into a million pieces.

And yet, Saros and Gabriel started becoming closer than before. Their relationship seemed to flourish, and yet, still seemed at a pause. Gabriel wasn’t willing to cross the threshold into another relationship; Not to mention with one of his subordinates. It just felt like an imbalance of power, no matter how much Saros’ puppy dog green eyes got him.

There was always a tension that even Saros could feel when they were close to each other. He felt his own eyes flicking down to Gabriel’s full lips on multiple occasions, watched as he’d lick them and avert his own eyes as if Saros was killing him just by looking. Or when Saros would be in his space to learn from him- or if they sparred.

Saros had never yearned, or ached before in his life for that matter. And yet, all he wanted to do was let Gabriel Reyes do whatever he wanted to him and he would have accepted with a Thank You Kindly, Sir.

Saros’ own mind gets away from him reminiscing about the past. His eyebrows knit so briefly in a facial expression he can’t pinpoint when he remembers Gabriel is gone. The explosion- the screams- the funerals-

He flinches slightly, turning his gaze away and sighing to himself. Hatred and bitterness burned in his heart once again, replacing the nostalgic warmth he had been feeling. How cruel of a world to be able to take these beautiful emotions he once had learned and twist them into a fury he could not express. He missed the warm hands, he missed the dark eyes from across the room burning into him, he missed sneaking his own hand down his pants and being able to remember a face that would haunt him with lust rather than grief.

As Saros begins to walk down the sidewalk again, he can’t help but tune in to the sound of footsteps behind him. Far enough away to not be loud enough if he wasn’t paying attention, but he notes that they’re just after his own. Curiously, he takes a random left across the street, heading more downtown and in a back area that no one would usually take.

When he hears the footsteps following, that’s when his skin crawls.

Talon shouldn’t be in France- Overwatch had its recall but there wasn’t a crisis here- Vishkar? They wouldn’t be in France...would they?

His paranoia begins to escalate as he makes the mistake of starting to speed up now that he knows he’s being followed. The second Saros hears the person pursuing him speeding up, he quickly takes off into a sprint through the nearby buildings through their alleys to try and lose them. He’s consumed with a feeling he can name right as he feels it, something so familiar that even before he had come to Earth he had felt before.

Fear.

Just as his eyes scale a large wall in front of him to come to a dead end. Saros’ heart is pounding, turning his back to it to press flat to its surface. His eyes search the shadows frantically in front of him, chest pounding and lips parted to pant as he watches the body emerge from the shadows- as if the shadows were the very person themselves.

A white owl skull mask, leather clad body with a trench coat, the talons outstretching from gauntlets and the threatening appearance of shotguns withheld on their back.

The Reaper, someone Saros had heard about but only seen in news reports online or through the papers. He’d never seen the being in person. A ghost, of sorts, said to have a haunting and chilling voice and a deadly trigger finger. Shown to be working with Talon agents.

Talon...

Saros steadies his breathing, watching as this being takes well timed steps towards him. It’s slow, deliberate, and yet doesn’t feel threatening. It feels authoritative. Like this being was used to being in control.

Saros watches with an intense gaze, eyes slipping down the frame. Small waist, hourglass figure with wide hips and strong legs. Down to boots that stomp with purpose, a hip swaying with one leg dramatically, and following.

A flicker in his mind, starting to piece together the body, the sound of the boots, the way this being doesn’t even reach for its weapons-

“Gabriel-” Saros feels the name slip from his lips, a shot in the dark maybe. But it’s too familiar- it- it had to be!

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Comes the haunting voice as it is now only maybe a foot from him. Saros doesn’t realize his mouth has opened in awe, eyes widening as he pieces it together. This voice was still gruff, deeper and almost like three different voices talking at once in a permanent growl. Yet, it was still familiar. Almost...playful.

Regretful.

The slap across his mask’s cheek is well deserved from Saros. The Reaper turns its- no, his head to the side with the effort but makes no move to reach out to Saros. As always, let him come to him first, no pressure, no movement. Just slowly turning his head back to facing him as Gabriel keeps a healthy distance away.

An unfamiliar sob rips through Saros’ throat without his permission, a choked noise as tears gather in his eyes and begin spilling down his pretty cheeks. Gabriel’s heart twists, arm twitching and hand outstretching to the side until Saros gets the hint and dives for him. His arms wind around Gabriel’s waist like old times, squeezing him tight as Gabriel’s go around his shoulders slowly, one clawed gauntlet resting at the base of his neck and cradling the man to his neck softly.

“I-I thought you were dead! The news- Overwatch- they said they found your dog tags. S-said that-” Saros’ breath is shaky, nosing at the fabric by Gabriel’s neck and inhaling the familiar scent of cinnamon and dark chocolate- sensual and familiar. “They said that you were dead. I went to your funeral-”

Pulling away briefly, Saros keeps his hands still on Gabriel, staring at the mask with his brows furrowed in a way that reminded Gabriel of his own frustrated appearance. He could laugh, but he holds it in as Saros growls out in absolute grief, “You were ALIVE and you didn’t contact me!” Yet tears still stream down his face, no malice in his words, Saros’ facial expression seeming to try and find the right thing to set to.

“Not the place for this conversation,” Gabriel murmurs, so deep it rattles his chest and makes Saros’ expression drop into a momentary panicked look. “But...it is the time,” He reassures gently, pulling Saros softly back from him. “You remember the old base ‘round here? South- in the woods?”

Saros nods shakily, wracking his brain to remember the coordinates. It’d come to him once he passed by the old willow tree, that much he knew for sure. Watching Gabriel nod, he takes the hint and wipes at his own eyes with a sniff. “Yeah- yeah I’ll meet you there.”

How Gabriel had left into a swirl of dark mists is a deal between him and the shadows, as Saros quickly figured out. He took the time Gabriel had spared him to head back to his hotel room under a false name, gathering his stuff in the backpack he had and tossing it over his back. Getting to the base wasn’t too hard, it required a little bit of hiking and remembering before he found the old hideout. It was covered by a wooden plank and old leaves, you wouldn’t even second glance at it.

The door’s pass code comes to him from memory and the drop down isn’t too bad without using the ladder. But he hangs onto it briefly to be able to make sure the door shuts and is covered back up. He then enters a dark, long hallway lit with old lights in the ceiling. Dim now after years without use before he reaches the door at the end. Another pass code and he’s in.

This place looked like a little home. Couches, a kitchen, a staircase leading down to an armory underneath. A bedroom was around the corner, fit with clothing of many sizes to blend in with the crowds around, a bathroom connected with running water and a decent sized shower with toiletries to spare. Dim lights were implanted into the ceiling, the kitchen was small but still had food stocked in it in cans and boxes. There were blankets left on the couch, one with little dragons on it that makes him smile as he strokes his fingers across it fondly remembering Jesse holding it up proudly to Genji.

Saros does, however, see the figure slowly creep from the shadows and is reminded like a slap to the face of why he’s here.

It’s quiet between the both of them as Saros comes to sit on the couch, slouching and dropping his backpack onto the floor nearby and Gabriel taking measured steps to come closer. Gabriel, as always, does not push boundaries as he leans against the nearby wall, arms crossed and hip jutted out in the way he always did.

There is when Saros finds his voice, “Where have you been?” He seems to murmur to the ghost of a man, still not believing his eyes at how Gabriel appeared so powerful now. Yet, completely covered up. With the skin he could see, Gabriel’s once warm dark brown flesh seemed almost a dimmed color. Like he really was dead.

“Mercenary work.” Gabriel starts with a heave of a sigh exhaling from his lips. It comes out black through his mask, like they were apart of him. Saros’ eyebrows knit, opening his mouth to question him further but Gabriel continues. “You’ve probably seen the news- I know you’re not dumb, kid. I know you have questions about my involvement with Talon.” Even the very word makes Saros flinch and Gabriel’s heart sinks, wanting to reach out to him, but he keeps his arms firmly crossed to remind himself not to let his heart win.

“Talon is...another contractor, we’ll say. Not my home.” Gabriel clarifies, sighing softly and turning his head to the side to look towards the wall briefly as he tries to find his own words. “I...I didn’t mean to leave you behind- hell, I thought Jesse would have taken you with him to wherever he was going- I thought...” He trails off once again, sighing shakily and resting a clawed hand over his mask as if burying his face in his hand.

Excuses. He only had excuses. At least, that’s what it felt like.

How could he look Saros in the eye and say he had been a willing test subject for Moira? How Angela’s science experiment worked to bring people back from the grave? How Moira had harnessed something similar? How could he look at this man and tell Saros, who had been a victim of science experiments most of his life and turned into a weapon, that the same had happened to him?

Gabriel’s so caught up in his own thoughts he doesn’t hear Saros approach. Not until a gentle hand touches his shoulder and he flinches, jerking his head up to look at Saros who is holding an unreadable expression. Like he’s trying to find the right one to match his mood.

It ends up on almost fond and concerned. Eyebrows knitted and icy green eyes looking over Gabriel’s mask before his lips part softly, “I want to see you. Your face- I- I want...” He trails off as Gabriel slowly moves his arms to his sides, giving him free access as Saros’ fingers gently hook under the sides.

There’s only a brief moment where Gabriel’s hands come up, grabbing his wrists gently with the clawed gauntlets and making a strained noise in his throat. As if worried. “I don’t look the same like I used to, kid.” His voice is dripping with concern, but Saros pushes onwards. With the movement of the mask, Gabriel’s hands drop to his side, his hood falling back behind him and revealing most certainly the same man- but definitely different.

His hair was no longer cropped, now in beautiful inky black waves flowing down to about chest level and well taken care of with a side part flipping his hair to the side and curling on his high cheekbones. His eyes were no longer that lovely dark shade of brown, but now a vibrant red with slit pupils and pitch black sclera. His full lips, parted and showing the glint of a tongue piercing Saros remembered- but the sharp, deadly double set of canines he does not remember. All side effects of Moira’s experimentation dosages including genetic material based upon large felines.

His skin is duller, almost grayed out from its warmth. His facial hair is trimmed, lining around his upper lips and down over his chin in a thick goatee.

Saros thought he looked positively charming. Watching how Gabriel’s eyes flicker back and forth between his own, his lips starting to move to say something, but Saros moves quicker.

A gentle, warm hand comes to rest upon Gabriel’s cheek. Thumbing over his sharp cheekbone and drawing him forward so Saros could finally do what he longed to do after watching all those movies with Jesse. He kisses Gabriel, with such softness as his lips mold with his own. Saros’ eyes close and so do Gabriel’s, whose brows are knitted before he begins to smooth out. One clawed hand coming to rest upon Saros’ waist just as he begins to pull away.

It was the best kiss Gabriel had ever received.

He’s a bit disoriented, eyes fluttering open half lidded and looking at Saros like he’s not working properly. As if trying to get his system to boot back up just as Saros smiles shyly, eyes down casting and licking his own lips as if to taste the lingering flavor of Gabriel. “I...I wanted to do that a long time ago. My feeling for you are still the same- even if I am not sure what it is SUPPOSED to feel like. It feels...right- you. You feel right, Gabriel.”

Hell, Saros says it so soft that Gabriel is tempted to make sure Sombra didn’t do something to him before he left. Was this real? It had to be, Saros was there, he sounded the same, he’d been crying- God Gabriel felt like he was in his twenties again.

“I hope you feel the same-” Saros starts, voice anxious as his hand begins to pull back from Gabriel’s cheek. Uncertainty in his eyes that Gabriel promises to make up for as he lurches forward, cupping Saros’ cheeks in his hands and being mindful of his gauntlets as he drags him into a warm, deep kiss. Fit with both of their cheeks flushing and Saros making the most beautiful, soft moan in delight as he clings to his former commander.

There’s talk before Gabriel goes any further, murmuring into Saros’ ear that they could stop there and Saros making a soft noise in reply of, “No, have me, please-” And it takes all of Gabriel not to body slam him onto the couch and just have him. Just like that. He has enough sense to take him to the bedroom at the very least.

This is where Saros is now. His clothing lovingly taken off and Gabriel having stripped down enough with him. Losing the extras like his gauntlets, cloak, extra ammo packs- all of it. Down to just a skin tight leather tunic and matching pants with his belt across his hips. Saros notes how Gabriel’s hands are almost pitch black, smoking up and winding to about below his elbow, but he makes no comment.

He can’t, not really, not when Gabriel is fit between his thighs and taking his mouth again and again. Saros is sure he’s mapped out the way Gabriel’s tongue feels in his mouth by now, or the way his sharp teeth feel digging into his bottom lip. One of Gabriel’s hands is fisted in his hair, pulling sharply back and making the kiss break so Gabriel could suck another hickey below his jawline to match the rest darting up Saros’ dark flesh of his throat.

Gabriel’s long hair flutters as if a curtain to surround them both, smoke seeming to emit from different parts of his flesh as his mouth kisses its way down Saros’ chest. Finding his nipple and curling his tongue over the peak of it before taking it into his colder mouth to suck on it. The sudden pleasure makes Saros’ hips jump, his hard cock smearing across Gabriel’s abdomen but doing no mind to the man above him.

Gabriel’s hands are needy, all over Saros’ flesh to grab and to hold. Saros whines, starting to sit up, but suddenly black, smoke-like tendrils curl around his biceps and yank him back down. There’s a brief moment of pause where Gabriel kisses down to his bare abdomen, looking up at Saros as if to make sure that was alright. But seeing just how red Saros is and how he practically sobs out, “Please-” In that little whining tone that was all his to discover on his own, Gabriel knows it’s good.

Another snakes around Saros’ throat, not to choke, just to hold him still as it caresses Saros’ cheek adoringly. He looked a pretty picture, cheeks flushed, hair knocked from its bun and cascading to the side. His icy green eyes are darkened from how wide his pupil is as he watches Gabriel acutely. Whether to learn or just to watch, Gabriel isn’t sure, but it does make him grin faintly as he kisses along the v line of his hips. “Such a pretty little boy. How many times have you touched yourself thinking of me?” Gabriel’s own voice is a low growl, seeming to echo all in the room as he noses his way down through Saros’ happy trail to his curls.

“Every time,” Saros practically wheezes out, hips trying to stutter upwards but getting caught by Gabriel’s arm that locks over his hips to push him right back down. A sob bubbles from his chest then as he tries to continue, “Couldn’t th-think about anyone else.”

It’s an honest answer, and a good one at that. Gabriel tries not to get touched by it the way he does, but he can’t help it. But, he distract himself, nosing at the underside of Saros’ cock and humming in approval at his size. “Poor thing...” He murmurs cruelly, toying with Saros who nearly lets out another sob before Gabriel licks up his cock from base to head. His free hand wraps around the base, massaging the length there with his thumb as he takes the head past his full lips.

Saros reacts just as expected with over sensitivity and his hips lurching upwards. He cums almost immediately with a pathetic, chest heaving sob and his entire body jerking with each jerk of his cock. He watches, amazed as Gabriel only parts his lips to let Saros see the mess left on his tongue before swallowing it and going right back to what he was doing.

Over sensitive, Saros reacts beautifully. Toes curling into the sheets and head throwing to the side but not going far with the tendril around his neck. His lips part in a loud cry, hips straining against Gabriel’s grip as he takes him to the root and swallows solidly around his cock.

In total, Gabriel makes him cum just like that again and again, for three times. He’s far past wet in his own pants, feeling the easy slide when Gabriel goes to sit up, moving over to Saros’ side to see him still shaking from his last orgasm. “Look at me.” Gabriel murmurs, watching Saros’ eyes flutter open on command and peering at him through his lashes. Gabriel’s heart twists, but he catches him by his chin in a rough grip, guiding him into a bruising kiss as he lies beside Saros.

The hand grabbing his chin soon moves down, briefly squeezing Saros’ throat and noting the delicious sound he makes- something he’d keep in mind for another time. His hand drifts back down Saros’ abdomen to soon grip his cock in a solid grip, still wet from his saliva as he begins stroking languidly.

The reaction is immediate. Saros’ relaxed kiss turns into his mouth parting in a sharp gasp, pulling back so he can shake his head as tears begin rolling down his cheeks. “Gabrie- Ga—Commander I can't- fuck- please, please I can’t!” He tries to sob out, chest lurching forward in an arch as best as he can in his bonds when Gabriel thumbs at the drooling head of his cock with a soft hum and a kiss beneath his ear.

“You can. Just one more, baby boy, give me one more. You can do that for me, can’t you?” His voice is a sin on its own, a low rumble in Saros’ ear who lets out the most beautiful, choked noise as tears pour down his cheeks. He sniffles, nodding vigorously and losing himself as things begin to float in the room.

With one last dry orgasm, Saros is finally allowed to relax. In his stupor he hears Gabriel praising him, calling him a good boy and kissing him softly. There’s a wet cloth cleaning him up by the time Saros makes a soft hum of confusion and murmurs, “What about you?” Starting to roll over so he could find Gabriel who just tugs him to his chest and kisses the top of his head affectionately.

“’Nother time, kid. I promise you that.” Is the last thing Saros hears before he’s nodding off with a soft grunt of approval. It’s the best night of sleep he’s had since the accident, waking up in the arms of Gabriel and blankets thrown over them both.

“Why have you returned so soon?” Akande asks, brow furrows and arms crossed over his chest in clear disappointment at Reaper. A shrug is not a good enough answer, Reaper knows this, but he certainly does try it. Only to have Akande bare his pearly whites in a snarl. “I do not tolerate failure.”

Reaper laughs, haunting and multi-voiced as he does and crosses his arms to match the stance. His entire disposition screams at Akande to make his move, and when he doesn’t, it’s his turn to speak. “The kid wasn’t in France long enough and knows how to hide his trail. Try picking up on some factual information about where your targets are before calling me.” A low snarl to hiss right back.

But, Gabriel knows exactly where Saros is.

A similar tracker having been gifted to Saros the same way Overwatch had their recall system. A little skull symbol that looked like nothing more than a little keychain picked up in travels placed lovingly in Saros’ hand with a parting kiss and a promise uttered so softly in his ear.

“I won’t let you be alone again.”

#Reaper #Reaper x Oc #Saros (Oc)#Overwatch #bendoverwatch #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing #oof this is old

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Text

Whose Side Are You On? (Part Two)

Terminator (1984) reader insert.

Warnings: none

Context: (Y/n) loses the car, but finds Kyle instead.

A/N: I know this is unpopular, but I'm having fun writing this, so I'll keep it up. Sorry to everyone who is expecting better content ://

Masterlist

It's still dark when I jerk awake in the morning, my neck cramped and uncomfortably painful as it snaps straight, my eyes instantly scanning the area for danger, an instinct I've picked up over the years of fighting. My joints are stiff and cold, my fingers numb as I move them a little, barely able to feel the grip of the gun in my lap, the smooth material nearly going unregistered under the skin of my palm. Arching my back, I feel it crack as I sit upright, my hands finding the steering wheel as I think through a plan, coming up with one as my body tries to wake up again, my hands reaching to start the car again, eagerly switching on the music again to try and shake me from the haze.

Focusing, I put the car into drive and pull back onto the road, heading back into the city, a plan formulating in my head as I do so. Decisively, I start looking out for road signs, following the appropriate ones down all sorts of roads, until I come across a street lined with cafes, restaurants and a few clubs, the area almost exactly like it was on the photograph I saw, months ago. Smiling triumphantly to myself, I pull the car over to the side of the road, and park it, sitting inside it as I try to figure out what to do, my fingers drumming on the steering wheel impatiently as I wait for my brain to catch up.

A sudden knock on the window startles me from my reverie, my hand instinctively grasping the handle of the gun in my lap as I look over at the newcomer, eyes wide in panic as I find them staring at me, the face unfamiliar to me. Upon seeing me looking, they tap again, waiting for me to lower the window, which takes me a few seconds to figure out, before they lean back slightly, revealing their clothes to me. A police officer. Just what I need.

Vaguely, I think to myself that I'm glad I didn't smash the car window in to break into the car, thanking the more subtle methods we were taught before leaving, aware that this may well have gotten me in trouble.

"Yes sir? Can I help you?" I ask him politely once the window is down, trying my best to speak like I know what I'm talking about, when I have absolutely no idea.

"Yes. I was just wondering if you were aware that the car you're driving is stolen?" He inquires sternly, watching me carefully.

"Stolen?" I can only act surprised, my mind in turmoil as it tries to think through some sort of plan. How could he possibly know that?

"Yes, stolen. That car is, in fact, mine."

I freeze briefly, before responding, cursing my bad luck.

"I'm sorry, sir. Are you sure you have the right car?" I discreetly slip the gun into the pocket of my coat, looking innocently up at the policeman as I unlock the door.

"Very sure. I've had that car for years. Would you mind stepping outside, please?" He puts a hand to his belt, where I'm sure he's got a gun, stepping back from the door of the car. Biting my lip, knowing the danger of the firearm, I slowly open the door, carefully swinging my legs out of the footwell and onto the pavement, unfolding myself from the seat. Hesitantly, I straighten until I'm standing in front of the officer, taking in his stature and countenance, weighing up my options: he's easily thinner and less muscular then I am (he hasn't been fighting a war, after all) but he knows the streets better than I do, so a hit-and-run in that sense wouldn't work. I'm also hesitant to pull the trigger of the gun, knowing it's full effects extremely well.

Eyeing me carefully, he moves so that he can check the interior of the vehicle, bending over as he does so, removing his stare from me momentarily, a lapse which I take full advantage of. As soon as I'm sure he is mostly distracted, I turn and tear off down the road, ducking into the nearest alley, following it round as I hear the man shouting after me, my legs pumping to get me away from him, aware that I have no idea where I'm going. Adrenaline races through me, my heart beating loud in my ears as I swerve around a corner, smashing into a large metal container, similar to the one I found the sheet in the night before, the impact making me feel backwards in shock and pain, though I ignore it, the dull ache insignificant compared to what I've felt before. Springing forward again, I keep moving, the man's calls still pursuing me as he gives chase, my panic spiking as I notice that the alley seems to be coming to a dead-end. I slow slightly, head jerking around to try and find an escape.

A pair of hands suddenly fasten themselves around my waist, my body yanked downwards and to the side by some apparently random person, the motion catching me off-guard. Yelping, I start writhing in their grip, until they speak, their voice instantly recognisable to me.

"Stop, unless you wanna get caught!" Kyle Reese hisses down to me, holding me against his body as he edges us backwards into a darkened doorway, my limbs going limp. Carefully, he drags us so we're just inside, our forms mostly hidden by the shadow.

Somewhere behind us, the sound of the policeman storming round the corner is audible, his voice laced with anger as he hollers down the alley, before noticing it's a dead-end, too, his voice breaking off in confusion. He murmurs something incoherent, as if not quite believing what he's seeing. Tense, the two of us hold our breath, hoping he won't come further forward, where he'll probably be able to see us, neither of us moving a muscle in the darkness, bodies rigid.

Long minutes pass, no sound coming from anywhere in the alley, each of us waiting for the other to make a move, until footsteps sound further up, indicating the policeman's departure. To be sure, the two of us wait a few more minutes, before we emerge, looking at each other as we do so.

Broad smiles crack out over our features, our arms suddenly around each other in a crushing hug, glad to see each other again, happy that we're both alive, my brother holding me tightly against him as I do the same to him, feeling the hard outline of a gun under his arm under his thin jacket. Inhaling his familiar scent, I let myself relax momentarily into the security of being with him, enjoying the feeling of him holding me.

Pulling apart, we smile at each other once more, each eyeing the other up and down.

"You look much better dressed than I am!" I comment, gesturing to his trench coat and clean trainers.

"Its practicality, not appearance, (Y/n)." He chuckles, pulling a face as he takes in the oversized police jacket and loose trousers, "Though I reckon you'd fit in much more of you had some other clothes."

"Ah, I'm really not bothered. We're here for a reason which doesn't include looking our best." I smirk at him, idly tightening the strips of fabric holding my sleeves to my wrists.

"True. We should probably get looking for her, actually. I've got no idea where she'll be, but we need to get to her before he does." Kyle muses, looking off into the distance as he formulates a plan, "Let's head back to the main road and find somewhere to stay."

"Good idea. We should split up - you remember the signals, right?" I agree, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"Of course."

The sky is just darkening as Kyle sends me a signal across the road, gesturing subtly to a young woman walking a little way ahead of him, his demeanour extremely suspicious to her as she turns around and catches him doing it. She turns to look in my direction, but I look as if I'm not the person who he's contacting, though only after sending him a signal to show that I've understood. As she looks at me, I catch her appearance, my heart throbbing at the similarity between her and her son, her eyes almost boring into me in the same way his do, her expression concerned and tense.

Subtly, I watch her walk a little way down the road, before ducking into a small, dimly lit building bearing a neon sign that reads Tech Noir, but not until she's made sure Kyle hasn't seen her. He makes a point of walking past, eyes flicking to me as he stops just out of sight of the building windows, silently asking me to join him. Nodding to him, I carefully cross the road and come to stand beside him.

"What's the plan?" I ask, eyeing the building she went into.

"Follow her." Kyle shrugs, leading me towards the entrance with conviction.

Part Three

#terminator imagine #terminator 1984 #terminator #arnold schwarzenegger #michael biehn #linda hamilton

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aboveallarescuer · 4 years ago

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How Dany assesses the counsel she receives and makes her own choices - Battle of Yunkai

This will be a series of posts meant to show that Dany is open to receiving advice and criticism, but that she doesn’t act solely based on what other people tell her to do. On the opposite, GRRM makes great effort to write a Dany who most often merges different viewpoints and/or finds her own solutions to the problems she’s facing. I won’t include every single decision she ever made (e.g. her decisions at court are often made without counsel and her execution of the ritual to hatch the dragon eggs was already exhaustively and deftly analyzed by other people), but there will be plenty of instances in this series that will prove my point nonetheless.

Since Dany doesn't receive a lot of advice in this chapter and I want to highlight her agency and skills here, I’m putting the verdict above so that people who don’t want to read the entire meta can at least find its synthesized points right away.

Chapter (s):

ASOS Daenerys IV

The advice Dany receives:

Both Jorah and Barristan warn Dany that she won't convince neither the Stormcrows nor the Second Sons to switch allegiances.

Verdict:

In this chapter, Dany:

Applies Barristan's lessons when she willingly chooses to assess the enemy forces and makes a reasonable guess of how many men the Yunkish forces have.

Has in mind that the sellswords, who are fighting on horseback, are more likely to cause damage and kill too many of her freedmen. (This will inform her plan later)

Embraces her limitations to mock those who will underestimate her for them. (And the author will give plenty of reasons to challenge the simplistic notion that Dany is just a young girl who does not know the ways of war.)

Applies historical knowledge to support her opinion that her forces will overwhelm her enemies'.

Maintains her self-composure and offers excellent comebacks when the captains and the envoy try to slut-shame and/or sexually harass her.

Is doing what she's doing for no other reason than to free the slaves in Yunkai:

She didn't have to worry about the freedmen's safety when they take part in the battle for her, but she does because it would otherwise render her fight for them meaningless.

She could have kept the chest for herself, but she didn't.

She could have taken other chests from the city like she suggests she might do, but she promises instead that "Yunkai will not be burned or plundered" (and that will bite her in the ass later in ADWD).

The only thing she requires is that the former slaves are "allowed to choose freely from among their masters' possessions" and that they are given "food, clothing, coin and goods". Doing this doesn't benefit her in any way, it only helps the slaves.

Outlines a tactical plan that is motivated by her desire to prevent a high number of freedmen casualties and that implies knowledge of:

The Yunkish forces' tactical formation.

The basic topography of the area.

Her enemies' weaknesses and how to exploit them ("I made no promises about tonight", "We will take them under cover of this darkness", "they will see hundreds of campfires burning").

Stays in the room while her captains decide how to better execute her plan. We don't know how much she contributed to the conversation, but it nevertheless shows her willingness to learn more.

When Daario shows up and declares that he and his men will fight for her, she:

Considers if he might be a spy, worries if there are others and is initially suspicious if he's just trying to save his own skin.

Only changes her mind when she sees that he killed the other commanders and that the dragons are fond of him.

Knows that she can't be too distrustful in general, despite the prophecies.

Realizes that the Stormcrows switching allegiances will guarantee that the Yunkish are overwhelmed.

Is more morally flexible concerning the sellswords than one might expect from a traditional hero(ine) fighting against slavery.

Beginning of the chapter

ASOS Daenerys IV is set in motion here:

Her Dothraki scouts had told her how it was, but Dany wanted to see for herself. Ser Jorah Mormont rode with her through a birchwood forest and up a slanting sandstone ridge. “Near enough,” he warned her at the crest.

Dany reined in her mare and looked across the fields, to where the Yunkish host lay athwart her path. Whitebeard had been teaching her how best to count the numbers of a foe. “Five thousand,” she said after a moment.

Even though her Dothraki scouts had already done so, Dany wants to apply Barristan's teachings and assess the enemy forces by herself. She estimates five thousand, which Jorah considers to be a fair guess. I would also note that, while it's not explicitly acknowledged that Dany would know how to describe the terrain the way the narrative does (in the parts in bold above), she is still sufficiently aware of it to concoct a successful outline of where each of her forces should strike the Yunkish later, as we'll see below.

Jorah notes where each sellsword company is positioned and Dany realizes that the Yunkai'i are located in the center. She asks if they lead slave soldiers and the knight confirms that they do, but they aren't equal of Unsullied. Jorah thinks they can "easily" defeat their army, but Yunkai has been forewarned, so any fight might result in more casualties than Dany is willing to accept.

Dany considered. The slaver host seemed small compared to her own numbers, but the sellswords were ahorse. She’d ridden too long with Dothraki not to have a healthy respect for what mounted warriors could do to foot. The Unsullied could withstand their charge, but my freedmen will be slaughtered.

First, here we see Dany using the knowledge she acquired from living with the Dothraki to make a more precise assessment of how her forces might fare against her enemies.

Second, I've seen Dany be criticized before for "breaking" her word with the slavers ... You know, these people who think selling other people is acceptable. This little fact already makes this criticism a moot point at best and slavery apologia at worst, but even then ...

Let's not forget that thinking Dany was "breaking" her word with the slavers means accepting that slavery is valid and that they have the right to sell other human beings.

Let's not forget that Dany's fear that too many of her freedmen will die is what leads her to decide to attack Yunkai and the sellswords when they don't expect it, as the passage above shows.

Let's not forget how awfully we see the Yunkai'i treating their slaves in Tyrion's chapters.

Let's remember all of this.

So, with these considerations in mind, Dany decides:

“The slavers like to talk,” she said. “Send word that I will hear them this evening in my tent. And invite the captains of the sellsword companies to call on me as well. But not together. The Stormcrows at midday, the Second Sons two hours later.”

Jorah thinks they might refuse the invitation, but Dany is quite certain that they won't:

“They’ll come. They will be curious to see the dragons and hear what I might have to say, and the clever ones will see it for a chance to gauge my strength.” She wheeled her silver mare about. “I’ll await them in my pavilion.”

I have no doubt that the previous reactions of the Qartheen and the Astapori to her dragons are informing her attitude here.

Negotiation talks

On my rereads, I've noticed that the negotiation talks in ASOS Daenerys IV are actually quite formulaic: a) the commander/envoy underestimate and/or insult Dany, b) Dany shows self-assurance and/or makes a threat and c) Dany makes a proposal only to be rebuked. So, instead of analyzing dialogue by dialogue chronologically, I think it's more interesting to display these patterns and focus on Dany's voice to highlight her rhetorical skills.

With both the Stormcrows and the Second Sons, Dany points out their blatant military disadvantages while embracing her youth and ignorance (because otherwise they will use these factors to hold her in low regard) and pretending to underestimate herself (because to do so right away means to undermine their propensity to do that):

“Five hundred of your Stormcrows against ten thousand of my Unsullied,” said Dany. “I am only a young girl and do not understand the ways of war, yet these odds seem poor to me.”

“It is true that I am only a young girl, and do not know the ways of war. Explain to me how you propose to defeat ten thousand Unsullied with your five hundred. Innocent as I am, these odds seem poor to me.”

The captain of the Stormcrows, Prendahl na Ghezn, is adamant that they don't stand alone, for they have the support of both the Second Sons and "the stalwart men of Yunkai". Dany questions if the Second Sons will stay by their side with such poor odds, but Prendahl doesn't flinch. Misogyny undoubtedly plays a part in his reaction, but there's also the fact that, as Jorah later told her, "[l]ikely he had kin in Astapor".

The captain of the Second Sons, Mero, doesn't even bother offering counterarguments. In his mind, since the Second Sons won battles with worse odds and have him as a leader, of course it will be easy to win against a "little girl".

With both Prendahl and Mero, Dany applies her historical knowledge to support her case:

“Woman?” She chuckled. “Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.” Dany met his stare. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo’s riders, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.”

“The Second Sons have faced worse odds and run. At Qohor, when the Three Thousand made their stand. Or do you deny it?”

The first passage, in particular, is often quoted by fans, and rightfully so. All of the three men with whom Dany negotiates try to underestimate her on behalf of her gender and/or by sexualizing/slut-shaming her. It speaks volumes that Dany is able to maintain her self-composure and offer such an excellent comeback. She knows what happened to the last man who dismissed her as "an ignorant whore", after all.

In fact, that's not the only rebut that Dany makes for being reduced to her sexuality. Mero's misogyny is particularly insiduous for pretending to be flatterous while he's actually both underestimating her authority and sexually harassing her. That's why her responses to him are more threatening than to the others:

“If you bring the Second Sons over to my side, I might not have you gelded.”

“No need. After my eunuchs cut it off, I can examine it at my leisure.”

“So it is from you they get their courage?” Dany turned to Ser Jorah. “When the battle is joined, kill this one first.”

The last example is particularly noteworthy. In Game of Thrones, the writers have show!Dany tell her advisor to kill Mero first after he is gone. In the books, however, Mero tries to paint himself as the one that gives his soldiers determination to fight only to be undermined by Dany, who simply asks Jorah to kill him first. As we can see, Dany acts like a boss here and undercuts her enemies' misogyny multiple times.

Then we get to the proposals she makes to each man she interacts with.

This is her proposal for the commander of the Stormcrows:

“Once battle is joined, do not think to ask for quarter. Join me now, however, and you shall keep the gold the Yunkaii paid you and claim a share of the plunder besides, with greater rewards later when I come into my kingdom. Fight for the Wise Masters, and your wages will be death. Do you imagine that Yunkai will open its gates when my Unsullied are butchering you beneath the walls?”

[...] “Tell me this—are the Stormcrows slave or free?”

“We are a brotherhood of free men,” Sallor declared.

“Good.” Dany stood. “Go back and tell your brothers what I said, then. It may be that some of them would sooner sup on gold and glory than on death. I shall want your answer on the morrow.”

Later, Dany's assumption will be validated: Daario Naharis will rather "sup on gold and glory" rather than be killed alongside his commanders. I'll get to him later.

This is her proposal for the commander of the Second Sons:

“Then stay, and fight for me. [...] Coins can be returned,” she said. “I will pay you as much and more. I have other cities to conquer, and a whole kingdom awaiting me half a world away. Serve me faithfully, and the Second Sons need never seek hire again.”

[...] “Can I have a flagon of this fine wine to take back to my captains?”

“You may have a tun. It is from the cellars of the Good Masters of Astapor, and I have wagons full of it.”

“Then give me a wagon. A token of your good regard.”

“You have a big thirst.”

“I am big all over. And I have many brothers. The Titan’s Bastard does not drink alone, Khaleesi.”

“A wagon it is, if you promise to drink to my health.”

“Done!”

If Mero had been more thoughtful and less dismissive of Dany (who had already conquered a city and freed thousands of Unsullied at this point), perhaps he would have considered that she might have used their inebriation to her favor (she did deceive the Astapori, after all, even if she was righteous in doing so). Perhaps he wouldn't have asked for an entire wagon himself if he had taken her seriously as a threat. If she were a man, I'm sure he would have been more cautious.

Finally, this is her proposal for the Yunkish envoy:

“I have a gift for you as well.” She slammed the chest shut. “Three days. On the morning of the third day, send out your slaves. All of them. Every man, woman, and child shall be given a weapon, and as much food, clothing, coin, and goods as he or she can carry. These they shall be allowed to choose freely from among their masters’ possessions, as payment for their years of servitude. When all the slaves have departed, you will open your gates and allow my Unsullied to enter and search your city, to make certain none remain in bondage. If you do this, Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested. The Wise Masters will have the peace they desire, and will have proved themselves wise indeed. What say you?”

This moment makes it clear that Dany is doing what she is doing for no other reason than to end slavery in Yunkai.

She didn't have to worry about the freedmen's safety when they take part in the battle for her, but she does because it would otherwise render her fight for them meaningless.

She could have kept the chest for herself, but she didn't.

However, the envoy calls Dany mad when he hears her terms, so she has her dragons burn his tokar. It's a moment that GRRM wishes had been included in the TV show, probably because it has ramifications later in ADWD (namely when Dany is trying to make peace with the Yunkish and they won't trust her word for that reason).

Battle plans

I recently came across a good meta analyzing the Battle of Yunkai from a military standpoint. I will juxtapose certain excerpts (adapted as bullet lists) from that meta with passages showing Dany's actions and statements in the books to emphasize how capable a leader Dany is becoming:

“An hour past midnight should be time enough.”

“Yes, Khaleesi,” said Rakharo. “Time for what?” 

“To mount our attack.” 

Ser Jorah Mormont scowled. “You told the sellswords—”

“—that I wanted their answers on the morrow. I made no promises about tonight. The Stormcrows will be arguing about my offer. The Second Sons will be drunk on the wine I gave Mero. And the Yunkai’i believe they have three days. We will take them under cover of this darkness.”

“They will have scouts watching for us.”

“And in the dark, they will see hundreds of campfires burning,” said Dany. “If they see anything at all.”

“Khaleesi,” said Jhogo, “I will deal with these scouts. They are no riders, only slavers on horses.”

“Just so,” she agreed. “I think we should attack from three sides. Grey Worm, your Unsullied shall strike at them from right and left, while my kos lead my horse in wedge for a thrust through their center. Slave soldiers will never stand before mounted Dothraki.” She smiled. “To be sure, I am only a young girl and know little of war. What do you think, my lords?”

1. We know that Dany had limited knowledge about warfare (after all, she's only a 14-15 year old girl), but nonetheless she outlined a rough tactical plan which her captains did not hesitate to accept.

2. She used terms such as 'left', 'right' and 'center', which suggest that her outline was based on the assumption that the enemy forces would be arrayed in some kind of linear formation. It also implies that she's familiar with the local terrain and topography. Because if the enemy camp had been protected by natural obstacles (by the coast, a mountain or a river for example), Dany's outline would not make any sense and her captains would certainly have told her so.

3. She also seems to realize her own limitations when it comes to warfare and that the implementation of military operations are better left over to her experienced captains.

4. Dany's plan made common sense and the battle turned out to be a success: The basic idea behind her plan was to let the heavy mass of Unsullied handle the sellswords on the flanks, while the Dothraki attacked the fragile slave soldiers. She deceived her foes, took the initiative, exploited her numerical superiority and took them by surprise.

5. But her plan involved certain calculated risks: Trying to direct a battle involving thousands of men at night can be very difficult, it can easily turn into a mess, and the danger of sudden panic is always present. That is probably why her armed freedmen were held back: Their lack of discipline and lack of fighting skills could easily backfire. The Unsullied, on the other hand, were very disciplined and they were also trained in night-maneuvers. (x)

As we can see, Dany's plan shows that she knows: a) the Yunkish forces' tactical formation, b) the basic topography of the area and c) her enemies' weaknesses and how to exploit them ("I made no promises about tonight", "We will take them under cover of this darkness", "they will see hundreds of campfires burning"). Even more importantly, as the reviewer acknowledges, her captains accept her plan without any objections. This is commendable, considering that it comes from someone who lacks both experience and knowledge.

This quote is also relevant:

It took an hour to work out all the details. Now begins the most dangerous time, Dany thought as her captains departed to their commands. She could only pray that the gloom of the night would hide her preparations from the foe.

To which extent Dany participated or gave feedback in the discussion above is unknown, but we can conclusively say that she at least listened to which military operations her captains would later implement to take the city, which highlights her desire to acquire more knowledge. In fact, I would argue that the author chose not to give attention to this hour of planning because he would rather focus on Dany's outline (and character development). GRRM takes great pains to give Dany agency, portray her as a competent leader and challenge the notion that she is only a young girl who doesn't know the ways of war.

Then, something unexpected happens (though, as I said above, Dany had already considered that this might have happened, even if not 100% seriously): Daario is captured by the Unsullied and unexpectedly declares that the Stormcrows are now on Dany's side. @rainhadaenerys already explained why Dany's trust in Daario does not make her stupid for a few reasons that I'll sum up here: a) he had already betrayed the other captains and would gain nothing doing the same to her; b) having him and his 500 men on her side would guarantee that the Yunkish would be overwhelmed; c) because, despite the prophecies concerning the treasons, she knows that she must trust other people, especially since no one's loyalties are certain. I would also want to add that she makes several considerations before accepting Daario on her side:

“The Unsullied caught one of the sellswords trying to sneak into the camp.”

“A spy?” That frightened her. If they’d caught one, how many others might have gotten away?

Dany was dubious. If this Tyroshi had come to spy, this declaration might be no more than a desperate plot to save his head.

This is not the reasoning of someone who can be considered "reckless" or "stupid", but who is rather aware of possible negative implications. However, she also proves to be flexible soon afterwards: if Daario killed the other commanders and the dragons trust him, accepting his allegiance seems worth the risk (and it pays off). Anyone who dismisses her for being "shallow" here has a shallow reading of the text themselves. He's handsome, but that's just a bonus.

In fact, there's a Doylist reason why we shouldn't criticize Dany for accepting Daario - doing so would mean validating Jorah's opinion, which is not a good look. Even worse, doing so would mean undermining this powerful and more than earned moment.

Aftermath

Things go pretty much exactly the way Dany had planned and expected:

“Your Grace, I bring you victory. The Stormcrows turned their cloaks, the slaves broke, and the Second Sons were too drunk to fight, just as you said. Two hundred dead, Yunkai’i for the most part. Their slaves threw down their spears and ran, and their sellswords yielded. We have several thousand captives.”

And, as more proof (if that was even needed) that Dany was concerned for the number of freedmen that would end up as casualties when she decided to attack the Yunkish when they didn't expect it:

“Our own losses?” 

“A dozen. If that many.”

Only then did she allow herself to smile.

I won't comment much on the mhysa scene because it doesn't really concern Dany's decision-making. I will say, though, that their reaction shows that they are grateful for her actions (see above, again, how the slaves are treated in Tyrion's chapters) and that it highlights, once again, the righteousness of Dany's cause.

(I've already written about what mhysa means for Dany here and here. Also, because this scene is understandably controversial ... here and here you can find good posts about the racism in the writing of Dany's storyline as a whole in a way that doesn't mischaracterize her.)

How Dany assesses the advice she receives

I'm putting this section in the end because there are only two moments (and one goes beyond the scope of this post) in which Dany receives advice in this chapter. This makes sense: as I said, despite Dany's limitations due to age and experience, GRRM really wanted to highlight how influential she was on the outcome of the battle.

The one moment that we see Dany getting advice is after she meets with the Stormcrows and the Second Sons. Both Barristan and Jorah agree that she is probably not going to get their support - Mero is treacherous and Prendahl had family amongst the Astapori. There isn't much she can do but accept their warning, but I find this line interesting:

“It is not his reputation that I want, it’s his five hundred horse.[”]

Dany is a traditional hero(ine) in so many ways, so it would be easier to portray her as someone who is unambiguously and plainly wary of the sellswords' lack of morals. However, moments like this and the one later in ADWD Daenerys VIII when she finds that being "dishonorable and greedy" can be advantageous if she wants the sellswords to turn to her side show that Dany is actually quite down-to-earth and flexible and doesn't suffer from moral righteousness like some think. In fact, if Dany had that problem, I'm not sure she would have thought that deceiving the slave masters (justified as that was) and revolting against an entire economic system would be okay; it's more likely that she would have had Barristan's attitude instead (i.e., leaving the region behind while feeling empathy but doing nothing about it). It's also a little detail that shows how GRRM maintains her characterization consistent, for it would be easy to forget that aspect of Dany by the time he got to writing ADWD.

(Of course, it's not so simple as to say that she's okay with their immorality. She is suspicious of them - we see with Daario that she doesn't fully trust him nor reacted well to that advice to kill all the masters in the Temple of the Graces.)

#daenerys targaryen #asoiaf meta #dany and her choices #valyrianscrolls #a storm of swords

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imjeralee · 4 years ago

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Comfort in Despair: Chapter 2 - Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Note: This is my Leon fic!!!!! Originally posted on Archive of Our Own.

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

Rating: General/Teen

Warnings: None! But dis fic be scary sometimes

Extra Note: If this was an anime episode it would be called 立ち去った、悪霊！チャンピオンダンデと祓魔師の冒険！ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(;￣◇￣)┘

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

...

["It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt, It lies behind stars and under hills, And empty holes it fills, It comes first and follows after, Ends life, kills laughter." - The Hobbit, J. R. R. Tolkien]

...

This would be the first time you have had someone properly accompany you during your excursions; a long time ago, Sonia was eager to come with you but unfortunately she wasn't quite able to stay awake during most of the night and you had to continue on without her, leaving her fast asleep in the tent with Yamper.

Also, you don't want to endanger her in either way, otherwise Magnolia may not forgive you. You're close to them and Magnolia wouldn't say such things to you in person but you know deep inside that you mustn't jeopardise her granddaughter.

It's nice to have a companion for a change.

"I mean, for once, I don't need to fill in the silence by talking to myself," you utter to yourself under your breath and it's completely due to force of habit but Leon overhears and throws his glance to you.

"Huh?"

"Oh, nothing."

It's true though.

Leon and yourself meander down the path with Charizard lumbering behind you. Although you're not sure if it is the right thing to allow Leon to come with you, a part of you is wondering if things might end up differently if you tackled this one as a group rather than just going solo. There is still no sign of the house however.

"This can be very dangerous," you warn him again but he's looking very optimistic.

"Charizard will protect us!" he exclaims with boyish enthusiasm, a type of naïveté which you find rather bemusing because you wonder how he will react once he sees a ghost....though you do inwardly cringe about the thought of Leon running away whilst screaming his head off.

Meanwhile, Charizard emits an all-knowing snort and nods his head. They both look confident and comfortable.

"Ghosts are an entirely different thing, Leon."

"Yeah, but do you have any pokemon?"

You stop in your tracks immediately, cheeks feeling warm as Leon pauses as well, quietly observing your reaction. Without looking at him, you mutter out, "K-kind of, I have my sister's pokemon but I don't want to use them. If anything happened to them I wouldn't be able to forgive myself."

"Okay, so you don't have any pokemon with you?" Leon says, crossing his arms. Although he's wearing baggy clothes, his sleeves still go taut from the motion and you can see the outlines of his rock hard biceps which you had grabbed not too long ago.

You clear your throat, trying not to think about that incident and focus on what is presently at hand at this moment. It's refreshing to see him fully-dressed in his sweats for a change. You're used to seeing pictures of him in the champion attire consisting of the red cape, tight black t-shirt, white shorts and tights. He's kept his snapback, however.

Shaking your head in response to his question, a look of surprise crosses his handsome face.

"It's incredibly dangerous to go into the Wild Area without a pokemon partner. I could send you back to the Meetup Spot right now," he says.

Your cheeks go pink as he tells you off and you hang your head low whilst kicking a stone in your path, pouting. "As long as I have my stash of pokedolls and I don't go into the tall grass, I'm fine..."

He breaks into a grin at your defeated response, "I was kidding!"

You don't get his humour as he continues to chuckle; your clueless expression must be priceless to him.

He adds, "It's fine, I can help catch a pokemon for you."

"...You don't need to catch a pokemon for me. I've always been going to the Wild Area without any pokemon."

"Miss, if you insist on wandering the Wild Area alone in the dark with no pokemon... as Champion of Galar and for the sake of your safety, I insist that I must stay by your side for the remainder of the night."

You give him an incredulous look. “Do you say that to every girl you come across or am I special?”

He starts spluttering immediately, your comment has taken him completely off guard. “W-what? N-no, I don't say to every girl-"

You watch as he continues stuttering.

"Uh, I don't talk to a lot of girls but when I do, I usually wouldn’t... I wouldn’t say-"

It seems to be growing worse.

"I mean, I had to say that because you are special-"

"Leon, relax, I was joking," you chuckle under your breath and Leon ends up offering you an awkward grin. "C'mon, let's go."

You begin to pick up pace once again with Leon on your left and Charizard moves to your right. Compared to you, he is so cheerful and enthusiastic, even at this time at night. He looks happy and so the conversation continues.

"What's this all about then?" he asks.

"A client says he came across a haunted house around these parts so I'm going to investigate," you reply, "this isn't anything new, Leon. I'll get to the bottom of this soon."

He blinks wide-eyed for a few seconds, "And uh, how long have you been researching pokemon?"

"About five years."

"I recognise your name – you live with Sonia and Professor Magnolia, right?"

"Yeah."

"They've mentioned you several times. It's a shame we never got a chance to meet until now."

"Likewise," you reply, throwing a glance to your radio which you have fished out from your bag.

"You know who I am, don't you?"

"Of course I do, and even if I didn't, you said it yourself there anyway," you utter, although the majority of your attention is focused on the radio, "I didn't expect to meet you here though."

His face grows red as he rubs the back of his neck with his large palm. "...Charizard and I are undertaking some private training. Isn't that right, big guy?"

Charizard nods happily and swings his bulky tail around in the air and you have to hop to avoid the wagging of his tail until he accidentally smacks into you and something hot slaps you on the rear and begins to grow hotter and hotter.

Sniffing the air, the atmosphere begins to become laced with the smell of burning plastic and you quickly throw a glance behind you. You are greeted with the sight of bright orange flames tickling your backside and your eyes widen.

"I'M ON FIRE!!!"

A bug-eyed look is Leon's response when he turns round and gets an eyeful. The back of your coat is indeed, covered in flames. "Charizard! Be careful!" he reprimands the flame pokemon. There is no hint of malice in his voice but he is stern.

Charizard's apology consists of a couple of snorts and loud huffing as you begin running around aimlessly in a panic.

"Um, drop to the floor and roll around!" Leon yells so you throw yourself to the ground in front of him and begin rolling but the fire doesn't go away so easily.

Fortunately for you, you spy a deep puddle up ahead that is being perused by a Lotad so you get back up and leap heftily towards it.

The Lotad hurriedly scurries away as soon as it senses your incoming arrival and your back meets the puddle. Water goes splashing everywhere but you are saved. You exhale noisily with relief as the flames are extinguished and there is a loud yet satisfying 'tssssssss' following as smoke begins to seep out from under your back, evaporating into the air in silky white wisps.

Leon heads up to you sheepishly and stands before you; you swerve your eyes up and your gazes meet as he removes his snapback, cradling it in his hands, "I am so sorry. Are you okay?"

"........Yeah."

"I'll make it up to you," he pulls something out from his bag and lifts it out.

It's a Burn Heal.

You cannot help but roll your eyes and sigh under your breath. "I'm fine. Let's just keep going."

Leon sticks his hand out for you which you take and he helps you back onto your feet once again.

"....Thanks," you say with a wince as Charizard looks at you with very wet eyes, "It's okay, dude. No big deal."

You reach a hand to pat him on the horns but then it dawns to you that maybe you should've asked Leon for permission first. The thought hadn't crossed your mind therefore you're quick to retreat and Leon notices, emitting a laugh.

"Go on, he likes to be petted. And he loves tummy rubs too."

"O-oh, right...Cool." you pat Charizard's horn and his tail slams up and down over the ground with affection. "Hey, Leon. How bad is it?"

Leon tiptoes round you to inspect your back. Your coat is waterproof so the material is more durable but you're not sure whether it is flame retardant to a certain degree or not so Leon takes note that it is charred and black all over, especially at your ass. Good news, Charizard's flames didn't burn right through to your trousers and panties. However, Leon does stare for a fraction longer than necessary which warrants you to turn and look at him curiously in response.

He clears his throat, returns to your side, fitting his snapback over his soft and fluffy purple hair. "I'll pay for the damage."

You shake your head.

After that shenanigan, the conversation and any further attempts to interact fizz out like a dying candle in the wind. You're far more invested with finding the damn house and the quicker you find it the better.

On the way, you continue fiddling with the radio and try to grab a signal as you hold it high and low in the air and Leon often throws wary glances at you and your device but says nothing of it. You wander down the path, looking up and around and Leon halts in his path all of a sudden.

"What is it?"

"There," he has spotted a distant glow ahead; it would have been difficult to see if either of you had taken a few steps further. "Do you see that?"

You follow to where he is pointing and indeed, a small trickle of light can be seen peeping out between the thick leaves of the trees and it's suspicious enough; you move towards the bushes, pulling all the thick fauna and branches and leaves away until you are greeted with the brief outline of a large and dark building.

"Leon, you found it!" you exclaim happily.

Oh thank Arceus above! Finally, some good news!! Grinning widely, you look at each other at the same time, elevated to have achieved the goal and it seems everything has returned to normal; there is no awkwardness, no more silence between you, and it occurs to you that he has a really nice smile.

"L-let's go," you stutter out as your heart decides to thud harder than usual and you speedily abort eye contact.

You feel your cheeks growing warm as Leon nods.

The house is completely off path. You have to wade through extensive, overgrown fauna and step through some slimy mud, occasionally getting your foot stuck if Leon wasn't here to help you. Charizard trails after the two of you and snorts as he gets caught in low-hanging branches and he waves his claws around as tiny insects buzz around him. It appears to be a normal path but soon it grows to a long-winded nature trail that takes you far from the main path which the gym challengers are supposed to stick to.

After a long trek that seemed to go on and on, you find yourself in front of a large and dilapidated house and you whip out your book, glancing at the diagram you drew before you spare another glance at the house once again.

"This is it," you say, as Leon peers over your shoulder to look at your drawing. "It's been abandoned for years."

Your drawing matches the house perfectly. The house is as your client described - a two storey mansion, derelict, one single door. Georgian architecture with symmetrical, long and thin, tall windows. There is only one light visible from the top floor, second window from the right.

"Must be a master bedroom, the old man's bedroom perhaps....it must be the source..." you murmur as you look at it in awe.

You proceed to take a step forwards and as though sensing your presences, all the lights flicker on with soft orange glows emitting from all windows.

Leon and Charizard stare at the spectacle, stunned.

"It knows we're here," you murmur under your breath again, "...Note to self: perhaps it is a sentient being?"

"Huh?"

"N-never mind, I'm just talking to myself again."

"Oh, uh...shall we go in?"

You nod without further ado and promptly make a move towards the house until you remember you are not alone; glancing at Leon, you say, "Leon, you don't need to go inside with me. I can take it from here."

He shakes his head. "I'm going with you. I'll protect you," he replies, and your cheeks grow pink once again.

You're aware he means it literally of course, but sometimes when a guy says such words to a girl...

Well... a girl might get the wrong idea.

"Thanks, Leon. I really appreciate this," you utter, before you pull out a small pouch from your pocket and hand it to him, "Take this; it's salt. Salt repels evil spirits. Use it if you need to, create a salt circle and sit in it, all the way until dawn. Keep this with you at all times."

He accepts the packet of salt with some uncertainty. "Thanks."

You give a packet to Charizard but he just ends up tearing it in half and the contents fall to the ground.

You don't bother telling them about anything else that repels or protects evil spirits because he already has your good luck charm and the salt and that should be enough so you proceed to go up to the front door. Leon follows you with Charizard at his heels. They are both on high alert.

They're extremely brave considering they're dabbling into the unknown and you're stunned they want to continue to stay with you because you have finally located the house and do not require further assistance. They're not as scared as you thought they would be.

Once you're at the door, you swallow down, take a deep breath and knock on the wood and wait as a low, creaky groan emits and echoes around the house. You use the time to inspect the door as no minor or detail feature should be left out although all you can see is that the door is rusted and dull. Only the handle shows use as it's smooth and shiny, indicating many hands have touched this doorknob prior.

"Why are you knocking?" Leon asks in a hushed whisper as he peers over your shoulder.

"It's polite," is your reply.

The door opens.

You and Leon exchange a brief glance as it creaks open a small fraction before you push open the door as wide as possible and you shine your torch inside, the light illuminating the dark walls and revealing an empty corridor.

It's silent.

At the very end of the corridor is a lone door.

This particular door is ajar and a thin outline of orange lines the walls indicating the light is on within. You can see shadows flitting around too, giving the false pretence that there are people here.

You are about to step inside further until Leon holds his arm out.

"I'll go in first," he says.

His demeanour has changed from goofy goofball to the serious and brave champion of Galar. You stare in surprise at the sudden change as he passes you, strolling in the house without any tremble in his step, followed by Charizard who is keen to protect his best friend.

You tell him that it's best to retrace your client's steps so your group ventures through the corridor, taking note of the staircase to the right that leads to the second floor before you head towards the door and Leon firmly grasps the awaiting handle and pushes down, opening the door.

You watch as Leon enters the room first with Charizard and you slide inside after him.

It's a room.

You do not see or hear anything out of the ordinary as you glance around; it is nothing but an empty room with peeling wallpaper. There are no furniture, no painting or portrait on the wall, no carpet. There are only two windows in the room, showing the bleary night and trees wavering in the wind outside.

However, you can’t deny that something is off about this room.

The atmosphere is suffocating and you draw in heavy breaths.

”Leon, be careful,” you say, “...there’s something evil here. I can sense it.”

Leon and Charizard continue looking up and around until the drastic drop in room temperatures causes you to grow still, having sensed an ominous presence. Numerous chills run down your spine and as your chest goes stiff and your breath begins to shorten, you slowly avert your focus to one corner.

An old man dressed in dirty rags stands with his back to you, facing the wall.

It's as your client had described.

You grab Leon by the arm and point at the apparition; he's seeing what you're seeing too whilst Charizard is ready to attack.

However, you shout, "Who are you? Reveal yourself!"

Immediately, the room flares into life at your demand.

The old man turns, revealing a disgusting, grotesque and deformed face before a scream erupts into the room and the apparition zooms towards your group.

You gasp as Leon throws himself over you and you're pulled into his thick and sturdy chest and Charizard attacks out of fear. Flames burst forth from his mouth and once the flames die away, the old man is nowhere to be seen though you do hear the little pitter patter of footsteps rushing away.

Whilst Leon clutches you firmly and Charizard pants heavily, you have pinpointed the source of the horrendous screaming, locating it to the top left corner of the room where you see the wavy silhouette of a Misdreavus who quickly disappears into thin air after being spotted as well as a Chandelure that dissolves into the atmosphere.

The screaming stops at once and the lights go off in a split second, bathing everyone in darkness; the only source of light is from Charizard's tail and your torch.

Whilst Charizard huffs, Leon is still holding you tightly.

Strange. Your heart is thudding even harder than before and not from the apparition but rather your close proximity with the Champion... and you're sure he can tell as your chests are pressed together so tightly and your nose is pushed into the soft, downy fabric of his hooded sweater. He smells of musk, fire and earth and his arms are looped around you protectively whilst your fingers curl over his broad shoulders. Your heart gradually races even harder against your ribs when you realise no-one has held you like this before, especially a man.

He swerves his glance down to you. You're not as tall as Leon so when you look up timidly and your eyes meet, you both look away and his grip loosens on you and you're quickly released. He steps away from you, clearing his throat and when you steal a look at him, you see that there is a spray of pink dusting his cheeks.

"W-well, that explains the screaming and the lights," you stutter, trying to calm your racing heart, "I-it's a Misdreavus and a Chandelure."

You do not receive a response; Leon is silent.

".....A-are you okay?" you croak.

"Y-yeah," he finally grunts out, rubbing the back of his neck, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Whoo, sweet mother of Cherrim, that was something, right?" you laugh awkwardly as you stand near each other in the room, "I gotta hand it to you, Leon, y-you must be a...a sociopath or something if that didn't scare you. And a highly-functioning sociopath to be exact."

You wonder if you should've said psychopath instead; no matter, you had meant that in the best way possible but Leon's expression forces you to stop laughing.

"You're okay too," he points out.

"I see these kinds of things often, it is so unoriginal it doesn't scare me anymore," you say as you fold your arms gently behind your back.

"...What kind of things scare you?"

What a funny question to ask, but you suppose you can humour him. "I'll tell you when all of this is over."

"Okay. So, what was that?"

"An illusion," you reply as you take a deep breath. "Allow me to elaborate."

Leon watches as you begin your analysis, stepping around the room.

"I noticed there's no dust here or outside in the corridor. Not a single speck. It's been regularly maintained which tells me this place is important to the occupants. It's their home and it's special to them."

You begin walking around Leon and Charizard, strolling in circles until you nonchalantly step over to where the old man was standing and immediately go on all fours, sniffing the ground whilst Leon and Charizard watch your display with mystified expressions.

"This smell is....Pecha berries," you finish after sniffing the air, before you reach forwards to grab a pluck of rough black fur that is sticking out from one of the gaps of the floorboards.

"Is that from a pokemon?"

"Yep. A Zorua or Zoroark, maybe. They're masters in the art of illusion."

Leon crosses his arms with a smile playing on his lips; he looks impressed with your findings.

You move to stand, dusting your palms again and placing them on your hips, nodding to yourself.

"Mm-hm. That about sums it up. This is it's home and it's not alone. I'm guessing a lot of ghost pokemon live here and maybe even some dark types. They're harmless and I highly doubt there's actually any ghosts here, just pokemon. They probably just enjoy pranking people or scaring people who stumble across here so they're working together to create the ruse of a haunted house and – "

You are interrupted in your explanation when you are violently swept off your feet by an unseen force, your body tossed into the air like a ragdoll and flung against the wall to the far left.

Leon and Charizard rush over immediately as you drop to the floor and roll to your stomach, face-down. "Are you okay?!"

You hiss in pain as Leon helps you up, "Ouch. Uh...yeah, I'm okay. No need to worry, this happens to me a lot too...." you end up croaking out, though you can't help but shiver as soon as the room becomes blanketed with an impermeable darkness that differs from before. It is a darkness which Charizard's lit tail and the light from your torch cannot even penetrate. You add, "Usually in these cases, there are lackeys and the mastermind. In this case, the mastermind is the strongest pokemon here."

Leon looks around cautiously, hoping to catch sight of who or what and Charizard moves to stand in front of the two of you but then you're picked up by the invisible assailant once more, the neck of your coat pulled and tugged and as quickly as you are lifted in the air, you're hastily flung to the other side of the room a second time. On this occasion, Leon grabs onto you by throwing his arms around your waist and you both end up crashing against the wall.

You hear a loud 'crack' and gasp as your pocket radio comes tumbling from your bag and smashes against the floor, having slipped through the opening of your bag which you hadn't zipped up properly.

The radio is broken.

"Shit!" you can't help but curse, "Not again!"

Amused by your anger, the culprit finally reveals itself: a pair of piercing red eyes and a wide, grinning mouth appears in mid-air, snickering sinisterly at your misfortune.

"Charizard, use Flamethrower!" Leon commands, and the flame pokemon obliges, hurtling a huge ball of flame at the pokemon.

The attack misses its target as the pokemon disappears into the darkness for a fraction before it reappears once more. It's murky black and large, with a round body and two stubby arms and legs and spiked head and tail: a Gengar.

For a Gengar, it's bigger than you and Leon had anticipated, compared to the pokedex entries anyway. It's at least the same height as Charizard. It fully manifests before you, rolling around the air with laughter.

"This isn’t funny!" you yell, but it merely sniggers even louder before sticking its long tongue at you and waving its arms together, conjuring a large ball of swirling dark energy which it effortlessly tosses at your group.

Whilst Charizard retaliates with another attack, Leon grabs you and you both go rolling to the side, safe from the attack.

"Thanks, Leon.”

"No problem," he replies as he helps you up. You appreciate how quickly he thinks and reacts to situations like these.

Gengar cackles wildly, holding his tummy as he spins around in the air before his red eyes begin to glow brightly. A ball of white light the size of a golf ball is conjured and with a wave of his finger, he unleashes it towards Charizard's direction, letting it bob along in the air.

It's a Confuse Ray and Charizard dodges though the Confuse Ray chases after him for a moment or so and Leon commands him to use Fire Blast.

Although Gengar is fast enough to evade, Charizard's attack has wide coverage and slams into Gengar in seconds; the ghost pokemon is repelled in mid-air, eyes clenched shut with agony before it ultimately crashes to the floor.

Remembering his promise to you, Leon pulls an empty Ultra Ball out from his pockets.

With expert flair, he twists and turns his body back and executes a perfect throw at Gengar. You can tell from how he threw the ball that he has done this many times and has mastered the technique of ball-throwing and the Ultra Ball smacks Gengar right in the face and the critter is sucked into the capsule in a ball of red light. The ball lands on the floor, rolling.

"That looked painful," you murmur, and Leon grins sheepishly at you.

The capsule wobbles once, twice, then it promptly bursts and Gengar re-emerges. Having evaded capture, the pokemon abruptly sinks into the floorboards and disappears from sight and the room returns to silence.

"Let's go after him," Leon suggests, and you nod in agreement.

Your group leave the room, heading down the corridor and though you thought there was nothing else here, there is actually a small set of stairs that lead to the second floor. It's the only way forwards so you head up where a couple of Litwicks, Lampents, Chandelure and Misdreavus sit or hover on the banister and watch curiously as you make your way up. Each step creaks under your feet loudly and your group reach the landing where another long, foreboding and dark stretch of corridor greets you, lined with numerous doors on either side and a few cupboards.

Whilst you wonder where Gengar could have gone, it's then you hear an unfamiliar voice belonging to a male:

"Gengar, you are hurt. Who did this to you?"

Various chills run down your spine once more.

"Leon, did you hear that?" you whisper.

"Hear what?"

It's close but there are so many rooms. You could try and split up but according to every horror movie you have seen in your lifetime, splitting up is a terrible idea. Thus your group pass each door one by one only to discover they are locked or boarded up which does not surprise you. The Misdreavus and other ghost pokemon begin to follow you around though they are more interested in watching than assisting.

You are almost halfway through the corridor and up ahead, it seems to split into a T shape until Leon informs you he has found something and would like some more light; returning to his side, you shine the torch to where he is gesturing to where you see a Zorua ducking away from sight, hiding under a rickety cupboard. It yelps weakly and Leon approaches it carefully.

"It's okay, we're not gonna hurt you," Leon says as he moves to kneel on one foot in front of it.

The Zorua stares at Leon with its large teal eyes for a few seconds or so until it slowly crawls out. It's been burned. No doubt, from Charizard.

"I think that's the old man," you say, remembering how you found black fur in the room downstairs.

Charizard snorts apologetically in response but Zorua is too weak to react. The Burn Heal comes in handy now as Leon rummages in his backpack to find the item and proceeds to spray it over the singed fur of the weakened pokemon.

"There you go, that should make you feel better," Leon mutters with a warm smile.

He should be surrounded by talking and singing woodland animals, you think to yourself.

You watch the display before the forceful thump of your heart beating against your ribs makes you snap out of your thoughts and you smile awkwardly at Leon as he glances up at you with a heart-wrenching grin. You swallow down the thick lump in your throat as the thrum of your pulse soars to an astronomical rate.

Leon returns to tend to the Zorua with much gentleness and care that would put a well-trained nurse to shame, pulling out some Pecha berries contained in a medium-sized ziplock bag and handing them to the Pokemon. As Leon lowers his hand with the berries in his palm, it lunges for one and gobbles it happily.

"Who's there?"

The disembodied voice draws your attention once more so you continue down the dark corridor on your own, attempting to locate the source whilst Leon tends to the Zorua. You can hear him chuckling as Zorua licks his fingers.

As you search, you eventually narrow the source of the voice to a door up ahead which is open.

It's a master bedroom; there is a king-sized bed that sits in the very middle and a couple of undistinguished furniture covered in white drapes. Resembling the room and corridor downstairs, it is in impeccable condition and you see it is devoid of any individual.

You can still hear Leon and Zorua in the corridor.

Stepping inside, you immediately catch sight of the massive portrait hanging on the wall that portrays a middle-aged man with bushy brown hair and a stout but kind face, dressed in a royal blue waistcoat with brass buttons, matching white pantaloons and riding boots. Beside him, a Ghastly hovers near his arm and a Zoroark stands to his left.

There is a rusted plaque on the bottom that says 'In Loving Memory of'. The rest is too faded; you cannot make out the name.

Although you saw a contorted, twisted-looking old man downstairs, you are certain this man featured in this portrait is the basis for the old man.

"Leon, I found something," you say aloud as you shine the torch up at the portrait though you do not receive a reply, "Leon?"

You stay still, listening.

It's...silent.

You leave the room abruptly and return to the corridor, only to realise that Leon, Charizard and the Zorua are nowhere to be seen. You shine the torch down the corridor and towards the direction of the stairs, the long reach of light touching the walls.

"Leon? Charizard??"

They're gone.

You are on your own.

You begin your search, trekking down the long hallway and returning to where you had found Zorua. There is nothing here, no traces.

They have simply vanished.

There are two doors on your left and right. You try the left door but it's locked so you head for the right, muttering a curse under your breath as you hope they're not playing a horrid prank on you. You do not believe Leon has a mean bone in his body to do such a thing, however.

"I'm too old for this shit," you murmur under your breath.

You remember why you work alone; you're used to investigating terrifying places on your lonesome but since you had arrived with two companions and suddenly having them disappear on you, literally vanishing into thin air, has made you uncomfortable even though it could be Gengar pulling the strings.

"Become a Pokemon Researcher, they said. It'll be fun, they said," you groan with frustration as you try the door only to discover it is also locked, "Gengar, show yourself. I know it's you. What did you do to them?"

A faint, scratching noise grabs your attention and you spin sharply on your heels to the locked door to the left.

"...Gengar?"

The scratching intensifies and you stand in your little spot, waiting with baited breath as the door clicks on its latch and the handle pushes down, the door slowly creaking open, revealing a long and pale hand. Bony fingers begin slinking through the small gap and pushes the door a fraction, followed by a pale white face with sunken black eyes.

You freeze, your blood turning cold.

Not Gengar. Can't be Gengar. Different. This is stronger. Darker.

Your eyes grow wide.

Evil.

You can’t help it; your first instinct is to run which you do. You turn away, heartbeat speeding up, pulse racing, palms growing sweaty. A dull ache makes its presence known in your head and your vision begins to blur, nausea hitting the pit of your gut; however, you force your legs to move and you head down the corridor as quickly as your feet can carry you, your breath shortening as the apparition behind you begins to follow.

Client was right. Not a Pokemon.

You dash into one of the rooms, flinging the door open and rushing in, slamming the door shut. You grab a black marker from your bag and pull off the lid, hastily drawing a protective symbol on the surface before you press your back against the door.

A hushed silence sweeps over which you find calming and you hold your breath, glancing at the room you have holed yourself up in.

It is empty, with no sign of anything or anyone.

Suddenly, there is a violent slam on the door which makes you squeeze your eyes shut as the door begins to shake, the handle rattling furiously. Digging your heels into the ground, you hold the door shut as much as possible, biting down on your lip as the door trembles viciously under the weight of the force outside that is trying to force its way in.

You do everything in your power to hold the door shut, not to let it in, but it's too strong and you believe you will not be able to hold it for much longer and soon the door will give in.

What next? Salt circle, good luck charm, earth crystal, iron??

Those choices seem laughable until you realise you had forgotten one important thing.

The Odd Keystone.

It's then you see a familiar stretch of shadow at your feet and you glance up.

"Gengar?"

He stands near the window, looking at you, then at the door, which thumps and quakes behind your back with tremendous strength.

The pounding on the door continues until one mighty push sends your heels scraping one inch out of your spot and you gasp as you're forced to throw your right shoulder against the wood with your hands splayed over the surface. You attempt to renew your strength, shifting and leaning your entire body weight on your right foot, pushing down and pressing your entire body against the door.

"Gengar, help me! Grab the Odd Keystone from my bag!!" you exclaim, even though it has absolutely no obligation to assist you in any way, "It's uh...it's a brown stone, smooth to touch. You'll know it when you see it!"

Gengar looks at you in mild disbelief before it floats towards you and glances at your bag, then sticks its hands inside and rummages inside before it lifts out the item you had described.

"Yessss, thank you!" you gush, "Put it on the floor in the middle of the room."

He does as he is told, funnily enough, and looks up at you for the next instruction.

"Now I'm gonna let go of this door. Stay away from the stone, okay?"

He nods.

Swallowing the thick lump in your throat, you throw yourself from the door and it slams open.

A cold rush of air bursts in and you close your eyes as you hurriedly chant under your breath, "Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio, contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium."

The keystone begins quivering so you continue, a bright light emitting from the fissure.

"Imperet illi deus, supplices deprecamur tuque, Princeps militiae coelestis, satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, divina virtute, in infernum detrude.”

It's a mouthful but an ear-splitting shriek tears through the atmosphere when you finish your chant and as you open your eyes, you see a shadow convulsing and writhing furiously in the air as it is enveloped by the bright light. Unable to break free, the light proceeds to drag it towards the keystone though it resists fiercely and attempts to escape. In a matter of seconds, it is promptly sucked into the keystone and the fissure stops glowing, the stone goes limp and slumps to one side and the room returns to darkness.

Gengar stares before it looks at you, confounded.

Your legs are trembling.

It takes a while for you to calm down.

You decide to wait it out for a few seconds or so before you slowly move to stand.

"...It worked."

Gengar looks at you questioningly as you pick up the Odd Keystone off the floor and hold it up to the air and into the moonlight. You give it a little shake and muffled but horrific shrieking can be heard emitting within. Slipping it into your bag and zipping it up properly, you give it a hefty pat.

"Phew, that's another evil spirit for the collection, and all in a night's work too. If I get up to one hundred and eight, I'll have myself a Spiritomb," you add, nodding to yourself. Turning to Gengar, you say, "Thanks for your help."

Gengar's jaw drops slightly as you murmur a quick prayer to purify the room, then you begin to exit and Gengar follows you keenly.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He looks at you somewhat wistfully, clasping his hands together.

”...You...want to come with me?”

He nods furiously.

”...Really?” you cannot mask the astonishment in your voice, “...But isn’t this your home? And what about your master? Will the rest of the Pokemon be okay without you? What about Zorua?”

He nods again but slowly slides his glance to the side, then he pushes himself off the ground to float in the air, circling you wildly and throwing several dark energy balls into nothingness.

"Oh...that's...wow, I've never had any pokemon say they want to come with me, t-thanks, I'm...I'm honoured. I know you want to fight evil, but I don't do this often. This is just a one off."

He grins anyway.

"Alright then, you can come with me. Let's go find Leon and Charizard for now."

You close the door behind you with Gengar happily floating by your side and when you turn round, dark shadows pop up in front of you and you yelp and stumble backwards, almost falling onto your rear if he didn't grab your arm in time.

"Hey!! Are you alright??"

The Champion stands before you with Charizard and Zorua.

"Leon!" you exclaim.

Unable to help yourself, you throw your arms around him tightly for you are so relieved to see him, eyes curling with happiness as an overwhelming sensation of solace blooms in your chest. You revel in his warmth and the sound of his beating heart which pace matches yours, relieved to be able to hold onto another living and breathing human being.

Taken aback by your hug, Leon grows still whilst Charizard gawks.

You let go of him when you notice how rigid he has become. You must have made him uncomfortable so you are quick to retreat. "Um, s-sorry. So, uh...Where did you and Charizard run off to?"

"Huh? We were looking all over for you. You disappeared."

"...Sorry."

"Never mind, it's fine, I'm just glad we've found each other again so everything's good," Leon says with a grin before he spots Gengar by your side. "What happened?"

"I'll fill you in," you say with a smile, "Let's get outta here first."

...

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