#Icarus Falls!AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

serenanymph · 1 year

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Hello, happy STS! If you had to transform your story into a different genre, which one would you pick and what would it look like?

Happy STS! Oh boy you have no idea what you've just set off. Brace yourself avalanche incoming

Okay SO I actually have a looooot of aus for beast because who doesn't like to daydream and write au snippets for their wip to run from their responsibilities. Most of these are specific fandom aus but I have thought about a sci fi au of beast, so, sci fi it is.

This would honestly change a lot of the tone and turn it into kind of a different story, but I do have a lot of fun thinking about how it would work!! In the sci fi au Beasts are a new line of android soldiers Kosei are experimenting with to keep the peace, with a bunch of fancy abilities such as flying!! Or shooting fireballs from their hands!!! It's all smooth sailing until news breaks that some of the androids' codes have malfunctioned, and they've broken out from their facilities. Naturally the government comes out and apologizes, promises they'll get this solved soon, places bounties and creates a special task force to catch them, etc etc.

Anyway, Crys is just a normal mechanic, about as far removed from this situation as any other citizen, up to the point where a boy with metal wings crash lands in his dumpster. He's about to call the hotline and send up an alert to any bounty hunters and authorities nearby - until he notices one teeny tiny problem, which is: the boy is bleeding. Like, real, red, human blood. So oops. Looks like Kosei has been messing around with human experimentation.

Anyway I went a bit insane over this au so have a tiny snippet :D

All in all, Crys’s day goes pretty normally up to the point where the boy with metal wings crash lands into his dumpster. Well, not his dumpster, per se – just the one of the dumpsters behind his apartment, in a narrow alleyway off from the main street. It’s barely wide enough to fit a hoverbike in sideways, and the red-bricked walls are dirtied with soot and grit. The sky overhead is a watery strip of blue, empty of hovercrafts. The few rows of windows looking down on him, all darkened with grime, are closed as usual – trash collection is only once a week, and the fumes are awful. At any rate, he’s lugging a sack of broken parts behind him, holding his breath, when the boy falls out of the sky. It’s fast, and it happens quite literally – there’s a shadow, overhead, the sound of something tearing through the wind, and then a speeding blur slams straight into one of the bins with a thunderous crash. It’s the one for organic waste, which is why there isn’t a sickening crunch of bone against metal, but it still sounds like it hurts. There’s the glint of sunlight against metal, the silent hum of machinery, of gears whirring and clicking. Crys tenses. All he has is a pocketknife. And then – a groan, and a curse. The figure heaves themself over the lip of the dumpster, and Crys thinks, oh. It’s a boy around his age, or at least, he looks like a boy, because there are metal wings on his back. They’re beautiful – sleek and streamlined and gigantic – but also crooked and missing chunks of plating and spitting sparks. Some of the black paint has been scratched off, showing the silver underneath. Crys knows what they’re supposed to look like because he’s been seeing it all over the city, on wanted posters plastered on every street corner and every shop window, in the pamphlets sent out to every citizen in Kosei. Crows are one of the easiest to spot. The boy in front of him is a Beast. Which means he is not a boy at all, but an android. He is also covered in wounds leaking bright red blood. Crys feels the world slip out from under him. “Ah,” the boy says, meeting Crys’s gaze. His hair is a bird’s nest, dark and wild and sticking up every which way. His eyes are the color of obsidian. There’s a weak, wobbling grin on his face, his face pale with blood loss, which shouldn’t be possible. But you don’t have to be a mechanic to know that androids don’t bleed. Which means that, though the boy in front of him is a Beast, he is not an android at all. “Any chance,” the boy manages, “you can pretend you didn’t see me?” There’s a moment’s pause. The world holds its breath. Crys hesitates, hand halfway to his hologlass. The boy topples over the edge of the dumpster and passes out.

beast taglist: @sapphos-scientist @allianaavelinjackson @arctic-oceans @space-writes @reneesbooks

#thanks for the ask!! sorry for rambling btw it Will Happen Again #actually I have decided sci fi crys is soooo funny #imagine ur just minding your own business and a boy falls out of the sky into your dumpster and now the government is after you #anyway I am trying out this taglist thingy!! from now on I'm going to insert the taglist for any written excerpt from beast #if it bothers you or if there's specific stuff you want to be included/excluded from please dm me or shoot me an ask!!#I promise it won't be a problem to make some adjustments!!!#also wow but icarus sure does a lot of falling out of the sky in beast aus. weirdly it never happens it canon but it happens a lot in aus #the curse of the og icarus mayhaps #it might not look like it but I came up with half of these ideas just a couple of hours ago #ser writes stuff #writeblr #wip: beast #beast #asks #char: crys #char: icarus #beast [sf au]

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dawn-t0-dusk · 2 years

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#62: Theseus fell

When the myths speak of falls and ignorance They refer to Icarus But he was not the only- Not even close. There with many who meet their demise, To their own mistakes and lies. Icarus had fallen but before- he flew. -Its true.

Theseus was different, And there was no glory in his fall. Theseus fell because of pride Because he was content to be ignorant Because his sins were selfish and deliberate

Theseus fell because of a trick Athena’s gamble which paid off Theseus fell for greed, not freedom Because Icarus was a dreamer And Theseus was a hero

When the myths speak of heroes- They will refer to Theseus (the hero) Not Icarus- (the dreamer) Of quests and battles won Not of creation and desperation. That’s alright- We know the truth You and i Icarus fell, (flew) yes- But Theseus fell, too

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miirohs · 5 months

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écoute chérie [c.l.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Assistant!Reader wc: 3.2k cw: assult, possesive behavior (standard for a mob au at this point), bro straight up kills someone, dubcon (again icarus?), shitty french an: i absolutely cannot write but anyways if this flops i'm deleting it and then crying!!! also do you guys ever just write y/n and put her in predicaments and then go womp womp as if you didn't just do that to her? yeah.

It was fairly obvious from the subtle twitch in his jaw, to the shadow cast over his eyes by strands of his hair falling in front, that he wasn’t happy. From the moment you both had left the guarded gates of his mansion, his face has been set in a stony silence.

You’d seen him glance over at you multiple times during the length of the car ride, and it was becoming harder to ignore his erratic behavior.

Just as he looked away you reached for him, startling him from his distracted state as you moved to fix his suit, readjusting his crooked tie and straightening out the collar of his suit. Immediately you snapped back up to him looking at you, a curious look on his face.

“You should be more careful with your suits.” You chastised softly, snapping back to your seat as the heat rose to your face. “Tossing and turning around like that will probably make it wrinkle up.”

He nodded in agreement, giving you the smallest smile he could muster. You could still see the upset in his eyes as he looked at you, and you came to a slow realization of what might’ve been upsetting him.

“Are you mad with me for coming along with you?”

His smile faded a little, the frustration in his eyes visible. He never wanted this for you, but he knew he couldn’t stop you from coming along, so he resorted to simply reminding you why he didn’t want to bring you.

“Mon coeur, I’m not mad at you at all. I'm just hesitant because I know what my people are like.”

You sighed, readjusting the straps of your dress as you looked at him. “Yes Charles, you’ve made that exceptionally clear but i don’t think you quite had a choice. Carlos didn’t even want to talk about going with you.”

He winced at your tone, tilting his head at you as he bent his own head down to your level. “I know I keep saying this, but you don’t know them like I do. I don't want you leaving my side, not to anywhere I cannot see you chérie. Do you understand?”

You took one of his hands in yours, nodding along to keep his anxiety in check. “Fine, I wasn’t planning on going just anywhere, I came with you because that's my job.”

“And your job is?”

“To be with you, twenty-four seven, whenever you need me.” You said teasingly as a cheeky smile graced his face once again, slightly more genuine than the last.

The car came to a stop, and you looked at each other, turning to the door of the car.

“Ladies first.”

You rolled your eyes at him, obliging to climb out first as the door opened.

Your jaw dropped as you looked up to the entrance of the building. You didn’t think you were quite aware this level of grandeur could be possible, and you were honestly expecting something more inconspicuous.

Linking up his arm in yours, Charles bent down a little as you started walking, whispering into your ear.

“You look surprised. I bet you weren’t expecting this, huh?”

“Surprised doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s gorgeous.”

“Wait till you see the inside.”

You continued with him, eyes growing wider at the inside.

Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, intricate detailing all over the grand foyer as you surveyed the walls.

Charles walked with you through corridors, once again tensing up, evident in the tightness of his grip on your arm. You could see an ornate set of doors at the end of the hall, approaching them slower and slower.

You paused at the door, looking up to him as he inhaled deeply.

“Are you-”

“Ready? Of course I am.” He didn’t look at you, but you gave no further thought to his words as the doors opened, the crowds of people gathered visible from the mezzanine you both stood on. The ballroom almost glittered, light bouncing off almost every corner of the room.

“Char, if i had known this was going to be fancy, i would’ve dressed up better.” You said, aghast as he shook his head, looking at you with a hint of affection in his smile.

“You’re dazzling no matter what, mon coeur. There’s no need to worry, you’ll be just fine.”

“I- Alright.” You agreed hesitantly, arm slipping from his as you followed him down the stairs.

There were so many bodies on the floor you had a hard time following him, resorting to holding onto his sleeves to navigate through the crowds. He greeted people, and you did the same in his stead, unsure where exactly you were headed. Suddenly, Charles came to a stop in front of you, and you slammed into him, stumbling back slightly.

“Charles, what just happened, I...” You paused as he stood motionless, stepping to peer from behind him.

Another man stood there, head tilted as you curiously as you moved to Charles side. He wore all black, jacket embroidered with flowers and a necklace that resembled a thorn necklace. He seemed fancy, but something about the way he looked at you made it feel like you were being microanalyzed by him.

“Lewis.”

“Charles. A pleasure seeing you again.”

He nodded, relaxing slightly as the man took his hand, shaking it firmly.

“And who might this be?”

You waved, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I’m-”

“She’s my assistant.”

“Char, calm down.” You chided, ignoring how his tone almost instantly seemed to become sharp, nose flaring slightly. Clearly Lewis noticed as well, raising his eyebrow at how his tone seemed to change so suddenly.

“I’m sorry, my name is Y/n. I’m his assistant, as he mentioned before.” He took your hand, offering you a kiss to the knuckles with a smile.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/n. Are you new or…?”

“This is her first social event with me.” Charles butt in, arms crossed over as Lewis grinned at him. “Hm, I figured half as much. I haven’t seen much of her around, you should bring her more often. She seems pleasant.”

“Wonderful. Now is there anything else you want?” Charles answered, tone short and clipped as you frowned at his sudden defensiveness. Lewis hummed knowingly, sparing you a glance before he went back to talking to Charles.

“The negotiations are upstairs. We were just waiting for you to start, and I think Carlos got here maybe twenty minutes before you?”

He nodded curtly in response, taking your hand as he started moving.

Lewis looked down at him though as he shook his head, pointing to your hands.

“Sorry to break it to you mate, but she can’t come with us.”

“Why not?” Charles snapped, clearly annoyed by his sudden announcement.

“It’d be better for the both of you. I doubt you want her in on the grizzly details, it would only put her at risk, more so than working for you. Leave one of your guards with her if you want to, although I promise she’ll be just fine here.” He knew he couldn’t argue with that, it was apparent in the way his face fell at the realization.

“I have to go now, but we'll be waiting for you upstairs.” Lewis said as he waved goodbye to you, turning on his heel to leave the both of you alone to the side.

Charles sighed, glowering at the man's back as he turned to you.

“Écoute chérie (listen darling), it seems like Lewis has a point.” He started, reluctance written all over his expression. “So I'm leaving you here with one of the guards. I don't want you to put yourself in any unnecessary danger, so please keep them with you and talk instantly if anything happens.”

You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t disappointed, but it did make sense to you. "I understand, Char, I'll be here when you come back."

He visibly relaxed, though there was still a hint of concern in his eyes. "Thank you, chérie. I promise I won't be long."

You gave him a small smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

With a short squeeze of your hand, Charles reluctantly left your side, disappearing into the crowd once more.

Left alone with the guard that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, you took a deep breath, turning around to him.

"Looks like it's just you and me for now," you said, trying to break the ice with the bodyguard, who simply blinked at you.

“Not one to talk much, huh?” He cleared his throat, bashfully turning his eyes away from you.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but i'm pretty sure Mr. Leclerc wouldn’t like me looking at you.” You stifled a sigh, simply flashing a smile at him.

“Would you like to have a drink with me then…?”

“Ollie.” He finished, even more bashful than before as scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “And I'm sorry ma’am. I don’t think I'm allowed to drink on the job, Mr. Leclerc would kill me if something happened to you.”

Awkward silence filled the air as you sighed, looking around the ballroom.

You didn’t think there was anyone you could talk to other than him, so you were stuck with him for the rest of the night.

It wasn’t half bad either, but he followed you quite closely, almost as if carefully noting every single thing you were doing. Even as you made minor convos, he stood beside you, too close for it to be comfortable for either of you. He took his job seriously, a little too seriously, you thought.

At some point, you paused, turning around to him with your hands crossed over your chest.

"Ollie, do you have orders to stand so close? It's making me feel a bit claustrophobic."

He blinked, obviously taken aback by your directness. "I'm sorry miss. I was just told to keep an eye on you, Mr. Leclerc's orders."

You nodded, slight frustration rising up as he mentioned Charles' name. "I appreciate your dedication, but I promise I won't just wander off.”

He hesitated, yet still nodded to your request. "Is there anything I can do then?"

A lightbulb seemed to go off in your head as he asked, a grin stretching across your face as you looked at him.

"I think I'll go get a drink. Would you mind keeping an eye on things here until I come back?"

he relented with a nod, albeit with a hint of concern in his eyes.

"Alright, but please don't wander too far. I'll be right here waiting for you to get back."

You nodded sweetly, yet as soon as you left his field of vision, you grabbed a glass off a tray, pushing gently through the crowds.

You weren’t a lightweight by any means, but there was rarely ever a time where you drank because of your job.

Before you knew it, you’d finished off the glass, abandoning it on the buffet table and grabbing another one as you made your way back into the crowd.

At some point you saw Ollie again, distracted as he talked to two other boys of his same age. You decided not to interrupt, walking past them and slipping through the open doors on the opposite end of the hall.

The air was cool, fragrant from all the flowers planted around the place. As you wandered along the winding paths, you observed the little statues and carefully trimmed hedges, detailing meticulously crafted to fit the vibes of the garden.

But your peace was short-lived, as the unmistakable sound of footsteps grew louder. Turning around, you were met with the leering faces of a group of men, their laughter echoing through the night air as they drunkenly stumbled through the hedges. They were creating a ruckus loud enough to attract a crowd.

You froze, not a sound escaping your lips as you looked at them.

Clearly they hadn’t noticed you, so you took a step back, hoping to get away.

Something snapped under your heel and they all stopped acting buck wild, turning to you with wide eyes.

“Ouh, Qui est cette femme, juste là (ooh, who's that woman right there)?”

Shock ran through your veins as the one who spoke pointed to you, eyes turning towards you in a moment. A couple laughed, one of them whistled, all of them looking you up and down like a piece of meat.

“I think she might be one of those escort people they hire at parties y’know… you think we should greet her?”

Their leering gazes made your skin crawl.

Quickly you turned on your heel, heading in the opposite direction, hoping to lose them quickly as you attempted to get back. Your heart pounded in your chest as you continued, their drunken roasts getting farther from you. You still felt paranoid, but you were pretty sure you had lost them.

As you turned around, a hand shot out from the darkness, grabbing hold of your wrist harshly. You were whirled around to face your assailant, one of the men from the group you’d seen earlier, one of the ones who had whistled at you.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" he sneered, drunken breath hot against your face as he sneered at you, a wicked grin on his face.

He had you cornered against one of the hedges, and you had nowhere to run as he got closer, trying to grab your other hand.

“You’re cute, you think the boss would like it if we sent him back a little present like you-”

You panicked, kicking wildly until you landed a kick to his nuts, breaking free from his grip around your wrists as he staggered back in pain.

“You bitch-!”

The sound of a warning shot silenced his swears of pain, the only thing you could hear now being the buzzing in your ear.

You turned your head, Charles saying something, but you couldn’t exactly hear it as he approached, an angry yet relieved loon on his face.

“Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you?!”

You didn’t respond and he knew why, turning to look across from you at the man who glared at the both of you in anger.

"We'll discuss this later," he said, tone softer this time as he turned his attention back to you, helping you up onto a cold stone bench.

“You. Get lost. Don’t let me see you here ever again.”

"Or what?" The man spat, voice dripping with contempt at Charles' order. "You think you can scare me off with your empty threats?"

“I don’t think it’ll be so empty if i-,” He pulled out his gun from the waistband of his pants, aiming it at the mans groin, then moving to his head, “-happen to give you a demonstration of what exactly happens when you fuck with something of mine.”

The color drained from the man's face. Maybe he had just come to realize who he was fucking with.

“She was yours? I’m sorry, I didn't know!”

“Save it.” He hissed, cocking the gun and aiming it directly at his head. “I’ll make sure that you les fils de putes never see the light of day again.”

It was over in the blink of an eye, with just the sound of a gun being fired, followed by the thumping of a body.

You hadn’t even realized it when he came to you, wrapping his jacket around you as he picked you up, allowing to you bury your face in his neck.

"I've got you," he whispered. "You'll be fine now."

As he turned to exit, Lewis had finally shown up, standing at the entrance with an eyebrow raised at the dead body then you.

“Do i get to ask-”

“No.” Charles answered stonily. voice clearly agitated as he responded to Lewis. “Make sure those creeps get taken care of. I already had the pleasure of taking care of one of them.”

“Duly noted. It was nice seeing you, and you must be busy with… her, so I’ll be off to take care of the others then.” He said, as he signaled to his bodyguards to comb through the area.

“Thank you.” He said begrudgingly as he lifted you up once again.

You could feel him retracing his steps, motion blurred until you stopped at the entrance once more, in front of his car.

Gently, he set you down and you still clung to him, shaking slightly as you climbed into the seat.

He followed after you, directing the man in french as he put an arm around you, pulling you somewhat closer.

“Wh.. what happened to Ollie?”

The look of concern turned to a look of slight annoyance, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

“Even now you’re thinking of someone else, mon coeur. What am i going to do with you?”

You stumbled over your words, yet you were resolute in what you wanted to say.

“Please don’t punish him, i was the one who left him.”

“Don’t worry, no one is getting punished. But you, however-”

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the barrelage of words to hit you, yet nothing did. Instead, one of his hands came up to hold your face, thumb gently stroking your jaw.

“Mon petit coeur, m'écoutes-tu parfois (sweetheart, do you ever listen to me)?”

You opened your eyes, looking at him.

“Do you have any idea how scared I was? That I thought another man took you from me? I warned you what would happen, and yet you still came. See what happened?” His grip on your jaw tightened slightly, tilting your head upwards so you were looking him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"You have nothing to apologize for, mon coeur. In fact, it should be me who apologizes." he murmured, his voice soothing compared to his actions.

“But then why…?”

“Je t'aime (I love you). It’s because I love you, I want you. More than anything.”

Charles's lips met yours in a kiss, overpowering the adrenaline in your veins as he titled his head, pushing deeper into the kiss. You could feel his overwhelming warmth as he pulled you closer, body to body in the back of the car.

As you broke it off, the heat rose to your face at the string of saliva connecting you both. You tried to pull away but he only seemed to get closer, eye to eye with you.

"Charles?" you breathed, longing erupting like your heart, beating against the cage of your ribs.

“Listen to me chérie, I should’ve never let you go like that. You’re going to be mine now, that way I can keep you safe, Is that clear?” He murmured against your lips, voice dark yet pleading. You couldn’t help but look into his eyes, lovesick and blinded by adoration.

With a soft sigh, you leaned into him, forehead against his as you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of his embrace.

There was no escaping him. You were his as he was yours. You could never escape, now that he had you like this.

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aris-ink · 2 years

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this is really fucked up but can you write something like your step brother fucking you in front of your parents? 💀

yes. yes I can. 💁‍♀️💕

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au

warnings: mentions of violence (not towards the reader), pseudo incest, hints of exhibitionism, risky/sneaky sex, choking, dirty talk, praise, degradation, daddy kink, creampie

edited.

"You have no shame."

The words were murmured right into your ear as Jungkook pressed himself into your back. One, little drunken mistake has led to another, and before you knew it you were trapped. Icarus thought he could feel the warmth of the sun and bask in its light without falling. How silly it was of him to dream the wax holding his wings together could withstand the burning heat. How silly it was of you to dream the same the first time Jungkook kissed you.

The flames scorched you, and you landed deep in the possessive arms of the ocean, never to be released. Never to walk on land again, where other people could take your love and attention away from him. As your lips sealed, so was your fate. You belonged to him. His ocean would keep you warm, sated, its floor filled with treasures and gold just for you. You never had to fear its storms or turbulent waters.

Unlike anyone who'd ever hurt you, or try to touch you the way he did. These poor souls were doomed to drown and stay damned forever, their bones serving as a warning and a reminder not to go near the treacherous waters.

His hands felt warm under the blanket, exploring your skin with a loving selfishness. Gentle waves rocking you back and forth.

"Absolutely no shame," he whispered.

His thrusts were smooth, reaching so deep inside you. You couldn't stop clenching around him, wet and hot, making his cock twitch as he fucked you. Panting softly into your ear, he kept one hand wrapped tightly around your neck to help you stay quiet. The couch creaked under you, the movie playing in the background serving as your only saving grace.

Jungkook was tired of sneaking around. Tired of pretending he didn't need you, tired of not being able to put his hands on you whenever he wanted. His mother was right around the corner; her soft humming and the clattering of dishes easily reaching the living room, because the doors weren't even closed. Your father was asleep in the armchair just across from you.

Jungkook couldn't care less.

He lay behind you and grinded into you while you held on to your blanket for dear life. You tried so hard to resist, but the moment he pushed his hips into your ass to hump you, you were a goner.

"Zero consideration for your poor father," he muttered mockingly.

The old man would probably have a heart attack if he witnessed his little girl being defiled, by her step brother no less. Jungkook heard a whimper leave your throat, his movements slowing slightly. He released your neck and kissed your cheek.

"Are you embarrassed?" He whispered again. "Don't- shit. Don't be- mm, fuck. We both know who your real daddy is here, yeah?"

The next clench he felt made him hiss, provided him with all the answers he needed and the motivation to resume his pace. He slipped two tattooed fingers into your mouth and pounded into you faster, the couch too narrow to allow him to pull all the way out. The tip of his thick cock rubbed all the right places inside you, his balls tightening when he felt you suck on his fingers.

"Yeaaah," he groaned softly. "Take it all like a good girl, you naughty fucking slut."

You shivered and moaned, the sound coming out muffled, but not muffled enough. Jungkook shoved his fingers deeper down your throat, instantly shutting you up. His pants were becoming harsher, his breath heavy and hot on your ear.

"F-fuck," he gritted. "Gonna come with me, baby?"

You nodded frantically, your legs tensing, your chest rising and falling unsteadily. Under the blanket, Jungkook tightened his free hand on your abused tit, trying so hard not to forget how easy it would be to get caught. But it was next to impossible when he was fucking you and it felt so good, so good that he just wanted to let go.

"I'm gonna come," he moaned lowly, his lips pressed into your ear. "I'm gonna come, fuck-"

His cock throbbed inside you, your walls squeezing it so tightly he could barely control himself as he filled you up, his cum shooting straight into your twitching cunt. He could feel your thighs shake, your teeth biting down on his fingers. Quiet, raspy ahhhs flowed out of his mouth, higher in pitch for a moment before lowering to something like a grunt.

He stilled behind you, exhausted, pulling his fingers out of your wet, swollen lips. They came out wet as well, glistening with your spit. Jungkook let his head fall down on the couch, his cock still pulsing blissfully inside you.

"Shit," he breathed after a moment. He lifted his head again to press a warm, soft kiss into your lips. "You okay, baby?"

"Yeah," you whispered.

Tenderly, he brushed your hair away from your face. Your beauty never failed to astound him, whether you were dressed up for a night out or just out of the shower. And he couldn't get enough of you, yet it was for many reasons; one of them being the closeness and connection he felt when he was inside you. Safety and pleasure, no storms brewing on the horizon.

It killed him not to be able to show you off. If he could, he'd strangle whoever married your parents. Or one of them.

Ah, so many decisions to make.

He settled behind you comfortably and wrapped an arm around your waist, keen ears quickly picking up on his mother's footsteps.

She peeked inside the living room.

"Dinner is ready! Get your father up, please, I still need to set the table."

Jungkook nodded, lifting himself up on one arm.

"Okay, mum."

She smiled at you both before exiting the room. Jungkook's cock twitched inside you.

"I got them a reservation at a restaurant for tomorrow," he muttered, brushing his lips across your cheek. "Daddy's gonna fuck you all night, reward you for being so fucking good. Yeah? You want that?"

You clenched again, making his breath hitch.

"Yes, daddy," you breathed.

Jungkook bit down on his lip. What his baby wants, his baby gets. It was that simple.

💌 taglist: @wonyuknow @baalsgurl1913 @glowunderthemoon @imnotlauriane @era-genius @silv3rswirls @bucketofhiros @osakis-gf @iceprincessviviane @httpsbts

#jungkook x reader #yandere bts #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts reactions

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atlaswav · 1 month

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EMPYREAN ☾

INFO: 4385 words, dr ratio x gn!reader, college au SYNOPSIS: Art is the practice of capturing life in still motion, and yet Dr Ratio can never seem to capture your beauty in its entirety in his sketches. His waking thoughts are clouded by images of you, the bane of his existence. He hates it, but can't resist. The Gods - if there are any - are cruel. WARNINGS: none! for once! except attempted kiss. AUTHOR'S NOTE: my head hurts so bad rn and i need sleep but there were thoughts in my mind. also i think its really boring lowkey but hey! i said i'd publish something by sunday! also i think his characterisation is really off today but oh well.

Divinity wasn’t real. There were no real Gods, they didn’t exist – couldn’t. Science proved such. Miracles were situations of insurmountable luck, and no one’s fate was “ordained” like astrology maniacs liked to think.

But when Icarus fell from the great skies of myth, reaching for the sun and Gods and the heavens beyond, Veritas Ratio was sure that the gnawing terror and morbid awe that seized that man at the sight below was familiar to him. That sprawling city touched by the sublime sun, smiled upon with the benevolent God peering through the clouds whose gaze melted fragile wax.

He was sure that that fear and unprecedented awe was the same as when he first glimpsed you.

His fall, however, wasn’t graceful or worthy of any legend.

“Oh– you alright?”

“My apologies, I–” he glanced up, leaning down to immediately pick up his sketchbook which had fallen to the ground, then he froze.

“...Are you okay?”

This, he wasn’t certain. You helped him gather his supplies again, and he thought he’d never see you again – there were so many buildings and so many classes, why would he? But as if fate was stringing him along, he wound up sitting next to you for his art studies class. The class he convinced himself he needed to take for a proper education.

Icarus’ fall was met with swift demise, and he was so sure that he would too. But who was he to compare himself to legends? Even still, why else would he be stricken by the malady of your existence, if you weren’t some overwhelming beauty that his greed desired to capture?

Art, however, could not capture life as any man would like. It could never catch the way light reflected in the eyes, illuminating the soul. Neither the delicate intricacies of a smile, a twitch of muscle, a beating of a butterfly’s wings, the delicacy of life.

Try as one might, however, Dr Ratio aimed to do this, anyway. Charcoal was his chosen medium, pervading clean paper, marking intent, focus and desperation.

He remembered you casting him a smile before seating yourself beside him, and all his doubts in taking the art course dissipated from his mind – despite your literal run in moments before.

You became immersed in the artwork at your fingertips as the professor chirped about something he should’ve probably been attentive to, but to him, it was now entirely meaningless. Your cheeks lifted when you smiled, creasing the corners of your eyes. Your hair fell over your face in graceful lines that framed your features, and your hands moved with such gentle dexterity that he yearned to capture them in his drawings. Your eyes narrowed in the slightest as your brush met the canvas, mouth agape with your fixation on your art.

The charcoal snapped, and Veritas Ratio likewise snapped from his immersion, frowning at the dark lines that marred the page.

In his sketch, your eyes were obscured by a wall of smudged black ash instead of the curtain of hair that covered your features. Ratio sighed, leaning back from the desk. Your eyes were now downcast on your palette as you mixed paints.

There was a divinity in you that he yearned to capture, like sunlight in a jar. Futile, but with noble intention, he swore to himself.

Then, there were more classes. More days that passed, more instances where he observed your habits, your artwork that had you enrapt, just as he imagined his own perverse captivation with you. There were more charcoal sketches in sketchbooks that never saw the light of day, ones where your smile was too wide, didn’t meet your eyes, or didn’t carry the exact expression that yours projected.

Art could never imitate life – Veritas was simply mortal. But mortals could always dream of something divine.

There were times where he left the classroom for a moment, and he feared you might glance over at his sketchbook to see the hundreds of sketches of yourself. Smiling and frowning and focused, the end of your paintbrush sitting absently between your lips, your gaze cast to the side, small splatters of paint smudged under your eyes and on your fingers. It was unsettling. He knew it himself. There had to be an extent to his observation when it became invasive, yet he feared losing your presence without ever capturing it in still motion.

This is when a man grows desperate.

“May I draw you?”

“...draw me?” you glanced towards him, reluctantly tearing your gaze from your own work. “Why?”

“A study.”

You smiled a half smile. An expression that he was familiar with, given that you were already halfway through the semester. Still, there was nothing to your encounters but smiles of courtesy and niceties (he’d never admit that he so desired more).

“Sure. Show it to me later.”

Now, Dr Ratio discovers, there are few things that may disturb a man’s endeavours when he is enrapt in his studies. None of which affected Veritas in the slightest as his charcoal became dust on his fingers and he clicked his tongue at the material’s reluctance to bend at his will.

None of which can successfully capture the being that is you, and he isn’t sure he wants to, anymore. Art isn’t made for the eyes of greed, it’s made for the soul that yearns for the cure of the senses. Or so the greats all say, but he thinks he cannot be one of them. He couldn’t imitate life, he was versed in the calculations of life instead.

Caught in his thoughts, he taps his – new – stick of charcoal on the edge of the drawing pad, frowning at the new sketch he was pondering.

“You’re really good.” your voice echoes from behind him.

He turns abruptly to find you standing behind him, head tilted as you examine his sketches. Your nose scrunches the tiniest bit, and your eyes crinkle with a hint of mirth.

“Does my nose really look like that?”

“Of course.”

You laugh at his blunt reply. “Can I see your other drawings?”

There are over seven thousand languages that still exist in the world, and Veritas Ratio cannot think of a better, more dire way to say no than to agree completely.

“Of course.” He flips through his sketchbook quietly, letting you glimpse his insanity. You were making him lose his mind, really. He watches your expression – how your eyes widen, your lips part, your brows furrow.

“Did you do all of this since the last lesson?”

No, but he wouldn’t say that –

“No, I've been studying you for a while.”

– Or maybe he would.

Your laugh is another divine thing that he wishes he can capture. “Oh God, I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. You make a good muse.”

“Do I?”

He nods, biting his tongue. He doesn’t want to incriminate himself any further than he already has, and he’s already become a stalker to you.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Yes. Undoubtedly.”

“Consider me flattered, then…”

“Dr Ratio. Veritas. Veritas Ratio.”

“...Veritas.”

He loves the way your lips mouth his name. He’d never say it to your face, though. This, at least, would die with him.

“Well, thank you. You may return to your painting.”

You huff a laugh. “So formal. I’m nearly done, so I don’t really have anything urgent to worry about. Meanwhile you…”

He’s inclined to agree. The professor was checking everyone’s progress the next lesson, and he still hadn’t grasped what he thought to have been perfect.

“Ah. Right.”

“Do you want me to like… pose for you or something?”

He hesitates. Why? He doesn’t know. Maybe something about morality and art and the truth, but he doesn’t care anymore. “That… would be ideal.”

“Alright, but you’ll owe me as well. Deal?”

This is how Veritas Ratio finds himself pacing his apartment, fixing his hair in the mirror, dusting the tops of the bookshelves that line the walls and polishing the kitchen counter so that each surface is devoid of any evidence of his own guilty conscience.

His anxieties were immediately multiplied hundredfold when you knocked. He waited a couple of seconds – to not seem too desperate, with his heart racing out of his chest – then finally opened the door.

You stood there, smiling with such casual ease that he found himself wanting to know everything about you.

It was absurd.

A tiny, suppressed part of him welcomed it.

“Hey, Veritas,”

There it was again, the unfamiliar way you said his name, smile widening. He decided against a verbal reply, instead nodding and guiding you into his living room.

“You’re so… clean.” you glanced about the apartment, marvelling at how almost every surface had a shine to it. But it made sense, once you saw him sitting at the couch, already observing you with the unshakeable gaze you’d felt since that first class.

You weren’t entirely oblivious to his stare, just as you weren’t unobservant with the way his cheeks dusted with pink the day before – and today, it seemed – as he made eye contact.

You smiled, and watched him blink a couple of times before turning away with a cleared throat.

“Yes. I can’t stand a mess of any sort.”

“Figured.” you shrugged, standing next to him. “So, where do you want to start? What should I do?”

He hesitated for a second before directing you to the armchair across from him. “Just sit there for now. We’ll start here.”

You complied, allowing him to hurriedly arrange the folds of your clothes and angle of your limbs with fleeting touches.

He appeared nervous, but it was endearing.

Minutes pass by in silence, faint scratching of charcoal on paper filling the space between you. The sunset’s light poured in through the balcony behind you, casting a dramatic shadow over the armchair. Purple, orange, yellow – you wondered if that scrutinising look he gave you was disapproval or awe. There was no way of telling, with his complex set of facial-expressions.

But interpreting him through guesses wasn’t how you envisioned this would play out.

You cleared your throat, but he didn't glance up. He held the sketchbook up next to you, but quickly returned to the page, making harsh lines across the page.

“So… Veritas?”

His head snapped up, stray strands of violet hair splayed across his forehead. “Yes?”

“Why did you take art?”

His eyes narrowed on you. Examining, maybe. “I felt as if I needed to. For a well rounded study, of course.”

You laughed. “Of course you did.”

At this, he paused. “What do you mean by this?”

“Your reputation on campus. You have… what, four degrees? You’re famous.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, never putting down the charcoal, but tapping it against his fingers instead. “Oh? What else have you heard?”

“Well, they say you’re insanely smart, but you’re also pretentious.”

He frowned. The way his brows scrunched was endearing. “I’m not pretentious. Everyone else is simply far underqualified.”

“They also say that you’re an elitist.” you laughed.

Concern only grew on his expression. “Do you think this of me?”

You shrugged. “I’m yet to form an opinion.”

He nodded. “Good. Wise.” he said, almost as if reassuring himself.

“...How long will this be, though? I can only sit still for so long.”

He blinked, turning to the sketchpad again. “Not too long. I promise.”

“Can we go out to dinner, afterwards?”

At this, he choked. You stifled a laugh at the renewed blush on his cheeks.

“Dinner? Why?”

“You owe me, don’t you?”

This is when he realises that he was a fool in allowing you in, to allow the muse of his most divine visions to become human.

He’s greedy, though. No one and nothing can change this. He wanted more of you. He wanted to hear each thought that crossed your mind and know each little item that occupied your attention. He wanted to dissect your mind and examine your memories and behaviours like an insect splayed under a glass, and he wanted to understand you so well that he became sick with the thought of you. But in his mind, you could do no wrong. You were so divine; with your secret smiles that held secret thoughts, and knowing glances that examined his frame with an artist’s scrutinising eye.

“Fine. Just let me finish up.”

So you stay put, and you return to the thick silence that envelops the room. The clock ticking above the armchair only taunts you as your limbs begin to ache from lack of movement.

Scratching on paper, huffs of exasperation, the occasional tearing of a page, and he finally sighs, rising from the couch. The sun had long since set, only remnants of daylight still lingering on the sky’s deep blue. The light was gone. You wondered if he’d captured the sun in his drawing, as well.

“It’s done. Not good as the professor would like, but it will do for now.” he said, running a hand – dusted with black – through his hair. His forehead was coated in splotches of black thumb prints.

You similarly rose from the armchair, stretching, and walked over to the drawing on the coffee table.

You didn’t realise this was how you looked to him. Your features were only emphasised in the dramatics of the sunset, the slight turn of your lips and curve of your cheekbones accentuated with the shadows. He’d taken artistic liberty, you realised, in painting you within the sun’s dying light.

You almost looked divine.

“Holy shit.”

“Does that hold a negative connotation?”

“Veritas, you’re crazy.”

“...negative?”

“It’s so…” you met his gaze which was already searching yours for a reaction. “It’s brilliant. It’s so, so good.”

His shoulders relaxed as he sighed. “Good. Let’s go to dinner, then.” he turns to leave, but you stop him, grabbing his arm. You found that it was hard as chiselled marble, and almost want to find out exactly what’s underneath, but you dismiss the thought.

“You have something on your forehead.” you point.

He frowned, rubbing his forehead with the same hand that had been gripping the charcoal for the past hour. Smudged it even further. His forehead was thinly coated in black ash.

You sighed. “Here, let me.”

He leaned down for you to wipe the stains, hair hanging over his eyes. He smelled faintly of the library with its old books, and partly of ink with something deeper. His eyes darted around to meet anything but your gaze, long lashes fluttering, crimson red eyes matching the shade of his complexion.

You make him nervous, you confirm with delight.

“There. That’s the most of it.” you withdrew, and he stood back up quicker than you thought possible.

“Alright, dinner, then.”

“Dinner.”

“I’ll go and… wash up.”

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

He realised how much he was doomed as the sky started to pour with rain, just as the two of you stepped outdoors, beyond his apartment complex.

“How far is the place you wanted to go?” he asked you.

“Not too far. Let’s just keep walking.”

He shrugged, falling into step beside you. His steps were terrifyingly large, as would make sense with his tall frame.

“So what are your interests?” he blurts out, staring at the ground as he walks.

“Well, art, obviously,”

“Yes, of course, do you think I’m dense?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I will interpret that as sarcasm.”

You laugh, and as if the heavens had heard you, the rain began to fall heavier, darkening the landscape, tingeing the air with smells of petrichor and a cold that wasn’t there before.

Ratio thought it was ironic. A pathetic fallacy of his doomed fate.

“You have to be kidding me.”

He sighed, massaging his temples with his fingers. “We are unfortuitous.”

“...You could’ve said unlucky.”

“I choose not to associate myself with idiots.”

You chuckle as you attempt to cover your head with your arms, running to the nearest block for shelter. The rain, however, doesn’t desist. It continues to pour until you’re both soaked through – his hair soaking wet, sticking to his forehead, white shirt clinging to his carved abdomen that you desperately try to avoid looking at.

“Should we just go back?” you move your hair out of your eyes, squinting in the relentless downpour. Through the slight shelter of the building behind you two, the rain pours heavy as ever, unlikely to cease soon.

“I was waiting for you to come to that conclusion.”

“...Why didn’t you offer it first?”

Because he thought you looked good in the rain with wet hair. He wanted to remember the image – burn it into his eyelids – before he returned to sketch it. Number of things he’d never say aloud: two.

“I was waiting for you to come to that conclusion yourself.”

“Pretentious.”

“Thank you. Now can we hurry? It’s only getting heavier.”

His situation, ironically, then becomes even more perilous. A series of unfortunate events, unfolding like a train of misfortunes. First, your meeting – strikingly uncomfortable for both of you, he imagined (it certainly was for him) – then your failed attempt at dinner, interrupted by an unforgiving rain storm. He didn’t think it could get much worse. But there was always room for improvement, as he knows better than anyone, the academic that he is.

There are, now, puddles of water throughout Dr Ratio’s apartment that he hadn’t bothered to clean since you got into his shower.

You, in his shower.

He wonders if there is a God, somewhere out there, delighting in his torment. It was never supposed to devolve into such interactions, only observing you long enough to capture your beauty on the page.

He wonders if you know he is thinking about you often as he does. Thinks you’d be completely repulsed by him. This is what frightens him.

“Veritas?” your voice echoes from within the house.

He gets up from where he’s sitting in a puddle near the kitchen, racing to the bathroom at your call. Did he manage to miss something incriminating in his bathroom? He’d made sure that every surface was bare before you entered, had he not?

“Yes?”

“...This is embarrassing. Can you please get me a towel?”

This felt like one of those cliches in romantic comedies that Ratio’s colleagues liked to watch. Mindless scenes of dry humour and burlesque attempts at “comedy” he found appalling. It was happening to him, now. Spiting his academic rigidity.

“Of course. One moment.”

He tries not to think about you, standing completely bare behind the door, as he sticks a hand into the bathroom, head turned away. If you looked closer, you’d have seen the bright red shade of his ears – but to his merit, you take the towel, shutting the door, a muffled “thank you” audible through the door.

He sighs, sitting on the floor beside the bathroom.

Whatever Gods there were, were bestowing great suffering on him today.

It takes a couple minutes for you to finish up in the bathroom. Another few more for him to wash up, and another handful of minutes for you both to be seated on the couch together in awkward silence.

You wear one of Ratio’s old shirts and shorts, scrolling on your phone, and he is sitting, arms crossed, on the opposite end of the couch, staring at you again. Outside, the rain still pours in unceasing rivulets, dissipating any ideas for going out for dinner.

He thinks his clothes look far better on you than on him. Thinks that you were made for this world and its inhabitants, crafted so perfectly. Wonders what wouldn’t suit your wear, because he can’t imagine anything that you couldn’t look good in.

“Okay,” you say, turning off your phone to stare back at him, “I ordered. Should be here in about ten minutes.”

He nods, and averts his gaze.

You smile. His behaviour is amusing.

“Veritas?”

“Yes?”

“What are your greatest fears?”

“Excuse me?”

You shuffle closer, and he notes a glint in your eye that suggests mischief. Teasing, as he’d seen before. “What are you afraid of? Like, the dark?”

“Nothing.”

“Boring. Come on, there’s gotta be something.”

He frowns, brows bunching together as he stares at the wall. An easy, natural habit. “Nothing. Fear is irrational.”

“Right.” you laugh at his blatant refusal to cooperate with you.

“Am I being funny?”

“No,”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re being so… unexpectedly childish.”

“What?” he seems to prickle up with indignation. “What do you mean?”

“Your stubbornness to just answer my question, and the way you’re…” you gesture to his posture, the way his arms are folded and he glares at the wall. “Behaving. It’s childish.”

“Well, what are you afraid of? Nothing, right? It’s a stupid question.”

“I’m afraid of insects, the dark, I could go on, really,”

Veritas glares at you, meeting your eyes for a second. “Fear is stupid.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you scared of holding eye contact?”

At this, he blinks. He turns to face you, still frowning, but his gaze flickers between your eyes and the rest of your face. Your laugh only makes him roll his eyes.

“You really can’t hold eye contact, can you?” you say through a fit of giggles. “Have you ever dated?”

“Yes, I can hold eye contact,” – but not with you, it seemed. You intimidated him – “And no, I haven’t, it’s a distraction.”

“From what I’m seeing, you can barely even be near me without blushing.”

He blushes, breathing a sigh of exasperation.

“Dr Veritas Ratio’s one fear is making eye–”

Then he grabs your shoulders, forcing you closer, and holds your gaze with such intensity that the words disappear from your lips. You blink as his stare bores into yours, crimson eyes deep, shining with something unfamiliar to you that you realise you want to decipher.

People like to say that eyes are the windows to the soul, and Veritas Ratio’s was ridden with something that burned like the sun's dying light.

It’s then that you realise how close you are to him, how his firm grip on your shoulders softens and his touch drifts to hover above your jaw, how he smelled so inviting, familiar and distant all at once, and how his lips were slightly parted, how they looked so soft –

Knocking, at the front door.

You both tear away, and he stumbles to the front door to collect your delivery.

You never regret anything more than this moment.

“Delivery.”

You nod, obscuring your face with your hair as he sets down your meal on the coffee table.

You’re both back to silence, pleasantries and common niceties as the meal passes.

Neither of you meet the other’s eye.

Time ticks away as you finish your food and clean up, wiled away by carefully weighed words and half-met glances.

He hates it.

He hates how you were looking at him with such curiosity, and he hates how he let you tease him. He also hates the delivery man for not being delayed by the rain, but he also hates himself for not ignoring the knocks on his front door.

“I think I should go now.”

Yes, that would be best. “Why? It’s still raining, you could stay.”

“Well…”

He knows your dorm is far from his apartment complex. He knows that you’ll have to trek through the rain, and yet he also knows that if you stay, he won't be able to sleep. He still has images of you – fresh in his mind – to sketch onto the page.

“It’s no trouble.”

“Okay. I’ll stay the night.”

“You can sleep in my room.”

“But–”

“Don’t argue.”

Somehow, you’re inclined to do as he says.

Time, like all things, passes too quickly and too slowly all at once. Without time, nothing exists, but with it, it’s all too agonising to live through.

This is exactly how Dr Ratio feels as he sits at the coffee table, the small space dimly illuminated by a lamp, as the entire apartment is still. You’re probably sleeping, as he reminds himself, tearing another page out of his sketchbook, unsatisfied with his own hand.

The rain was now tame, a steady rhythm to his never-ending endeavours to capture your beauty on the page.

Maybe it’s when the charcoal snaps in his hands, or maybe it’s when his lamplight flickers that he decides that capturing life in still motion is helpless – a pointless and impossible venture that can never succeed.

You’re too deific to fit into a world of his creation.

What are supposed to be your eyes – painted with fervour, but lacking depth – stare up into the ceiling as he dozes off, charcoal falling from his hand, eyes drooping closed. Slivers of moonlight cut across your painted face as he slumps onto the table, snoring softly.

—

You wake to sunlight in your eyes, blinding and harsh, and realise where you are.

It all smells like him – that scent that you can’t place that smells good, and a lingering smell of the library with all its papers. It all smells like him, and when you walk into the living room, you find that his own apartment is completely devoid of any sense of himself.

But when you find him slumped at the coffee table, lamplight still illuminating the space with its curtains drawn and rays of sunlight peering through, he’s obsessed with you.

You’re unsure what, exactly, to feel. There are abandoned pages scattered all throughout the space, and unfurling one, you recognise your own face staring back at you.

Each and every drawing is of you – your hair wet, clinging to your skin, you drowning in his clothes far too large for you, or your face painted with curiosity and entrapment.

It’s you through Veritas’ gaze, and you think that beyond all else, he made you look divine.

When Veritas Ratio wakes to his papers – all wrinkled and partly torn – sitting in front of him, neatly arranged with a note on top, realisation hits him, but he can only laugh.

“Veritas Ratio’s greatest fear: eye contact with the person he’s obsessed with. Completely irrational – even though he can draw me perfectly from memory. A shame, really. Looks like you’ll have to invite me over to pose for you again.

So you can get my eyes right, of course.”

written by @atlaswav , published 26th of August 2024

#dr ratio x reader #hsr dr ratio #ratio x reader #hsr ratio #dr ratio #veritas ratio #veritas ratio x you #veritas ratio hsr #veritas ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #ratio hsr #ratio x you #hsr veritas #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #ratio honkai star rail #dr ratio is desperate and really stupid giggles and kicks feet #his characterisation might be so fucking off im sorry #☁️. writing

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lara-cairncross · 3 months

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masterpost weewoo ✨✨

general art tag general ask tag

🧚hidden hollow au / rottmnt fairy au stuff:

au tag fanart/fanwriting tag "ask mikey" tag

original designs (this is kinda outdated now lmao)

brief intro comic

april -> leo size comparison

mini lore comic 1

info about mikey's talent

general idea for wings + shell anatomy

mini lore comic 2

info about leo's talent

mini lore comic 2.5??? (not important just funny to me personally)

shelldon exists. kinda.

thingy about their fangs (good color ref)

TURTLE TOTS

usagi intro!

raph shell ref

mini lore comic 3

ref for donnie's markings (kinda)

ao3 fanfics (from most recently updated to oldest)

link to my Ao3 page

are you lonely yet?

-> 6/? chapters, 11k words, english, Donnie- and- Mikey-centric.

notes: uhhhhh mikey gets hurt in a very damaging way. donnie blames himself big-time. they both think the other is mad at them. emotional angst woo hoo, but also kinda fluffy i think? also pretty heavy on disaster twins stuff

now it's red, now it's dead, now it's--

-> 1/2 chapters, 5k words, english, Mikey-centric.

notes: set in the Bad Future timeline! follows mikey's slow ascent into becoming something Other. lots of angst-- depression, disassociation, suicidal ideation, major character death, etc etc. probably my favorite fic that i've written? idk I love writing OP mikey!

the sun is a dying star

-> 3/? chapters, 10k words, english, mikey-centric but bounces between POVs

notes: started off as a one-shot but i got too ambitious for my own good. mikey is not having a good time. blah blah blah turtle-gets-kidnapped-by-scientists-or-something, but i wanted to focus more on like, psychological damage than physical damage. not sure when/if this one will get an update.

pizza bagels, communication, and other life-changing novelties

-> 1/3 chapters, 3.4k words, english, Miles- and- Mikey-centric.

notes: SHELLSHOCKED FIC WOOHOO !! THE ONE AND ONLY TIME I WILL WILLINGLY WRITE ROMANCE! uhhhh two teenagers pining for each other and doing dumb shit together and angsting about being children with the weight of the world on their shoulders. IT'S FLUFFY AND CUTE I PROMISE

it's golden hour somewhere

-> 1/1 chapters (completed), 7.4k words, english, Mikey- and- Karai-centric.

notes: one-shot. Karai POV, but focuses on turtle tot Mikey. basically the Hamato Sacrifice isn't the only curse that plagues the clan, and Mikey is the most recent Hamato to come under fire. predetermined fate and all that shit. fluff and angst. this one's kinda weird ngl I remember nothing about writing it or getting inspiration for it lmao

the icarus complex

-> 2/2 chapters (completed), 10k words, english, Raph-centric (and also kinda Leo-centric in second chapter).

notes: deals with Raph's PTSD following the Kraang invasion, and one possible coping mechanism he could fall back on. spoiler alert it's NOT a healthy one lmao. definitely one of the more interesting fics I've written in my opinion; I did a lot of research for this one to make it as realistic and respectful as I could. another personal fav :)

equivalent exchange (and other things that give Leo a headache)

-> 1/? chapters, 2.5k words, english, Future!Leo- and- Mikey-centric.

notes: another Bad Future timeline fic, this time with Present Mikey accidentally ending up with Future Leo. follows the two of them trying to figure out how to get Mikey back to his timeline. I still love this concept, but idk when I'll get around to updating it tho lmao

that's where the blood's supposed to be!

-> 2/2 chapters (completed), english, Mikey-centric.

notes: Mikey gets hit hard during a fight but brushes it off, and it comes back to bite him later. takes place after the show, but before the movie-- right when the whole Leo vs Raph kerfuffle is at its peak. questionable medical information but I did my best lmao. this one's kinda old and cringey atp but whatever

other stuff

fanart for 3 months au tag

fanart for golden future au tag

glass turtle keychains example

College Fund (aka my Ko-fi page :>)

#I FINALLY MADE ONE #ARE YOU GUYS PROUD OF ME #GOOD ENOUGH FOR NOW

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goldenocie · 22 days

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Yo I forgot about this draft but essentially: fablesmp fairy tale AU but I try to connect everyone somehow. All of the player characters are here so it’s sort of a long post

Fable- evil king. The snow queen. Witch. Motive unclear but he’s trying to amass more magic for…something??

Icarus- Snow White. They lived a comfortable life in the palace until they showed power of their own and the king ordered them to be killed. Now lives with a bunch of birds in the woods

Rae- Cinderella. Despite being the late queens son, he is treated more like a palace maid. As kids, he and Icarus had a bad relationship but it got better as they grew up. He finds comfort by going down to the sea and speaking to the nice mermaid who shares stories of their life and by also sneaking chats with his fathers huntsman

Momboo- Sleeping beauty. The oldest of two sisters who were born of pure magic and somehow nothing else. She was able to escape the king when she was younger and he attempted to capture her, though he still managed to place a curse on her. Her life force is directly connected to a tree he planted and once it grows to full size she is destined to prick her finger on one of the branches and fall into a death like slumber. She lives in hiding now, the fairies that saved her are still around her occasionally

Ocie- Rapunzel. The younger of the magic sisters, she was not as lucky as her older sister and was locked in a tower by the king at a young age. It overlooks the sea and that’s all she’s ever known. She truly believes the king cares for her like family and that she is locked in there for her own protection.

Wolf- the Huntsman and the wolf. The former huntsman of the king, the king sent him to kill Icarus but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He lied to Fable, however this was found out and he punished him by turning him into a wolf.

Oscar- somehow all of the three little pigs in one. He made all three houses and got chased out of all of them :(, a wolf chased him to a tower which he climbed up and found a lady inside!

Centross- Robin Hood. Is definitely in love with one of the kings huntsmen. Centross witnessed him get turned into a wolf and tried to kill the king over it. However, the king framed him for Wolfs disappearance and guards chased him out of the city. He got chased out into the woods where he came across a weird guy with a lot of birds who definitely looks a little familiar. They fought for a bit until he got chased again to a tower that looks like it might hold something valuable

Jerry- Guard archetype. This criminal he’s chasing has been blamed for the disappearance of his best friend and while Jerry doesn’t believe that wolf is dead, he does believe that centross is to blame.

Athena- Little Red. A Prince from a now destroyed land being raised by their mother in the woods. She warned them not to stray from the path but damnit there were shiny things out there… They were chased by a large wolf before running into a strange person with many birds. He’s staying with them for the time being until the coast is clear…

Jamie- Goldilocks/beast. Jamie woke up one day as a small bear cub with no memory. Unbeknownst to them, they used to be a prince but was cursed by the king to become a bear. They broke into the house of some humans but was quickly shooed out after trying their food, chairs, and beds. They found a small cottage shortly after with a nice lady inside

Easton- jack and the beanstalk. Following the death of their parents, Easton had to sell their favorite cow (rip Martin) at market. They were offered three magic beans in return and…for some reason…agreed. Easton planted them but for a while nothing happened. A week past and suddenly- big beanstalk sprouted. Easton found a city in the clouds and attempted some theft, much to the dismay of the giants. Along with numerous other injuries, they lost their sight escaping but was taken in by a kind woman who brought them to her home.

Ven- Kai (The snow queen) Broken shards of the kings shattered magic mirror embedded into Vens heart and eyes. He now serves the king faithfully. The shards have turned him cruel and he can no longer see the beauty in anything besides the kings magic. Only those who have been at the castle for a while know about the kind natured person he used to be. Icarus was able to slightly melt the shards in his heart but was unable to completely do so before their father found out.

Caspian- Prince Charming 1. The brother in a set of two siblings sent by Queen Soraza as a peace envoy. He is adopted by the queen though still has rightful claim to the throne. While at the castle he has been seeing some odd things…perhaps more will be uncovered at the solstice ball that he’s attending. He is here for diplomatic reasons and to keep the allusion of peace. He’d much rather be doing anything else as this trip has already been taxing on him. He also was thrown from the ship while coming into port and considers it nothing less of a miracle that he didn’t drown…now if only he knew how.

Arisanna- Prince Charming 2. The only biological child of queen Soraza, nonetheless she does not wish for the throne. Ari does not trust anything here and the tree in the courtyard has particularly caught her eye… the flowers are gorgeous and it’s so vibrant. It’s almost…magical. She is here to investigate the claims that the king is putting curses on people.

Aax- the little mermaid. Interested by the humans, aax has been sneaking up to talk to a boy named Rae who’s he’s pretty interested in. However things take a turn when he watches a man get thrown overboard off a large ship during a storm. The man he saved was dressed very fancy and Aax left him on the beach despite wanting to stay and talk. Aax was told later by rae that this was actually the visiting prince! He wants desperately to follow Rae, to actually meet the man he saved, to not be stuck in the sea. When going to meet Rae on the beach later he finds a different man who offers him a deal in return for legs.

Ulysses- Triton/ the sisters(the little mermaid). Aax’s adopted parent, Ulysses is not very fond of Aaxs decision yet he is still trying to look out for them. After finding out about the deal, Ulysses looks more into it and finds a way for Aax to get out of it in time without losing his life. He’s not super ethical about it but he’ll be damned if he loses another family member to these humans.

Addie- Miss muffet. She owns a spider themed cafe! It’s called “the web” as she’ll always have information for you…just bring something to share as well! Addie lives on the outskirts of the kingdom as she does not wish to be anywhere near the king.

Haley- the mad hatter. A frequent customer at The Web, nobodies actually seen her out of it… most of her rambling means nothing you’re sure…hopefully. The king cursed her with madness long ago but that curse seems to actually have given her a large amount of knowledge of things she shouldn’t know.

Isla- fairy god mother. Nobody knows how she achieved this power nor how she escaped the king. The common people believe her to be dead. She has created a flaw in the kings otherwise unbreakable curses, causing true loves kiss to be the remedy to all of them. Perhaps she has experience of her own to speak from?

I didn’t wanna add too many gods cause honestly that would just make this so much harder but I did try to include all the players! This is already a very long post. Go ahead and try to add the existing gods in if you’d like! I just ask if you’re adding onto my stuff not to move anyone out of a slot

#fablesmp #fable smp #fablesmpblr #goldenoceana #rae fablesmp #icarus morningstar #prison duo #fablesmp wolf #centross fablesmp #jerry fablesmp #fablesmp oscar #fable smp easton #fable smp arisanna #fable smp jamie #fable smp momboo #ariboo #ghosty fablesmp

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