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thelampisaflashlight · 7 months ago

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Lukewarm

[Something, something, Dew is like a computer without a fan. RainDrop. Some mild angst/brief mentions of sickness, but nothing too crazy.] Below the cut.

Dew heaves a sigh that seems to take all the energy from his body; He sags deeper into his chair, tired, but not overly so, though still too worn out to right himself as he slips deeper into the faux leather.

One too many long nights of tinkering with his equipment, working on his own projects not associated with the band or the church -while also doing everything asked of him for the band and the church- has left him beyond drained, to the point that he can't even bring himself to be mad about it, just...

Tired.

With a yawn, and slightly watery eyes, Dew settles further, into a pose that doesn't look terribly comfortable, but feels amazing on his aching joints, and lets his vision narrow down to what can be seen between his lashes.

It's not long before he begins to slip into unconsciousness, nearly passed out in his chair, head tilted awkwardly to the side in yet another painful looking position, but it feels nice... at least for now.

He knows he should probably get up, go to his room, to his bed to sleep, but thinking about all the notes and guitar parts and all the other bullshit he'd have to remove from it -with care so he doesn't lose any of the mess he's made- has him set firmly in place.

Short of being carried to bed, he's not moving.

At some point, one of his packmates comes along to prod him, to see if he's awake, or simply checking to see if he's feeling alright, but Dew can barely keep his eyes open, and his response to being touched is to lean away from them, not liking the warmth of their skin on his already hot body.

He overheats quite easily when he's tired, unable to pool enough of his magic to keep his temperature in check, and it leaves him feeling a tad feverish... which also makes it quite difficult to motivate himself into moving.

The next thing he feels -shocking him into opening his eyes wide- is the press of an icepack to his exposed neck.

He doesn't have the energy to full-on yell, and instead lets out something between a bark and a yelp, an undignified reaction overall, but an honest one.

He follows the the arm holding the offending object to his neck up and up until he makes hazy eye contact with a frowning Rain.

"C'mon, let's get you cooled down." he says, shifting the icepack to the center of Dew's chest, lifting his arm up with his free hand to make the other ghoul hold it for himself.

Dew obliges as best as he can, making a contented chirping sound as he feels the coolness spreading through his body.

Cooling down after a flare up like this always leaves Dew feeling a little off-kilter; In a lot of ways, it feels like the aftermath of being drunk, not quite into the hangover stage, but definitely headed that way, and even though he wants to remain stagnant, Rain is right to get him cooled down before it does get to that point.

Leaning against Rain's cold shoulder, Dew lets himself be guided back to his bedroom, and then further still into his bathroom, where Rain makes him sit on the floor while he cleans off his bed.

The tile is cold, and Dew finds himself splaying himself out upon it, pressing himself into it and once more contorting himself into a pose that is outwardly uncomfortable, but soothing to his aching body.

"...Gotta put it away in the..." he mumbles, trying to tell Rain how to tidy up his mess, but with his cheek pressed to the ground as it is, he isn't making terribly much sense.

"I'll put everything together, don't worry." Rain assures him, shaking his head as Dew eyes him from the floor, "Don't look at me like that."

"Can't look at you any other way..." he says, curling into a ball for a second before deciding the sudden warmth from his own body tucking into himself is too much and flopping over again.

"You have to stop overworking yourself." the other chastises, finally joining him in the bathroom once more, "You're going to cook yourself at this rate."

Dew closes his eyes.

"Mn, gotta stay busy, Rainy... Can't..."

"You can." Rain says, "You can take a break."

Dew frowns.

He'd argue some more, except he can feel Rain's fingers weaving through his hair, and the soothing circles he draws against his scalp have him drifting off again.

"I'm gonna turn the shower on." he informs him, slipping his hands under his armpits to hoist him up again, "I don't trust you in here alone, so I guess we're sharing today."

"Kinky..."

Rain rolls his eyes, or at least Dew feels like he does, his own are still closed, but the mood shift is palpable.

"You worry me..." he sighs, pressing a little kiss to the side of his forehead, "It's not kinky, it's practical. Can't have you slipping and falling and cracking your head on the faucet, now can we?"

Dew makes a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat, letting out a soft hiss when the first droplets of water hit him.

"I know, baby, you'll get used to it." Rain placates, pecking his overwarm cheeks, "Just want you to stop being so hot, yeah?"

"'m not hot, 'm cold..." Dew pouts, but even he can feel the steam rolling off his body.

Rain holds him still, and as Dew comes back to himself enough to feel cold, he wraps himself around him to shelter him from the water just enough to start working on cleaning him up a little.

Dew grumbles through much of the process, unused to the water ghoul handling him quite so roughly, or perhaps it just feels rougher because he's so achy to begin with, but when he lets out a noise of genuine hurt, Rain is quick to cease his scrubbing and instead moves onto rinsing him off.

"Well, you don't feel nearly as warm, but you're still running a bit hotter than I'd like..." Rain announces after dressing Dew in just enough clothing to protect his modesty -not that he had much of that to begin with- and laying him down on the bed, "...I'll talk to Aether and have him come up here to make sure you're not coming down with something..."

"'m fine... Just sleepy..." Dew yawns, "Wanna sleep..."

"Okay, baby, you get some rest, but if you start to feel sick-"

"If you're worried..." Dew opens his eyes, peering up at him in an almost coy manner, "You should just stay with me."

Rain snorts.

"I would if I could, you know that, but I have to help Papa set up the practice stage, and I know for a fact you won't sleep if I'm here." he comments, brushing Dew's hair out of his face, "Rest up, yeah?"

"Yeah..."

"Dew?"

"Mn?"

"Love you."

"...Mn, love you, too..."

#lamp writes #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #raindrop #rain/dewdrop

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algea · 10 months ago

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Ghoul School

prompt: you, Lucky, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lars go to investigate a spirit infested school, but ends badly for you.

Ummm basically enemies to lovers?? idrk tbh LOL

warnings: idk scary stuff? cussing! sexual tension! um you smoke 1 cigarette and thats it. GORE!!!!!!!

a/n: I’ve been thinking of this since I saw the movie…

*THIS IS A SUPER LONG STORY!!!*

“A school? Are you serious, Lars?” You mutter, running a hand down your face and sighing.

“I wish. What’s your grudge against a school anyway?” Lars said, cocking an eyebrow at you as he turned to look at you.

“Well I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that kids still go there. It makes me sick how they have to experience that while being in an environment where it’s supposed to be safe and welcoming.” You explain, tapping your fingers nervously on your desk. Behind you, Lars sighed,

“Well that’s why we’re going innit? So stop worrying about it so much.” You snapped your head when heard the door open. In trudged a slime covered Trevor, Lucky, and Phoebe.

“Lars, I need your help with something!” Lucky called. Lars stood and strode to her, his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than they should’ve. Trevor had a proton pack on his back, which was slightly smoking from the interior.

"Piece of shit only fizzed when we tried to turn it on, know a way to fix it?" Trevor asked, gazing up at Lars. Lars' face was stone cold, probably because he had to deal with the dumb shit Trevor stirred up.

"First off, it's not a piece of shit. Second off, did you even try to figure it out?" Lars scoffed, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.

"Give it to me, I'll see what I can do." He sighed, obviously not wanting to deal with him anymore. Trevor basically shoved the proton pack into Lars’ arms, which didn't waiver when he received it. Hot. You thought. Lars trudged to his station and set the proton pack down. He removed the protective covering, and coughed when smoke blasted in his face. You snickered, which earned an unimpressed glare from him. Lucky appeared beside you, ready to talk about what else you've come up with her to test.

"What is it?" She asked, tinkering with the item on the desk.

"You know how there's buckshot for a shotgun? I've figured out how to compress protons into little pellets and create a buckshot-type stream." You explained, showing her how it would work on a sheet of paper. You heard Lars muttering about something, though you brushed it off. You handed Lucky a few pellets, which contained about 12 rounds of buckshot each. She eagerly shot off into the test room, excited to try it out. With nothing else to do, you shuffled behind Lars, peering over his shoulder to watch his hands work efficiently. Lars really didn't know you were there, truly he didn't. So when he turned around to go get something from his desk, he jumped back.

"Good Christ you scared the shit out of me!" Lars exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest and letting out a big sigh. He shoved his glasses back up his face and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to watch you work..." You trailed off, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

"Well maybe next time maybe fucking keep to yourself." He snapped, brushing past you, his hand grazing yours. You just stood there, hands clenched and cheeks burning in embarrassment. Phoebe stood next to you, putting a hand on your arm and whispering,

"It's ok, really, he doesn't mean it."

You couldn't help the tear that slithered down your cheek. Blinking away the rest of the tears, you muttered an 'excuse me' and walked outside of the lab. Taking a left, you headed through the doors to the cool breeze outside. Stuffing your hand in you pocket, your hand found purchase on the cig case you had. Sliding one out of it and grabbing your lighter, you lit the cig up and shoved the lighter back into your left pocket. You sat against the wall and pulled your knees to your chest. Hearing the doors open, you see Trevor walk out. He spots you and slides down the wall, sitting next to you.

"It's not your fault. It really isn't." Trevor offered, watching you let out a sigh, smoke going with it. You laugh, dragging a hand down your face.

"Listen, don't ever fall in love, man. Shit sucks." You sighed, resting your head against the cool brick. Trevor started to say something but the rest of the three burst through the doors. Lars was wearing his red jacket, walking towards the car. Lucky was carrying yours in her arm, right on the heels of Lars. He spotted you and Trevor sitting down against the wall. Trevor hopped up, offering you a kind hand. You took it, cigarette still in hand.

"Put that shit out." Lars commanded, crossing his arms. You glared at him before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out. You dropped the rest on the ground, twisting your foot against it which successfully put it out.

"Happy?" You huffed, throwing your arms out in surrender. He just stared at you before pushing past you to get to the car. 'Bitch' You mutter under your breath. God he’s insufferable. Following them, you hopped into the passage seat. Lucky handed you your red jacket, which you put on before you buckled up. You zipped it up all the way burying your face in the collar. Lars watched you from his peripheral, drumming his fingers on the wheel.

“Are gonna stare or drive the goddamn car?” You snapped, turning to gaze at him. His hand tightened on the wheel and started to drive.

To say that Lars was a good driver was a pretty big overstatement. You were even lucky you made it to the school alive, much less in once piece.

“You are never ever driving again, Lars.” You said, stumbling out of the car as a wave of nausea hits you.

“Stuff it.” He replied, pushing up his broken glasses. You turned your gaze to the school, which stood ominously in the distance. You shivered, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lars. He took a small step closer to you, his hand ghosting the small of your back. You jumped slightly at his feather touch, but relished it. Lars flicked on your switch, making your proton pack hum with the familiar ‘whirring’ sound. You walked to the front steps, pushing open the two massive double wooden doors. You were blasted by a cold air, which you stumbled back from.

“S-shit.” You muttered, hands shaking ever so slightly. You reached for your flashlight, but froze when you saw a shadow figure dart through the darkness.

“Lars.” You whispered, a lump forming in your throat. Lars was off busy helping the others get their packs on, which meant you were the only one at the front. You felt something tugging you forward. You stumbled back into the school following the tugging sensation to a room downstairs.

Lars looked up, about to ask you something, when he noticed you were gone.

“Where the bloody hell did Y/N go?” He asked, looking around. His question was answered when he heard your frantic screams coming from inside of the building. They all looked at each other, then bolted to the building.

The building was absolutely freezing. That you were certain of. The frigid temperature fucked a little with your head, at least that’s what you can conclude. You found that being able to see in the dark was not your forte, which caused you to fall down a flight of stairs.

“OH FUCKING SHIT—!” You screech, tumbling down the stairs. You landed with your head cracking against the cold floor. Groaning, you tried to lift your head, but you felt like you were spinning like a top. You eventually stood, swaying slightly after. You blinked a few times, holding your head in your hands. In the corner of your eye, you could see another shadow figure. It was tall, tall enough to reach the ceiling. It started to approach you, but you let out a scream, starting to run back up the stairs. You felt a push, then you tumbled back down the stairs, smashing your head into the pavement again. You landed on your knee, successfully snapping the bone in your shin. You let out another bloodcurdling scream, spitting out blood in the process.

You felt lightheaded as blood spilled from your shin and lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. You were in too much pain to cry as you crumpled to the floor again. You heard all three of them yelling your name, but you couldn’t yell back. Instead, you pulled yourself across the floor, leaving a long streak of blood as you went. With as much effort as you could muster, you pulled yourself to the steps. It took everything for you to scream,

“LARS!!!”

Footsteps could be heard, which sounded like heavy boots clomping towards you. You clawed at the steps, trying to grip anything that you could to pull yourself up. The blond man appeared in the doorway, shining a flashlight down the stairwell. Lars hair was tousled, eyes wide. You make out how he was panting, as well as a horrified look painted across his face.

“oh my god.” Was all he said. He rushed down the stairwell to get you. You couldn’t make out much of anything, you kept fading in and out of consciousness. His hands, his strong and elegant hands held your face as he tried to keep you awake. Your breaths became labored again as you felt extreme pain rippling through your limbs. You let out another scream, which was muffled by Lars chest as he picked you up and started to rush you outside. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, gently stroking it with his thumb as he ran to the car.

Lars felt like it took years to make it to the hospital. His red jacket was drenched in your blood, but he couldn’t care less about what he looked like as he rushed you into the ER. Immediately after, you were rushed into a room, where you would reside for God knows how long. Lars sat next to Lucky, his face grim. He didn’t care how long he had to wait to see you again, just as long as he could see you. Lars stayed there all night, into the morning to be able to see you. When they told him that he could see you, he ran to your room as fast as he could. There you laid, eyes closed, face peaceful. When you heard the footsteps, you opened your eyes and found the blond man standing in your doorway.

“Bloody hell, I thought I’d never see you again.” Lars breathed as he approached your right side. Your hand lay limp on the top of the bedsheet. He brought up a chair and sat, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

“I was so scared that you were going to die, I couldn’t bear to see it.” He further explained. You smiled weakly and croaked,

“Are you being nice right now? That’s so unlike you Lars.”

Before you said anything else, Lars pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t your ideal first kiss with him, but you relished the feeling.

“I didn’t save you because I thought it was the good thing to do, I saved you because I love you.” Lars whispered, his nose brushing yours.

“God I love you too, Lars.” You whispered back.

#ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters #lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield #james acaster #lars pinfield x you

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etherealily · 4 months ago

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guilt // f.odair

[1/3] Long. this was queued, idk if I've already promised another character before this is out.

Part 2 : Art

Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings : Cuss words, SFW but discretion advised, mature themes.

Desc. : But is it in his nature?

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

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'Suck on his sellout cock, go ahead', your mind taunts you as you traipse behind him into the Victor's Village, a place where you simultaneously hoped you'd live and you'd never step into again.

See, Finnick had always dominated your childhood.

You grew up watching him charm the nation, be welcomed back to the District like he was God.

One of your biggest flexes was that you got to see him in person in a parade once, when he'd come back from one of his many Capitol visits.

However. That all changed once you became fifteen. Because you'd finally got some fucking sense and realized that the people at the Capitol, the Hunger Games, none of it was fair, it was all fucking shit.

And you hated Finnick all the more for it.

Prancing around, doing promotions, adverts, sending children to die, being the Capitol's bitch. You'd narrowly escaped your last chance to be reaped, but you still wished he'd choke on his ridiculously expensive Capitol meal.

You couldn't respect him.

But. But, it wasn't like you'd ever tell him that, though. Because when Finnick Odair talks to you, you fucking talk back.

And when he tells you he wants you to come back home with him after seeing you by the ocean one night, you go, no matter how much you'd rather fucking kill yourself.

"This is my house.", he smiles, and waits expectantly, as if you're supposed to applaud.

"It's nice."

He doesn't look disappointed or surprised at that. In fact, he seems mildly entertained. "Get in."

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"And then, maybe, just bring your hand up the side of your leg? Yeah, yeah, just like that. Okay, yeah, sweetheart, that's it."

Click.

"And this is for..."

"Modelling."

"For the Capitol?"

"Who else?"

You raise a brow, your mind immediately picturing some rhinestone encrusted Capitol asshole getting off to a picture of you. You shudder.

"I'm joking. It's for me."

"For you?"

"Feel free to look around.", he says, offhandedly, as he looks through the camera at all the pictures he'd just clicked of you. "Maybe something will catch your fancy."

"You brought me here to... take pictures of me and... let me take whatever I want from your house?"

"I'm a weirdo, sweetheart."

"What will you do with the pictures?"

"I dunno. Can't publish them anywhere. I guess I'll just use them.", he mutters, more to himself than you, but you catch it. He looks up and then clarifies, "To improve my photography skills."

Thank fuck.

"Why me?"

"You're a good subject."

Your fingers move almost fluidly past various things, bottles of expensive liquor, watches, jewellery that he probably stole from his long list of Capitol lovers, and a single, slightly pathetic looking conch.

"I'm a subject? Like... math?"

He snorts. It's condescending, he's aware - there's no way you'd know. You've never been out of the District.

"It's photography lingo. A subject is who you're taking photos of. You have the correct facial structure for my lighting to illuminate you how I want it to. Hence, you're a good subject."

"Oh."

He continues flicking through photos and adjusting the background, taking a few trial shots with the result of his tinkering, until he seems to notice that you haven't spoken in a while. "You like the conch?"

"It's pretty."

"So are you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ugh. There he goes again, back to Finnick Odair, Capitol man-whore instead of Finnick, photo geek.

You turn to him. "How much did it cost? Twice the wine?"

"I didn't buy it. I found it, back when I was eleven."

"You've had it for almost a decade?"

He licks his lips, his hands pausing their scrolling of the camera's gallery for a moment. "I guess it has been a decade."

"What was it like, though? When you won?"

"Won? Won what?"

"The Games."

"Oh. Uh... bittersweet."

"Bitter? Why would it be bitter?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Sit down."

You know the truth. He just didn't want to admit that there was nothing bitter going on. He won because he was hot, and now, he continued reaping the benefits of his genetic lottery win.

You sit, still looking up at him as he comes to kneel in front of you, turning his camera to you. "What do you think?"

The pictures he's taken of you have an unsettling ethereality to them. In one, you're looking out the window with your back to the camera, your outfit hidden by a rose he'd apparently been holding in front of the camera.

A white rose.

It featured in every fucking picture, so much so that you almost asked him about it. Key word : almost.

In one of the more lighthearted ones, the rose sat in your mouth.

"They're pretty nice."

"Is your vocabulary limited to those two words? Pretty. Nice."

"I don't know what else to say."

He regards your face for a moment - like, really fucking observes you - before fiddling with some knob on the camera. "Take off your clothes."

That shouldn't have surprised you as much as it did.

"What?"

He looks up, confused. "Take off your clothes and I'll take some pictures."

"What? No."

"You don't want to? But you were okay with all the previous pictures."

"Yeah, because I was clothed."

"Being unclothed is a problem for you? Being exposed? Hm? That bothers you?"

What?!

"I- look, man, I'm not trying to offend you."

"But you are. You said you'd let me take photos of you. You are not your clothes, are you? You are your self, your soul, your body."

"Yeah, but I'm just not comfortable."

'Y'know what, sweetheart, people do shit they're not comfortable with all the fucking time. Twenty-five/eight. If you can't deal with it, you're weak. Take. It. Off."

You had a feeling there was another reason he was so angry about your non-compliance, but you didn't push it.

"Please don't make me do this."

"Fine! FUCK! Am I asking you to suck my cock? Huh? I could, y'know that? I could've, but no, I asked you to help me make art, and you chickened out!", he yells, his finger scarily close to poking your eye.

Finnick Odair was no longer pissing you off.

Finnick Odair was genuinely scaring you.

"Just get out.", he mutters, setting his camera down in defeat on his couch. "Get out, seriously."

You don't even have two seconds of backing-away-time before he stops you again. "What if I killed your family?"

That scares you more. "What?"

"What if I killed your family? Or at least, threatened to? Would you do it? Would you?", he asks, and now, he's not angry at you, or frustrated, he's more desperate, frantic, as if your answer would shake his fucking world.

As if your answer would change his self perception.

"Please don't kill my family."

"Would you suck my cock if I threatened to kill your family, Y/N?!"

"YES!", you scream, flinching, almost. "Yes! I would, but please, PLEASE don't!"

Finnick Odair gazes back at you with relief, and you want to strangle him. "You would, wouldn't you? You'd do unspeakable things for your family, yes?"

Well, of course.

"Things that would make your skin crawl. Not just because you love them, but because you're responsible for them. Because you got yourself into this mess."

He's no longer talking to or about you, that much is clear.

"And it's up to you to keep them away from it."

Slowly backing away, you try your hardest not to show up in his peripheral, to make sure he stays in whatever zone he's in.

But he is Finnick Odair. So he doesn't even look up at you as he instructs you. "Don't take the conch." Like stealing from him was the first thing on your mind.

"Wasn't planning to."

"Don't tell anyone about today."

"Wasn't planning to."

"Stay."

Wasn't planning to.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Stay."

The apology only solidifies your urge to stab him in the gut. "I have to get home."

"I didn't mean stay the night. I don't want you staying the night."

Finnick Odair, as you had begun to gather, was debilitatingly honest.

"I just mean stay for a while. Have dinner and then go."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner. I have turkey from the Capitol."

"What's that?"

"It's a kind of bird. It's just like chicken but better."

"What's chicken?"

"Another kind of bird."

"Oh."

He frowns at you for a moment. "You're not okay with eating birds, are you?"

"They're just... very rare, so I don't see why you have to kill them."

He sighs, looking around the room in deep thought. "I could make fish. You know fish. You like fish."

You do know fish. You do like fish. You nod.

~~~~

Finnick's fish is unlike any you've ever fucking eaten.

Living in District 4, you'd figured you'd had fish every way it could be cooked. But no.

You can't help but take more. And more. And more. You weren't hungry, and momentarily felt guilt, thinking about kids in the other districts who were, but it was divine and you couldn't bring yourself to care much.

"You like that?", he asks, from opposite you, raising a brow in amusement.

"It's really fucking good."

He whistles lowly. "Ooh, nice, vocabulary expansion. So you do cuss. I was afraid I'd corrupted you with my rough Capitol language.", he muses, looking at your plate. "You have room for dessert?"

"Doesn't everyone, always?"

He nods. "That's fair. Cake?"

CAKE? This Capitol whore managed to bring cake back to District 4?

"Sure."

That was divine, too.

"You like that, too?"

"Yeah. It's really good. The Capitol has it really good."

"The Capitol is filled with cunts who throw up food because they want to taste more."

Was that... disdain? Interesting.

"Well, seeing as you spend most of the year there, I just thought..."

He stands, clearing the plates. "What? That I was one of them?"

You watch him go into the kitchen, taking a sip of water as you do. "No, just that... no, yeah, I did."

"It's okay, I get that a lot. I just... I gotta go, do these promotions, adverts. I have to. I made a deal."

You sigh, standing and pushing the dining table chair back to its original position. "Contract?"

He clenches his jaw momentarily, before nodding, his shoulders tense. "Yeah. Sm'n like that.", he grins, his dimples emerging once more. Thirteen year old you would have swooned and fainted and died.

Eighteen year old you just lets him lead you to the door.

"I'm leaving for the Capitol tomorrow. Along with the tributes from this year."

Why he's telling you this, you have no clue.

"You should come and wave me off."

"Do we know each other well enough for that?"

"No, but I know you know the tributes well. One of them goes to school with you, doesn't she?"

Yes. Little Faye.

"Yes, she's in the eighth grade. I used to tutor her."

The reality hits. She will probably never be able to high-five you when she gets a question right again.

"You should give her courage.", he suggests. "Going in thinking you're going to die will get you killed. Let her know she can make it."

"Can she?", you ask, quietly. The answer will ruin you, you can tell.

"She's a Career."

"Yes, but can she?"

"Chances are slim." Finnick fucking Odair. Finnick "debilitatingly honest" fucking Odair. "I won't tell her that, though."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Finnick."

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His hands grip your chin and you swear you're about to kill him. You look up at him, hanging out the open door of the train carriage and holding onto you, and you're half tempted to pull him down with you because what the fuck was he doing?

You can feel it coming, the urge to slap him away, but then again, it's still Finnick FUCKING Odair, and you're not sure if there's a law against rejecting his advances.

So you just kind of let him kiss you. It's not bad, no, far from it, it's just... unexpected.

Considering it's in front of every camera in the district.

Considering you'd only known each other one night.

Considering his last words were 'you're the only thing I care about.'

Considering he said your full name an unsettling amount of times.

Considering little Faye was watching and wondering why you were calm enough to be making out with some hot guy instead of sending her off.

Considering now the entirety of Panem was either going gush at you or rush at you.

~~~~

You can't bring yourself to watch the news.

Everyone assumes it's because of Finnick.

But, ironically, Finnick's the only one who knows it's not.

It's because of Faye.

"Finnick's on TV.", you're informed at least twice an hour.

"'Kay.", is your usual response. "Faye?"

"I'm sure Finnick trained her well. And besides, the 11th is this weekend! You'll find out."

Right. You'd been invited by Snow him-fucking-self to the Capitol. Apparently, the cameras outside your house weren't enough. He needed you there, with Finnick, for promos. While children were dying.

You receive gifts from your family, your neighbours, your teachers - basically anyone you'd breathed around - for your journey to the Capitol, as if you're going to some dreamland.

As you ride the train, your head against the seat, you try to imagine this is the train that leads you out of District 4. Your family will be waiting at the destination - in your head, an actual dreamland - and you'll be fine and dandy.

As you're escorted out, you imagine you're hanging from the ceiling in full display on the TV instead of Faye having to go through the Games.

And as you're directed to Finnick's room, you imagine slitting his throat. It's funny. You almost laugh. Then, the door opens.

Dimples.

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

"How is it you've never worn lip tint before?", he mutters, tutting as if you'd just misspelled a basic word. "C'mon, pucker up.", he instructs, his thumb smearing red on your lips.

You have no idea what you look like and you're not sure if you want to find out. "I thought you were a merchant."

You shake your head. "No, I said I live by the merchant sector of 4."

"Not in it?"

"Of course not. Why would I have been picking seashells to make necklaces out of if I were a merchant? I just sell shit in the marketplace. Doesn't make me a merchant."

"I mean, technically... yeah, it does.", he says, his thumb accidentally slipping and smudging your makeup over the left of your cheek.

"Right, well, I'm not merchant class.', you shrug, trying to wipe the results of idiocy that was Finnick Odair off the side of your cheek.

Finnick... seems to get it. He nods along as he continues trying to de-plague your face with makeup.

Guilt is etched on his face. Regret, a tiny bit. Sadness, festering throughout.

"What's that look?"

He doesn't seem like he's out of whatever thought he was in moments ago when he hums in response, before quickly leaping towards his bedside and taking his camera, holding his thumb next to your bottom lip, with your still messy lip tint just about seen. Click.

"What's that look?", you repeat.

"What look?"

"That one.", you say, pointing to his face as if he can see it.

"That's my sorry look. I shouldn't have sprung the kiss on you. It was a dick move.", he says, gently moving behind you and guiding your shoulders to manoeuver you to face the mirror.

He says it as if he already knows you'll forgive him.

Yes, you do. But it irks you that he seems to assume that.

"Yes, it was."

"I'm sorry. What do you think?"

"I look like the 12 escort."

"Trinket? No, no way. You look great.", he assures, and you try to believe him, but you haven't seen yourself in makeup before and it doesn't look as though it's you standing there.

"Beautiful.", he says, as an afterthought, almost, as if he were trying out the word to see if it sounded right or not. He seems to decide on the former. "Beautiful.", he repeats, nodding.

That gets your attention and you take a second glance, and suddenly, you see what he sees. The makeup isn't subtle and hidden, but it isn't what the Capitol wears. It's... pleasant.

He brushes some hair in front of your shoulders. "See? Beautiful.", he reiterates, like he can't get enough of that word now.

"You sure I'll fit in here like this? Like... dressed up?"

"Yeah.", he says, vehemently nodding before doing that thing when he looked in your eyes again. "Well, mostly. I mean, I'd prefer it if you had the easiest time possible, 'cause I kinda got you into this mess."

You nod. That checks out. "Thanks."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

The night sees you staring at the ceiling while Finnick breathes softly in sleep beside you. It's pleasant. Domestic, almost. Like what Finnick wants, you think. Like the Capitol believes, you know.

He shifts and your eyes snap shut. Why you're so afraid of him finding out that you are awake, you don't know, but you are. He reaches out, his knuckles grazing your cheek with enough purpose that you realize he wasn't asleep in the first place, either.

And then he does it.

His hand reaches out, gently feeling around for your hand, before he grips the middle three fingers on your left.

He squeezes them softly, then brings them to his chest, where his own hand lays. That's it.

You watch him actually sleep until he mumbles, shifting again. 'Y/N?"

"Yeah?", you respond immediately, kicking yourself internally. Cover blown.

"Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Scared?"

"Mhm."

"Of the photos we took today? I promise, the makeup isn't bad, and you won't have to take any more - they'll publish them and pass them off as taken over a few months, so it's not-"

"No, for Faye."

Silence. "Oh."

"I feel like I didn't get to even tell her how well she's going to do."

"You can see her."

You can what?

"When?"

"Well, not in person, but we can watch the live feed of the Gam-"

"Yes. Yes, please, thank you.'

He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Yes, absolutely. When can we?"

"Well, technically, it's always streaming, so I, I guess we can go now."

You nod.

He raises a brow as if he never expected you to agree. "Okay, uh, just, uh... gimme a second to wake up, okay?"

He comes out of the bathroom after washing his face to find you pacing, biting the inside of your cheek. "C'mon."

~~~~

The Viewing Room is desolate except for a few Gamemakers' Assistants (GAs), that have to watch footage 24/7.

"We have to record these things all the time, just in case something happens during the cover of nightfall", he explains, as he walks in front of you and gestures to the large screen in the opposite side of the room. "Usually, the stronger Careers, from 1 or 2-", he cuts himself off. That was not what you needed to be hearing right now.

He watches as you slowly walk up to the screen, as though the soft glow from it could lead you to Faye. Your eyes dart around the entirety of the enormous screen, looking for something - anything - to announce you of Faye's survival.

"She is still alive. You'd have heard a cannon and seen a picture of her if not."

It's not the most comforting thing he can say. He's usually better at this. God, if he didn't miss his old self, but the guilt of essentially using you to keep Snow's interest off his family and on you, the - to the extent of Snow's knowledge, anyway - love of his life, isn't exactly letting him be warm and inviting to you.

But he wants to. Let it be known, he wants nothing more than to do what he usually does. Brighten people up.

"Where is she?"

"WE'VE GOT A RUNNER!", calls one of the GAs and your head snaps to a blue triangle tracking one of the tributes on the screen, and you run over to that side of the massive screen.

The lights come on in the room, and people flood in. Sponsors, gamblers, Gamemakers. Because this is prime TV. He imagines every screen in the country lighting up, because you have to watch. Every child has just been woken up because the feed's back on.

"Who's the runner?", someone asks, and Finnick turns to you, diligently tracking the blue triangle with your eyes. Blue. Ocean. District 4. It's Faye.

"Girl from Four. The boy's already dead."

"How much did I have on her?"

"Oh, c'mon, you didn't have shit on her! No one thought she'd make it this far."

"Fine, fine, but now how much?"

The sounds of cruelty almost have him zoning out, going back into Capitol-Party-Finnick-Mode. That is, until, you call him.

"Finnick?"

He rushes to your side, a guilt induced speed to his gait. "Yeah, y'okay?" No the fuck she isn't. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Who's the gold triangle chasing her?" Gold. Luxury. District 1. CAREER.

"Uh..." Deliver it softly. Sweetly.

"Unless she's a shapeshifter, the girl's DEAD!", laughs one of the sponsors. "It's my tribute, the Career boy from 1 chasin' her, with... wait, zoom in? Oh, yeah, a dagger!"

Your eyes widen and Finnick wants to kill himself. "She'll be fine. She can swim, he..."

Can also swim. Fuck.

"... he won't be able to keep up with her." , he says, finally.

Partially true. District 1 Careers didn't have access to the ocean, not like those from 4, so it was very much possible that he wasn't trained to know about tides and currents and shit.

There's a moment where no one in the room says anything. Because they both just jumped into the water, and Faye went under.

Finnick holds your head to his chest as you cling onto him in fear. It's not even remotely close to making up for what he's planning to put you through - well, already putting you through - but he at least feels a bit like the old him. The one who could actually comfort.

The tribute from 1 splashes around a bit, looking for Faye. You've turned a bit now, your head's still in his chest, but half your face is facing the screen. You're watching, anxious as ever.

"She's not drowned.", he mutters, stupidly. Duh.

"What if something pulled her under?"

Oh fuck. Yeah. Valid point.

"I'm sure it's just a strategy."

One that he remembers teaching her.

Maybe if she uses this and beats this District 1 Career, he could be one more step closer to gaining your forgiveness, and his redemption.

For a crime that the victim wasn't even aware was being committed.

The Career flounders around a bit more, screaming, clearly, but the audio is muted here. He looks around, not willing to look under, in case that might trigger the release of any muttations the Capitol cooked up for them.

And then, he's tugged a bit, his leg down, and he springs away from the motion. Please be Faye. Please be Faye.

He's jerked fully under, and a splash of Faye's hair can be seen before both disappear underneath the mildly murky waters, a struggle very evident in the way the water's splattering about.

Suddenly, it stops.

Faye leaps exhaustedly onto the bank, gasping for breath.

A cannon goes off. Florian Jentry. District 1 , Luxury. Score : 10.

Finnick holds onto you tighter as you sigh in relief. He softly kisses your hair because he doesn't know what else to do.

Relief is the only possible emotion to feel.

No one's happy. No one's sad. You're only either relieved that your loved one isn't gone, or relieved that they're not gone in a torturous way.

Wait, scratch that. The patron who just bet on Faye is happy.

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

Text

Exactly my cup of tea. [George Weasley x reader]

Title: Exactly my cup of tea

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor!reader, background mentions of Cho x Harry.

Timeline: Set during OOTP (mentions of Harry and Cho’s canonical date on Valentine’s Day 1996)

Summary: After Harry’s failed date with Cho at Madam Puddifoot’s, he tells the reader and George all about it. They decide to check out the place for themselves.

Warnings: Brief mentions of sexual acts, no smut or detailed description. Friends to lovers. Just a big ball of fluff 🤍

"Ughr I'm telling you, it was awful," Harry groans as he throws himself onto the couch next to you in the Gryffindor common room. George, who is sat opposite you in a little armchair looks up from tinkering with his newest invention and gives Harry a look which tells him to carry on. Harry looks around to check no one is listening in before he continues. "It's that stupid teashop! She talked about Cedric the entire time, cried through most of it and when I briefly mentioned Hermione she stormed off and disappeared."

You and George's eyes met very briefly as you tried to stifle the giggles that were threatening to spill out of both of you at the awfulness of the story but you quickly recovered and tried to console Harry.

"It was probably just too soon mate, she probably felt guilty that she wanted to go out with you so soon after his death," you reasoned, earning a slight nod from Harry, who had listened to your opinion.

"Yeah but how long does she need?" George says with a tone to his voice you couldn't place.

"What, you think she can just get over it like that? If it were-." You began to say, only to cut yourself off sharpish when you realised what the next words out of your mouth would be. George gave you a strange look and Harry seemed to be completely oblivious as you carried on. "It's not the same for everyone, these things take time, especially when it was such a shock like that." Both boys silently agreed and we carried on talking about the whole debacle until Fred and Lee joined later on. Harry had described in excruciating detail the floof and frills of the tea house, with its chintzy furniture and outdated wallpaper that looked like a remnant from someone's great grandmothers house. The conversation quickly diverted as Fred began waffling about an idea for a new product that had piqued George's interest and had lost Harry's.

George tinkered with the project a little while longer whilst Fred talked you into designing new packaging for his new idea and drawing up a basic plan for how he wanted it to look. Only when Lee had fallen asleep and had slunk down and dribbled onto Fred's shoulder did you all declare that it was time for bed, seeing that the common room had been vacated by everyone else hours ago.

"I'll be up in a minute," George says, ushering his brother and a very sleepy Lee away. Fred pauses, waiting for you with an outstretched elbow for you to take but you also say you'd be up later with George so he shrugs and walks off to bed.

"So, Harry and Cho..." George says with a smirk, chuckling to himself. You had to giggle back, finally able to now that everyone had disappeared.

"Do you think she meant to take him there? Like, for the reason everyone else goes?" You asked, still laughing.

George looked up at you with confusion for a second, "what, for tea?"

"No you great oaf, it's where couples go when they want to be alone... away from the prying eyes of Hogwarts," you said with a wiggle of your eyebrows. George's eyebrows shot up high on his head at the information, clearly not knowing it was Hogwarts' number one make out spot.

"Go Cho," George says, his shoulders shaking with laughter, to which you snorted in reply.

"Do you think Madam Puddifoot knows that she's running a teen brothel? Or maybe a live sex show at least." George barks out a laugh that is much too loud for the current time and situation and you both fight to hold back your laughter.

"Probably, she is a Madame after all," George laughs with a shake of his head.

"Maybe she puts something in the tea," you joked, "you and Fred should get on that. Aphrodisiac all sorts," you said cheekily, alluding to the popular liquorice muggle sweets that Arthur was so fond of. He laughed again, finally putting down the invention and assortment of tools.

"Shall we go?" He asks.

You look at him completely dumbfounded at his question, shocked that he'd even ask. Reading your reaction, his eyes immediately shoot open and words fall from his mouth to recover, "I didn't mean like that! We should go tomorrow and scout the place out." You can almost make out a small blush settling on his cheeks and you laugh whilst nodding your head.

"It's a date, Weasley. Dress nice!" You smiled and walked over to him to hug him goodnight, something you had both done for years, before you climbed up the stairs toward your dormitory.

The next morning you dress nicely, choosing a cute skirt and sweater to wear as you prepare to meet George ready for tea. When you walk down the stairs from your dorm you see him sat there with a single flower in his hand. He looked so handsome in his blue floral shirt and nice chinos, apparently having listened to your warning of dressing nice.

He rises as soon as he sees you, smiling as you walk down the stairs and you have to remind yourself briefly that it's a fake date.

"You look really pretty," he says as he hands you the flower, causing you to blush as you smile shyly up at him.

"It's not going to squirt water is it?" You laugh, gesturing to the flower. He looks at you with a puzzled expression, clearly not getting the joke.

"It's a muggle thing, like a magic trick? They have flowers that squirt water, mostly clowns," you explain as his eyes widen.

"Muggles have magic tricks?" He asks in complete astonishment. You laugh, nodding as he continues to look amazed.

"You and Fred should sell some, when you open your shop," you chuckle as he leads you out of the common room and down the staircases.

"One eyed witch or regular walking?" You asked George, preparing how you were going to get to Hogsmeade.

He shoots you a little look before replying with a smirk, "regular, I'm not taking you down one eyed witch in your little skirt."

"God it's like Umbridge threw up in here," you commented as you sat at the intimately small table at Madam Puddifoot's tea shop, waiting fir tour tea to arrive, the hideous decor already making you feel claustrophobic.

"Yeah except there's less cats," George mutters, scrunching his face up as he looks around with a loom of utter repulsion.

The exterior of the tea shop should have been enough evidence that the inside was going to be as frilly and pretentious as it was with the powder pink windows and door frames but nothing could have prepared you for this.

There wasn't a single surface inside that wasn't covered in either powderpuff pink, florals or lace. Harry really was telling the truth. There were armoires filled with delicate China teacups and boxed teas that fit the aesthetic of the shop, China plates lined up on the walls alongside some truly hideous artwork of loved up couples and badly painted floral bouquets.

How this place had become a den of inequity you had no idea but there were subtle references to love all around; erotically named teas and treats, picture on the wall that seemed to blend into female silhouettes the longer you looked at it, even some of the cakes on display looked phallic.

You looked around at the couples that were clearly there on dates and had to stifle a laugh at the awkwardness of it all. Some couples looked like it was their first date and were sat awkwardly amongst the sea of people clearly much more comfortable and familiar with each other. Some of the boys looked painfully uncomfortable amongst the ostentatious decor, clearly having not chosen the venue of their date. Most couples however were more than comfortable, most of them glued to each other in one way or another.

Your tea was brought over and you thanked the waitress as you poured the tea for you and George. He hadn't said much since you walked in, more silently observing with an outright puzzled and disgusted expression that you couldn't help but chuckle at.

A few couples, particularly near the back were snogging, no doubt regulars on account of their knowledge to sit at the back and wrapped around the little cozy corners.

"Godric, he'll get lost if he gets any further down her throat," you whispered, laughing at a couple far off in the corner, nodding your head subtly towards them so that George could see. He immediately snorted after catching a glimpse of them, looking around to mock more of the patrons.

"How is this place getting couples riled up? It's like my great aunt Muriel's front lounge," George laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well it seems to be working regardless," you chuckle, taking a sip of your tea which was actually quite delicious.

"She's definitely getting fingered under the table," you whisper suddenly, nodding towards a couple in the back you and George had been mocking.

George immediately spits out his tea, eyes bulging at your blunt words making you laugh. He wipes down the front of his shirt as his eyes flick over to the couple in question and he quickly looks away from them realising you're probably right. His reaction was so cute that you couldn't help but laugh, seeing George Weasley shy was an incredibly rare occurrence and you were loving it.

"Cushion in the lap," you nod towards a guy on your left sat with a frilly, heart shaped velvet cushion placed in his lap, "might as well have a sign over his head saying 'I've got an erection," you laugh.

"Girls know this stuff?" George whisper-yells, eyes bugged wide, horrified that you'd apparently cracked guy code.

"Only the bad girls," you wink at him before taking another sip of your tea. You couldn't help but notice George begin to vividly blush, all the way up from his collar to the top of his hairline and you smiled sweetly up at him, finding his reaction entirely too endearing.

You both carried on making fun of the couples around you, happily sipping your tea as you enjoyed spending time with George. He'd become a little less bashful over the course of your visit and had began actively mocking the couples, pointing out particularly aggressive ones and making little quips.

When you walked up to the little counter, the waitress passed over your bill and you began reaching into your bag to pull out your little coin purse. At the same time, George reached into his pocket to pull out his own money but you quickly placed down your money and dragged him out of the tea shop before he could fight you on it.

"Why did you pay?" He asks, frowning as he looks over at you. You smiled sweetly if not a little sarcastically at him as you replied.

"My treat, for you being gentlemanly enough not to feel me up under the table," you joked.

"Not like I wasn't thinking about it," he mumbles, making you pause. His eyes widen at he realises he just said that out loud as you both stand frozen, looking at each other with shocked and surprised eyes. Usually you would have thought nothing of a comment like that coming from George, thinking he was simply teasing you but his reaction told you otherwise.

"What?"

"You wanted, with me?" You said in utter shock, wanting him to clarify what he meant. He was blushing again, not as heavily as before but you could definitely detect a pinkness to his cheeks underneath his freckles.

"Yes," he says, looking up at you nervously.

You didn't think twice and immediately stepped forward, shyly pressing your lips to his. He began kissing you back a few seconds later, assuming the shock had settled and he reached delicately for your hip, holding you to him as he kissed you back.

When you pulled apart, you both smiled nervously at each other, letting out a little awkward chuckle at the sudden twist.

"I told you, she puts something in that tea!"

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #george weasley x you #george weasley #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley fluff #George Weasley imagines

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xi-xi-chen · 2 months ago

Note

something about your recent lightcannon art where lux meets arcane s2 jinx,,,, just something about it that tickles my brain in a fascinating way,,

because usually the interpretations i've seen of their canon adjacent fics is lux meeting a heartbroken jinx and providing her the unconditional love that jinx never felt meanwhile jinx becomes attached to lux and protects her ferally & violently.. but this time it's post-silco death jinx meeting post-exile lux and freeing lux from her shackles (literally and figurately) and showing her unconditional love even amidst her half apathetic state of thinking she's doomed to kill anyone that gets close to her, and lux being the one to start caring about this oddly depressed girl with a penchant for violence who has saved her in ways that no one else has and absolutely losing her shit if she see's someone trying to hurt jinx (say, witnessing jinx get her finger mutilated - a body part that is essential to who jinx is, someone who tinkers and builds and invents which, one could say that jinx losing her finger is not that different from a mage repressing/snuffing out their own magic - while fighting against her sister... probably hitting a nerve for lux 🫠)

Hola, I just think that Jinx wouldn't really care what happened next anymore. What she finds and chooses to tinker with in her spare time, if it fails and explodes, who knows anymore.

And as we saw, I want to say that's correct, at least in Act 1 and in agreement to your words of the apathetic state.

And then, it's all in the given circumstances that define how quickly someone would extend trust, ya'know?

That being said, it's all that we know that's made and developed the current events for Jinx, yes. As for Lux, yes, exile, but it's quite deeper than just "exile," it's losing place in society, losing home and purpose, it's wandering aimlessly and living false reality, sleeping in different environments and having to face natural challenges on mind and body.

A little bit of TMI, but for the military, they literally throw you into the woods and more or less, wish you luck that you survive for the next month with rations and a gun at your side every day and night, with people searching for you to...k¡¡ll you...

So, there's a certain terror in that aspect. And I've basically thrown that into Lux's circumstances. So imagine the big relief, to talk to someone again, even if there's a sort of mental deranged bit happening, they saved her life, it has mean something, right?

But I'll be honest, I don't really know what I'm doing with this apparent AU. Whenever something pops up in my brain, I'll draw it and just share it, and boom, done~, but thank you anyways, your interpretation regardless is kinda on the similar lines of my own. I like that comparison of loss to relate to repression, too. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me! <3

#xi-chat #xi-arc lightcannon

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tsams-and-co-memes · 10 months ago

Text

POV you found a notepad and wanted to get the autographs of your favorite characters

Font names and other stuff under the cut

Sun: Font name is “Luna.” You likely got his autograph by approaching him in the daycare. He's skittish and awkward sometimes with fans, so you had to be very chill and calm with your approach. As long as you maintain a normal speaking volume, give him personal space, and talk to him like a normal person, he's cool with giving autographs

Moon: Font name is “Quikhand.” Like Sun, you probably also had to go to the daycare to get his autograph. He can be a bit awkward and distant, but as long as you treat him like a normal person and aren't clingy and don't hover or insist on physical contact, he's cool with giving autographs

Frank: Font name is “CakorAyam.” No one ever knows where to find Frank, or where he is at any given point in time, so let's be real; you didn't find Frank, Frank found you. He's a guy of few words and mostly breathes at you during the whole interaction, but as long as you're kind to him, he'll be kind to you, and he'll even happily give you an autograph

Solar: Font name is “TINET.” You more than likely went to the Superstar Theater and approached him while he was working at the counter. If you treat him like a normal person, he'll give you an autograph, and he might even be content to crack some jokes or make light conversation. If you go at him like a crazy fan though, he'll send you away empty handed and tell you that you're being weird

KC: Font name is “Bree Font.” He worked at a soup kitchen, so you probably went there to see him. If you're weird in your approach, he'll tell you and ask you to stop, but if you're chill and polite, he'll give you his autograph and speak with you during his break. If he's in an especially good mood, he may even send you off with a cinnamon roll or cookie, too

Eclipse: Font name is “PP Handwriting Normal.” No one knows where Eclipse is, most of the time. Only god knows where you manage to stumble across him, but when you show up, he's probably in the middle of plotting and scheming something. He's not happy you're there, but he tries dismissing you. If you're calm and patient, and have the willpower to stand there and take the attitude he'll more than likely give you, he might give you his autograph purely to make you go away faster. If you're rude back to him, he might find some amusement in it and give you an autograph too, but that's a 50/50 shot whether he'll laugh or get annoyed

Solar Flare: Font name is “TrashHand.” You spotted him when he was on his way to the daycare to deliver satellite blueprints to Moon, so you stopped him for a moment. He was in a hurry, as blunt as ever about how important he is that he completes his task before Eclipse realizes what's up, and he finds the concept of autographs a bit strange, but he goes along with it. He doesn't really care how you behave, since he's indifferent to most things

Ruin: Font name is “We Mano Negra bta.” You found the British boy hanging out in the fazcade, tinkering with an arcade machine. As long as you're not a crazy fan about how you approach him, he's quite the social butterfly and would happily give you an autograph, but if you're weird about it, he'd either get visibly uncomfortable and leave as soon as possible, or he'd drop the sweetheart act and tell you, in a very blank, very flat tone of voice, to knock it off

Creator: Font name is “Taken by Vultures demo.” I'll be honest, I have no idea how you'd get his autograph. Firstly, you'd have to break into his lab, and doing so would probably result in death because now you've seen too much. Secondly, he has no hands or opposable thumbs as a giant brain. He'd need to be in the body of one of his little droids to even think about holding a pen and writing anything. On the off chance that you break into his lab and stroke his ego enough, he might consider letting you go, but if you say or do something he doesn't like, he'll put you 6 feet under

Bloodmoon: Font name is “5 years old.” I'm not sure about this one, either. You'd need whoever Bloodmoon was following/taking orders from present, to keep Bloodmoon from launching himself at you with murderous intent. That's assuming the person in question is nice enough to allow that, but... with the track record that Bloodmoon has of people he's decided to follow, the chance of his new master being kind is slim to none. If you don't end up in multiple pieces or smeared on the ground, you'd be very badly hurt. It's in everyone's best interest that you avoid this one at all costs

Monty: Font name is “Mind Antiks.” You likely found Monty in Gator Golf and decided to approach them there. They might be a bit skeptical of your intentions at first and assume you’re there on behalf of The Government, but with patience and gentle perseverance, you could convince them that you’re there of your own will and that you don’t intend to do anything weird or bad with their signature. As usual, treat them like a normal person, and don’t be weird or act like a crazy fan, that’d make them super uncomfortable (gonna stop repeating the “treat them like a normal person and don’t be a crazy fan” rule, because I feel like that should just be a given that no one likes it when you’re weird towards them)

Foxy: Font name is “Note this.” You likely saw him at the store when he was picking up something for FC, or while he was heading to Gator Golf. He’d be caught off guard and a little awkward at first, but probably very flattered that anyone would like him enough/think he was cool enough to want his autograph. Just,, whatever you do, be patient with the man; we all know he struggles with moving his arms

Puppet: Font name is “Domestic Manners.” You stopped by the Faz-Pad for a drink and saw Puppet there, crashing in that little corner that has the pool table. They were in the middle of watching some anime that you’d never even heard of, and although they’re slightly miffed about their show being interrupted, it’s quickly forgiven when you explain why you’ve approached them. Puppet likely didn’t think they had enough of a presence in the shows or that they couldn’t possibly be anyone’s favorite character, so they’re very flattered and more than willing to give you an autograph. If you started asking them questions about anime (whether it’s the one they’re currently watching, a different show, or anime in general), you’d probably be there all day while they happily ramble at you

FC: Font name is “Kindergarden.” FC was under Sun’s care when you found him, likely in the daycare. While it’s a little odd to go up to a kid and ask for an autograph, FC would be very excited, and he’d get the biggest ego boost from it, because this was all the proof he needed to see that he’s cool

Vegeta: Font name is “Elliot six.” Much like Frank, you do not find Vegeta, Vegeta finds you. He might be a little weird about the situation and a bit skeptical at first, but he could be convinced to give you an autograph. You might be suckered into getting him ice cream, helping him find his dog, watching some of his weird, out of pocket dance moves, or something else entirely, and he might find you again in the future, but hey. He’d be happy, and you would have unintentionally made a friend

Stitchwraith/Andrew: Font name is “Bear Butter.” You’d probably die the instant you wandered into his base, uninvited and unannounced. To be honest, I highly doubt anything you could say or do would be enough to get any form of mercy from him, let alone getting a simple autograph. He doesn’t take kindly to people poking their noses into his business, so… yeah. Hope you have a will drafted and a coffin picked out before you even try to approach him

Stitchwraith/Jake: Font name is “Endless Bummer” (in all caps). Everything I typed out for Andrew also applies here, so I don’t really need to add anything else

Lunar: Font name is “Dadhand.” Like with Sun and Moon, you probably found Lunar in the daycare and approached him there. He’s chill with fans coming in to say hi, and he’s happy to give you his autograph, provided you’re not a creepy weirdo

Earth: Font name is “Shadows into Light.” She was also in the daycare (wowie wow wow, look at all the people in the daycare, such a shocker /silly/sar) when you decided to approach her. She likes interacting with fans and it makes her very happy. She’s more than willing to give you an autograph, but you need to be especially mindful of how you act. If she’s even the tiniest bit uncomfortable around you, you’ll be booted out the door by one of her brothers

Jack: Font name is “Coffee House.” Lord knows where you stumble upon Jack, honestly. He’s probably confused about why you want him to write his name on a piece of paper, but he does it anyway, because why not. The only downside is that he might steal or break your pen

Castor: Font name is “Oil bats basic.” Astral bodies don’t typically get asked for autographs, so he’s thrown for a loop when you waltz up to him and ask him about it. While Castor grasps the concept of it, it’s just ACTUALLY doing it that confuses him, since… that’s his name. Why do you need/want it so bad? He is literally just There, he doesn’t see why you’re so invested in getting him to write his name. He’ll do it, but not before expressing how bizarre this is to him

Pollux: Font name is “A hundred miles.” Pollux doesn’t quite understand why you’d want her autograph either. Her thought process is very similar to Castor’s, but she’ll still do it. If you tell her that you want her autograph because you think she’s super cool, you might even manage to score some brownie points

Gemini: Font name is “Hathem Bosteem Free.” They’ll do it. They’re just Castor and Pollux merged together as one person, so just imagine everything I typed out for both of them, inserted here

Nebula: Font name is “Antro Vectra.” Again, this is another one where only god knows where you’d find her. Nebula doesn’t quite fully understand the concept of autographs, but I get the feeling she’d be flattered if you explained it to her and said that you wanted hers because you thought she was cool. She’d be flattered and still slightly confused, but either way, she could be convinced to do it

Taurus: Font name is “Across the road.” You…. Are not finding him on your own. Plain and simple. You’d have to get his autograph through Nebula, assuming he was feeling gracious enough to give you his autograph at all

#tsams #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tmgafs #mgafs #the monty and foxy show #monty and foxy show #monty gator and foxy show #the monty gator and foxy show #laes #tlaes #lunar and earth show #the lunar and earth show #handwriting headcanon

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staryolight · 4 months ago

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"We can't do that here!" Endhawks

Hawks dismissed his fans and the press with a smile and a waving hand as they saw him flying towards Endeavor's agency building . He landed and perched on the window of the highest floor of the building.

By seeing the scene from afar, the public probably thought the number two hero had to discuss important business with the number one, or maybe that they were teaming up on an important case. None of that was true: Hawks just missed his boyfriend.

"What's up, big guy?"

Endeavor raised his gaze from his computer, then sighed: "How many times do I have to tell you not to enter from the window?"

"It probably went over my head" Hawks said, getting off the windowsill and walking towards Endeavor's desk. Enji was wearing a suit and he had his reading glasses on. It was paperwork day for him. It wasn't often that he saw him in formal attire, only at press conferences and when he was attending his office duties. Sometimes at galas, even if Enji hated them.

"I could have been in a meeting right now"

"I know how much you hate doing paperwork. I just came to say hello" Keigo hopped on the desk and sat on a small corner that wasn't filled by papers and documents. Or so he thought.

"Are you done? It's already 6 pm" the blond asked.

"Where's the report? Hawks, you sat on it"

"Oops, sorry number one" he chuckled, getting up and spying on Endeavor's computer with curious eyes. All he saw on it were a few opened windows. Enji sighed, then rested his back on his leather office chair. He grabbed the report and started reading it.

"What are you doing?"

"This thing isn't working, otherwise I would already been done with work" he said, pointing at the computer.

"What's wrong with it? Let me see" Hawks said, bending to look closer at the screen, "you need to click here" he said, before the computer showed an error page.

"See? It won't let me do it"

Endeavor's frustration with technology was almost cute, he thought.

"I'll fix it" Keigo said like he always did. It wasn't the first time he helped him with his hardest battles against technology: it was his job as his supporter.

Hawks, who was hunched over uncomfortably to face the computer screen, had the bright idea to sit on one of Endeavor's tights.

"Keigo! What are you doing?" Enji asked in a panicking voice.

Keigo looked back at him, smiling: "I'm helping you"

"You know someone could walk in, right?"

"I'm the only one who enters your office without knocking. And I'm pretty sure that half your agency already suspects about us, seeing me walk in and out as I wish" Keigo said unbothered, tinkering with the keyboard.

Endeavor huffed: he knew how hard it was to say no to his stubborn boyfriend.

"It's been a while since we've actually spent time together outside of work" Hawks rambled, with his eyes still on the computer.

"I know and I'm sorry"

"It's not your fault, heroes should have more free time"

"You always say that"

"Cause it's true! We would have more time to kiss, go on dates and do all the stuff that boyfriends do! Instead we're always helping others like we don't have a private life to live"

Hawks stated, turning around to face his boyfriend.

"Did you fix it?"

"No. Actually, I don't know what I'm doing. I just wanted to sit in your lap" he replied, as a dumb smile formed on his face

"Keigo, you're a menace"

[To be continued...]

#endhawks #endhawksfanfiction

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cairavende · 1 year ago

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Worm Arc 14 thoughts from 14.8 through the end:

Gonna get a little bit gay up in here pretty soon. But first, some other stuff.

Pretty much jump right into "Oh shit everything is fucked" with the bio-weapon just spreading everywhere right away.

Skitter's focus on Tattletale specifically when trying to get them to higher ground was top level Chatterbug/Smugbug content. Like sure Sundancer and Trickster too, she wanted to save them. But when Bentley wasn't climbing fast enough what she said to herself in worry was "Tattletale."

Fucking god. Tattletale telling Skitter to fly to the higher building and use bugs so Trickster could teleport them and they'd follow? But fully knowing it wouldn't work and just trying to get Skitter to safety?

"It doesn’t look like her plan will work out. Tell her I’m sorry." - I WAS FUCKING BAWLING

I had figured that Bonesaw's contingency wasn't just a "everyone dies right now" virus or whatever. It would need to be artistic. And it would need to be a punishment to the local capes, both hero and villain. And the way to punish them would be to "take the city from them". "Make them watch it destroy itself." "Make them help".

I feel like what she did covered that general outline with a heavier focus on taking everything away from the capes. But still, god damn Bonesaw. Absolutely fucking terrifying. Super powered face blindness. At the base at least. Don't know who anyone is. Damn.

SKITTER IT'S NOT GAY YET THAT ISN'T TATTLETALE IT'S BONESAW! GAY WILL COME LATER!

If Jack put's his slimy fucking hands on my daughter again I will personally remove them.

The "Don't swear!" from Bonesaw while pretending to be Tattletale was fun. I managed to hit on it before that, but it was a good confirmation.

Fucking Jack and his "You’re versatile" after seeing Skitter make decoys while prepping to tie someone up with spiders. FUCK OFF WITH YOUR DREAMS YOU DICK. YOU CAN'T HAVE HER.

Instantly confirmed when Skitter flat refused to shoot someone despite Jack and Bonesaw telling her to. My daughter might not be perfect but she's not going to be one of you!

Coil fucked up a bit on the phone. He wasn't dealing with the pathogen so he should have done better. Even just asking everyone there to say something so he could listen to the voices. He would have known right away it wasn't Tattletale and Grue. Patching them through to Cherish that easily was a mistake. He really doesn't do as much as he could be. Like ya he's evil but that doesn't mean I'm not disappointed when he isn't using his full potential.

Cherish very fucked up when she thought letting Jack and Bonesaw know where she was would be good for her. Hope she likes her eternal torment at the bottom of the ocean. (Ok there's a chance she'll get pulled out in the future I guess.)

I'll admit, when Amy left with Victoria earlier I wasn't expecting to see them again so soon.

"Panacea is the healer, top floor, Jack is the slasher, the blond girl is the chemist-tinker." I don't know why, since it doesn't rhyme or anything, but I got very "The pellet with the poison's in the flagon with the dragon; the vessel with the pestle has the brew that is true" vibes from this.

Jack trying to convince Amy by talking about how many of her ancestors were successful by being cruel and Taylor just internally going "How many were successful because they cooperated?" Love my daughter.

Victoria is still very much . . . not dead.

HOLY SHIT AMY YOU PUT YOUR SISTER IN A PERSONALIZED FLESH COFFIN MADE FROM CATS AND DOGS?

Seriously. Personalized. It has her face on the outside made out of bone. What the actual fuck Amy?

Proud of my daughter for shooting Jack, even if it didn't work.

It's probably fine that Skitter got Amy to break her brain rule again. I mean like it's good. It was the only way to fix the pathogen. It saved herself and the city. That is all good. Just . . . there might also be some long term negative outcomes. Probably fine though.

Getting gets cured and goes off to cure the city be gay.

"I leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her lips." - EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!

WOLFSPIDER WOLFSPIDER WOLFSPIDER!

SO FUCKING GAY I LOST MY FUCKING MIND WHEN IT HAPPENED

"'You couldn’t have waited until after you’d cured me before you put the bugs on your face?' Tattletale asked. She was smiling as she asked it." - ALSO EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

SO GAY. DOUBLE GAY. EXTRA GAY. ALL THE GAY!

CHATTERBUGCHATTERBUGCHATTERBUG (SMUGBUG IS FINE TOO)!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also the level of effort the girls went through after that trying to figure out how to cure Grue and Regent without kissing? Fucking amazing. Kissing was only ok for these three. Obviously.

GAAAAAAY

Gay (bug)horse girl gay (bug)horse girl gay (bug)horse girl

And the remainder of the Nine got away. Which is pretty fucking bad I guess. What with the whole "end of the world" and all that. I get that story point is the *actual* big end of the arc. But it's been overshadowed. By the gays.

Did I mention things being gay? I just want to make sure. Cause they were. Gay that is.

Interlude 1 - Sierra is amazing. She is exactly who Skitter needs to be running things while she's away. Charlotte is also amazing and I think worships the ground Skitter walks on. My daughter is, as always, absolutely terrifying when described from anyone else's PoV. She only gets more so every time. She just uses bug speak without even realizing now. Amazing. I love her. Atlas is helping and I'm so proud of him. He even got to take the gun. I hope he gets to keep it.

Interlude 2 (thought about making this it's own post but I'll just keep it really simple) - God dammit all three of the big 3 are Cauldron created? Ugh. Legend you appear to be trying to do the right thing but you sure as shit aren't paying much attention are you? Holy shit like, you believed so much of what the Doctor has been saying for years? God damn bud. How could you look at Cauldron and assume they *aren't* doing human experimentation? Especially since you know they have done it in the past! Like god damn man! At least you do kind of acknowledge that maybe you were purposefully ignoring the signs cause you wanted to be ignorant. Maybe there is a little bit of hope for you. Hell of a lore dump interlude though. Gives me lots to think about. Also I'd absolutely listen to The Number Man talk about spreadsheets all day long.

GAY

#Worm #Worm Web Serial #Parahumans #Cairavende reads Worm #The Slaughterhouse Nine #Taylor Hebert #Lisa Wilbourn #Rachel Lindt #Wolfspider #Chatterbug #Smugbug #GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY #SO FUCKING GAY I'M DYING #I'm sure once Vicky wakes up and is released from her FLESH COFFIN that she will be just fine #Maybe a tiny itty bitty bit of therapy will be needed #For real though the first time The Number Man started talking I instantly wanted to be alone in a room with him.#It didn't matter that he was running over the possible outcomes of a end of the world situation and talking about the deaths of billions.#Fucking hell just spreadsheets to me man! PLEASE!#You can give me estimates all day long.#ALSO FOR REAL THOUGH IT WAS SO GAY #WOLFSPIDER WOLFSPIDER WOLFSPIDER WOLFSPIDER #CHATTERBUG CHATTERBUG CHATTERBUG CHATTERBUG

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supersoakerfullofblood · 9 months ago

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Beta Reading, Workshopping, and Peer Editing for Indie Writers: a Guide

Beta reading is a term you might hear tossed out as a vague buzzword, kind of like how people talk about "character development" and "worldbuilding"; I've made a bunch of posts to demystify words in that latter category, but beta reading is a different type of term. Where those latter words and their ilk are terms of craft, things we can discuss in theory ("this is how I think characters are developed best"), beta reading is about a novel after its first draft and first wave-ish of edits. Pretty much everything before and after the production of a novel or story is purely up to what works best for the writer, so this post will introduce beta reading if it's new to you, and I'll give you my process if you want to tinker with it!

Beta reading is when interested readers work through your polished manuscript and make workshop comments so you can make an extra wave of edits. Publishing houses usually have two waves of this type of reading--alpha reading (AR) and beta reading (BR). If you can find enough people to alpha read for you (and you want alpha readers), go for it! But if you're confident in your grammar, your ability to craft a scene and characters, and the other formalities of creative writing, alpha reading isn't a requirement (as an indie. If you ever query your work to a house, it'll probably go through alpha reading).

Alpha reading is to catch grammar and syntax slips, mischaracterizations, character development that doesn't add up, excesses of adverbs and adjectives, and other craft faux-pas that the average reader wouldn't catch. Your alpha readers should pretty exclusively be other writers.

Beta reading is to gauge what your audience is thinking or feeling while they read your work. If your beta readers want to make alpha reading comments ("I don't feel like [character] would do that here"), that's A-okay, especially if you didn't have alpha readers, but that shouldn't be your chief concern with your betas. These are your audience surrogates! The job of beta readers is to tell you what they think or feel: "I like this," "I don't like this"; "This paragraph hit me hard"; "This word is confusing"; etc. If they add more words to their comments, that's A-okay ("I like this because these words go well together" or "This word is confusing--does it mean X or Y?") but not necessary! If your beta readers are your audience and not people who really get how writing works, then you should be taking any reasonings in their comments as loose, loose suggestions. Maybe those words that go well together to one reader feel, as you look at them a second time, cliche. Or perhaps the confusing nature of a word or phrase was by design. In any case, try to see your beta readers as a "live audience reaction" and not a "live reactionary critique."

One aside about alpha/beta reading: "this is bad" and "this is good" comments are toxic and should be avoided at all costs. Tell your readers to avoid these before they start writing. No good can come from these. Even "I don't like this" and "I like this" are worlds better, though still not great. But absolutely warn your readers against using objective blanket statements like "good/bad" as they read.

Now that we've laid the foundations, I'll go into my own process so hopefully everything above makes more sense.

Before I give my manuscript to beta readers, I go through 2-3 waves of revision on my own. After I finish my first draft, I wait about a month to let the dust settle, to gain at least a little emotional distance from the project so I can look at it a little more objectively. Then, I read it through, revising for content: cut this scene, add a scene here, chop paragraphs and sentences, add paragraphs and sentences, move this chapter here, make sure this character actually functions as he should in the narrative, etc. These are my macro edits.

Then I let it sit a week or two and go into line editing: punctuation and syntax, word choice, tweaking figurative language, etc. Close pruning of your work. Filing your nails after you've clipped them.

The third read-through is at a normal reading pace, as if you were a reader, to catch anything that may have slipped past during your close edits and revisions. This third read-through is likely the first time you've read your manuscript as it should be read--a book! This step, then, is a victory lap, but it's also one last troubleshoot. You might not find the errors in a computer program until you run the program. So too it is with writing.

This is a lot of work! You might want to relegate these tasks to your readers, but DO NOT!!! If you're still heavily revising and editing your work, don't let your readers to the table. This is your work and your story, and outside influence will stray it from what you want. Own this. Buckle down. Read.

Once you've got your polished draft, it's time to contact your readers! I would recommend 4-6 readers total unless you think you can handle more cooks in your kitchen at a time (I cannot). I typically just ask some of my friends to beta for me. Here's an example text:

"Hey all! I finished that book about church camp a while ago and was wondering if you'd beta read for me! Basically, I'd just need you to read through the book and make comments in the sidebar whenever you like something, don't understand something, are excited or intrigued by something, or other general impressions. You can comment however often or little you feel comfortable with--some people make one comment a chapter, others make multiple comments a page--anything works great. Really all you shouldn't comment are blanket statements of "this is bad" or "this is good," but feel free even to say stuff like "I like this" or "I don't like this." Just avoid objective language when possible.

I don't have any money for this, so sorry in advance, and if possible, I'd love for all of my beta reading to be done by the end of summer.

Let me know if you're down or not! :)"

I really have had readers comment that much and that little on my manuscripts. This is normal. If your readers are supposed to comment whenever something in their attention triggers, different readers' attentions will trigger differently.

It's also a wise idea to form your beta reading group (again, especially if you aren't doing a wave of alpha reading) as a mix of people from different backgrounds and writing experience. My church camp novel group is below:

Person A who went to church camp with me, is into poetry

Person B is into fanfiction, little church experience, mindful of social issues

Person C has little church or writing experience, mindful of social issues

Person D is very into writing, pretty into church

Person E is very into social issues and church, not a writer

I would advise to find a similar balance of people who are into your subject matter and those who aren't.

It's also helpful to give them a timeframe to read by, and make this longer than they need. I gave people ~two months for my ~60k-word novel.

Also, as a little incentive for your readers, plan something for when everyone's done! A post-beta party! Something like this will also encourage you through the process :)

Once you have your betas' comments, it's time for one last wave of revisions. Compile these comments however you like, and start tweaking. I like to have each beta's document open so I can cross-reference while I work through my own doc. And remember: these are audience comments, not writer comments (unless you explicitly brought writers on). If someone says something confuses them, that might just be their cross to bear. If none of your other betas were confused by it, or if one of your betas compliments the same section, it may be worth ignoring that first comment. Try to rule with the majority when you can, and take everything with a grain of salt. "I don't like this" doesn't mean it needs to be changed. It means you should figure out why that reader doesn't like it.

If you have any questions, my asks are open! Again, this is a pretty open concept where anything works as long as it works for you, so don't feel pressured to "get it right." But if you have any questions or suggestions, I'm all ears :)

Hope this helps!

#writeblr #writing #writing advice #fanfic #writers on tumblr #creative writing #bookblr #writing questions #booklr #writerscommunity #reading

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ewingstan · 1 year ago

Note

We sort of touched on it in a prior post, but you’ve gotten a fair few details on how Mark and Carol raised Victoria by this point.

From what details you recall, how does her handling/raising of Kenzie fall into compare and contrast with those details?

Wooh. Hm. Well, I think she has Kenzie's ultimate wellbeing in mind more than Carol probably did while raising her and Amy. At the same time, when Victoria's first reaction to Kenzie getting publicly pilloried was "lets get you in front of cameras to argue your case, and also while we're at it lets keep our cape-network plan from falling through by jumping on the public-Scion-reveal grenade" I thought well. Yeah that's something Carol's daughter would think to do huh.

Its a dangerous relationship they're in. Victoria legitimately wants to keep Kenzie safe and stop her from overworking herself. She also really wants this cape group thing to work. She'd probably not consciously let the latter get in the way of the former, but she will let Kenzie fight as a hero if it seems like that's what Kenzie wants. The problem, of course, is that Kenzie wants what Victoria wants. Kenzie will act in whatever way will make the people around her happy, and so if she thinks Victoria wants her to be a hero (which you don't exactly need to be an observation tinker to notice), she's gonna make being a hero her whole thing. Not to mention that Kenzie also knows Ashley wants her to be an active cape, Sveta enjoys being on a hero team, etc....

I'll also say that the way Victoria's treating Chris.... kind of reminds me of how Carol treated Amy growing up? Victoria sees him as her responsibility: he's a member of the group Dr. Yamada asked her to shepherd, and he's a kid, and now that Dr. Yamada's gone that responsibility is even greater. Victoria is burdened with Chris in the same way Marquis burdens Carol with Amy; sure, Victoria does it a lot more voluntarily.... but she's also doing it more because she agreed to care for "the group," not for Chris. Chris is a responsibility that came packaged with what she wanted to do. And while the care she has for Kenzie seems to come from a place of genuine concern and affection, her keeping tabs on Chris feels strictly procedural. She's responsible for him, she'll keep tabs on him, nothing more to it. There's a lot of resentment and some frustration that boils into how Victoria treats Chris as a result. Insert your arrested development "I don't care for Chris" image here.

Hell, despite otherwise having pretty wildly different viewpoints when interacting with people, Victoria ends up resembling Taylor a lot in how she thinks about Chris, because it matches up so well with how Taylor thought about Regent. Its another case of "That guy I'm not as close to as the others, the dangerous one, the one whose probably a sociopath waiting to be let loose." I remember thinking that Chris seemed like "the Regent of the group" in my early reading, but they're really not so alike personality-wise, or even in terms of their place in the team dynamic; they're just positioned the same way in the mind of each text's narrator.

I read Taylor's reaction to Alec as one part fear-response to people who seem to delight in other's pain for no obvious reason, and one part a reaction to all the stuff she doesn't like about herself projected onto some twink in leggings. Her fixation on the idea that Regent must just like hurting people, that its just the kind of person he is, comes from the same scared confusion about why her best friend and the whole of the school started torturing her for no apparent reason. Its a reaction from a person who still categorizes everyone as bullies or victims, and is distressed about whether there's more to that and where she is on the spectrum. In her mind, he's a kinda evil dude that likes to hurt people because hes a bully and that's what bullies are, but actually maybe he's fine to hang around with? Which is getting churned in her head alongside her pledging to protect people by becoming a horrifying warlord and making long arguments to Pariah and Flechette about how villains can be helpful and heroes can be bullies. Taylor's relationship to Alec and her distance from him is symptomatic of her evolving views about who people can be, what power can be used for, and why people act the way they do.

Of course, Taylor conversely forms one of her strongest emotional bonds with someone who reminds her of her bullies even more than Alec does. But I think this makes sense for the same reason Chris and Kenzie could both remind Victoria of Amy but inspire such differing treatment. Bitch's first encounter with Taylor was a seemingly random attack that Taylor directly compares to the trio's assaults: she instinctively looks for a reason to hold back like she did for them, and then finds freedom in not having one. But while Rachel at first seems to directly fit the "bullies because she's a bully" model, Taylor learns pretty early on that Rachel has perfectly understandable reasons for her behavior, and that she can be predicted and made into a close ally if she just pays attention and puts in the work. Taylor's relationship with Alec is her sticking to the idea that the world is bullies and victims, and you have to find your place in it without understanding it because there's nothing more to understand. Taylor's relationship with Rachel, meanwhile, is her finding out the world isn't just bullies doing bad things because they're bad people. Rachel is the possibility of understanding the world, bringing it to heel, learning to love it and make it love you.

Similarly, Victoria's relationship with Chris is a reflection of everything she internalized from the Wretchening, while her relationship with Kenzie is her reacting against those internalized lessons towards something more hopeful. Chris is a medical freak who becomes a horrible misshapen monster on a regular basis and who suffers horribly for it, yet keeps choosing to do so. He's wretchening himself at the slightest provocation—he's impatient to wretchen himself! Add to that how his emotions rule him to the degree that they physically transform him, and that he shows absolutely no desire to reign them in, and its pretty clear why Victoria is often so negative to him. He's a powderkeg waiting to go off in a horrible way like his sister was, filled with strange and offputting desires turned into strange and offputting flesh, and unlike Amy he doesn't even have the decency to shamefully repress it. Chris is Amy as the deviant who qua deviancy will inevitably be a danger to everyone around him. Kenzie, meanwhile, is Amy as the sister who gave too much of herself. Victoria's shown at times that she hasn't forgotten how she loved Amy as a sister, how she wasn't inherently evil. She spoke with regret about not listening to Amy when she begged Victoria not to hug her. And she's pretty much said in-text "I don't want Kenzie, who I love as I once loved my sister, to exhaust herself to the point that she becomes lost in the way my sister did." Victoria looks at Chris and is reminded of all her fears of what strange and dangerous people will do, of her belief that bad people do bad things because their bad people. Victoria looks at Kenzie and remembers that's not true, and that she can do something about it.

#parahumans #chris elman #alec vasil #kenzie martin #rachel lindt #taylor hebert #victoria dallon #wildbow #leo reads ward #leo says #victoriadallonfan #man this got way longer than I expected and I didn't even really talk about the carol relationship that much #it just became yet another leo-goes-on-about-chris #plus another 'this too is wolfspider'

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clowning-raven-fanfics · 9 days ago

Text

Emerald Promise: Chapter 2

Sonic's POV

"Tailsss," I spin around in the chair next to him, kicking my feet up on the counter. "Hey, buddyy."

"Yes, Sonic?" He doesn't even glance up, totally focused on whatever gizmo he's working on. Classic Tails. Always tinkering, always light-years ahead of the rest of us. Honestly, sometimes I wish I had even half his focus.

Last time we were out collecting rings, I got distracted by some fancy-looking laser lights and smashed face-first into a pillar.

Good times.

"What're you working on?"

He snorts softly, like he's amused I even asked. "You really wanna know? Sure it won't fry your brain?"

"Wow, rude," I elbow him lightly. "EXCuSE me for not having an IQ of a million."

"Sonic, it's not-"

"Yeah, yeah, just spill already. C'mon, I've been sittin' here for hours."

"It's been... twenty minutes," he says with a small sigh, finally pointing to some shiny circular component in front of him. "See this? It's going to be an advanced battery-super efficient, super lightweight. Once I work out the last bug, it'll power just about anything."

"A battery, huh? Riveting stuff, bud. Here I thought you were building a teleportation chair or, like, a chili-dog racer or something actually cool."

Tails smirks. "Battery not good enough for Sonic the Hedgehog? Shocking."

I laugh softly, shaking my head. I'm kidding, of course. I'm proud of Tails and everything he builds, even if I don't always get it. I know this battery is probably going to change lives-or at least power some epicc machine.

I try to sit still and keep him company. He deserves the quiet to focus, and I want to be here for him. But sitting still? Definitely not my thing. After a while, I can't take it anymore. I spin in my chair a few times before hopping up to wander around the workshop.

Tails doesn't stop me, but I can feel his eyes flick toward me every so often, like he's half-expecting me to do something dumb.

Pff like I need babysitti-

"Shoot!" I accidentally knock over a stack of parts, sending them clattering to the floor.

"Sonic!" Tails yelps, whipping around to see the mess. "Those were organized for a reason!"

"Ah, sorry, sorry!" I crouch down to help, but he waves me off with a sigh.

"It's fine, I've got it. Just-be careful, okay?" His voice is sharper than usual, but it softens quickly. "You don't have to go or anything. Just... maybe sit still for once?"

For once.

I rub the back of my head, forcing a small laugh. "Yeah, well, you know me. Sitting still isn't really my thing." I give him a big, cheerful grin as I head for the door. "I'll get outta your fur. See ya later, buddy!"

By the time I'm a mile away, the grin's long gone.

It's better this way. Better if I'm not there to mess something else up.

"Ugh..." I sigh, letting my face relax into something more honest.

There's this tightness in my chest, like a weight pressing down. I don't know what to call it, but I know how to make it stop.

Running.

When I'm running, everything blurs. It's like I've got my own little world, one where nothing can catch me. Nothing can hurt me. No one can keep up.

So I take off.

Maybe if I keep running, I'll leave the feeling behind too. Maybe this time, I'll outrun it for good.

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

Shadow's POV

He really let me out of the room.

At first, I didn't believe it, waiting for the mockery to hit. I thought the second I caught a glimpse of the outside, I'd be shoved back. But it didn't happen. The door stayed open, and I stepped through, as the commander stayed silent.

I imagine he was not overjoyed by the fact I was about to walk around his grounds. GUN grounds. People who I resent ever since that day, ever since they came and ruined Maria's home. My home. The place where I was needed. Maria needed me, and I didn't mind all the tests, even when they hurt.

I knew it was all to find a cure. That was what I was created for, after all. Maybe if GUN didn't attack, that purpose would have been fulfilled. Maria could finally see the Earth, like she always wanted, without her sickness holding her back.

My teeth ground together, and I forced the thoughts down. Showing weakness could jeopardize everything. I couldn't afford that. Maria is still out there, and I will find her. I will save her.

"Don't mistake this for friendliness. You will be kept an eye on," the commander's voice cut through the fog overtaking my mind.

"Hmph." I stepped forward, ignoring him completely. I needed to look around, see the layout, see the threats. And about that mission... when would they deign to share the details with me?

The commander left, no doubt heading to his office. I stayed on my path, walking down the corridor.

The halls were pretty lifeless, sterile. As they were on ARK. Well, unless Maria had something to do with it. Her room was decorated with all sorts of things. I shouldn't think about this-just focus.

The other agents gave me a wide berth as I walked. I could feel their stares. Some looked at me with fear, like I might lunge at them at any moment. Others with disgust, muttering under their breath or sneering as if I couldn't hear them.

"Robotnik's hybrid freak."

Their looks reminded me of the researchers who assisted Professor. They too would give me such eyes, and I wouldn't understand why at first. But after some time... I came to know why. I am just a monster.

I sighed and decided to ignore everyone as I walked through the facility. Judging by the way some of them stiffened when I passed, I'd bet the commander gave them strict orders not to engage me directly. A few of them looked like they'd shoot me on sight.

You love doing that, don't you, GUN?

I clenched my jaw and kept walking, but my mind wouldn't let it go. The memories clawed at the edges of my thoughts, threatening to drag me down. I needed to focus, to push it aside, but the harder I tried, the more it crept in.

Stop thinking about it.

I gritted my teeth.

Stop. Just...

My breathing hitched, unsteady. My fists tightened at my sides as I came to a stop, willing the rising heat in my chest to go away.

Am I seriously about to cry?

I froze, the thought jolting me. I haven't cried since they pulled me out of cryo. Not once. I can't afford to. Not until she's safe.

Feelings won't help her. Emotions won't save her.

I exhaled slowly, steadying myself.

I can't let them get in the way. Maria's depending on me.

She's all I have.

#shadow the hedgehog #sonadow #sonicxshadow #sonicxshadowfanfiction #sonicfanfics #shadowfanfiction #shadowsega #sonicsega #sega #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #shadonic #tails the fox #miles tails prower

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tezzbot · 11 months ago

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congrats on finishing your essay! :))

Love your Sonic Underground au, btw! I need some lore drops on my boy, Manic, tho. It doesn't even have to be a long explanation. Something goofy like, how many times has he been arrested?

Also! Do the triplets eventually form a band? [side-eye]

Oh my goodness, hello!! I love your art so much it's all so cool!!!! Thank you lol!

Some stuff about Manic in the au lets see...

He was kidnapped as a baby after the triplets had been sent halfway across the continent for their own safety, whoops lol, he's quite charismatic, must always have been since he managed to endear himself to Ferral pretty much immediately lol, he grew up pretty much similarly to the canon of underground, getting by stealing where he has to bartering and stuff, he's part of his own found family within the city and they're all very close, a tight-knit little community of thiefs sfgdhj, though every so often one or two of them decide to spread out (though they stay in touch), which is actually the reason for Manic's being on the train alongside the others, he has family he misses! And he has some things to get to them! (little does he know he'll be meeting more family than he anticipated lol) Though he's never actually been out of the city he grew up in himself (despite what he may claim lol), uhh he is very technically minded he loves to tinker and making little thingamajigs and doohickeys that look like they wouldn't have any practical use but he usually finds a way lol, nothing, like, robotic like Tails does, he's more a manual guy fdsgfgdf, aaand just a random headcanon he's fairly dyslexic n has some trouble reading, he usually has someone help him. There's also gender happening to him :thumbsup:

As for how many times he's been arrested lol uhhhh I think that early on he was pulled up a few times, probably spent some time in juvie, but he hasn't actually been caught in quite a while, I don't imagine Manic gets caught all that often lol you know those videos of kids running from cops and the police just making absolute clowns of themselves trying to catch them? That's Manic JHGJFG

So wrt the band, I'm sort of playing around with ideas right now? The main idea that I'm running with is that, the medallions only react to them when the triplets are getting along, when there is harmony between them (eehh? geddit? lol) that's the only time that they are able to be activated. Which, given the rocky start that they all have with one another obviously takes time, with Sonic being reluctant to share pretty important info with them and generally keeping his distance from them, Sonia's frustration with him and her being Very mad at Manic for scamming her, not much harmony going on for a fair bit of the journey. Eventually the three of them do get along and discover the powers of the medallions and they do perform a few times throughout. Eventually Sonic does spill that they're family and after the reactions they come up with the idea to use their music to get their mothers attention, Sonic is hesitant etcetc. I DUNNO! I'm still futzing with it lol I'll decide on stuff eventually fdghfg

Oh and I do want Sonia and Manic to have their own powers like a lesser version of Sonic's speed but, again, still deciding LOL

Anyway! Sorry this got so long lol, I've thought a lot about this AU! Thank you for the qs!!

OH ALSO Manic uses "bro" and "brother" on Sonic just as a casual thing but the first few times Sonic is like .Does He Know... GJFHG OKAY I'M DONE

#sonic underground au #I love it when and artist I really like and respect very suddenly pops up in my notifs this is crazy<3 #thank you for taking an interest in my silly little au lol

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advanced-imbecile-art · 2 months ago

Text

Alone. Again. (A Fallout OC Fic)

After a series of misadventures between the Commonwealth and Capital Wastes, an old Mojave courier finds himself alone at a bar. He had expected not to be but the man he hoped to make his companion had long departed Diamond City without so much as a goodbye. So now he sits at the Dugout Inn intent to try and dull his sorrows with alcohol lest he fall to older and harder habits. If only a distraction could come along to break him from his sorrows...

------------------------------------------------------------------------ Just a short story for my Courier Six OC, Elias Ables.

Featuring mentions of Rose from @meatgrinderminefield and an appearance from @elligatorrex's Daniel Carver.

Nothing explicit in this fic, but there are mentions of injuries and heavy drug use. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

“When I said to drown your sorrows, I did not mean it so literally!”

Elias' lowered his empty glass with a breathless huff. A hand going to stifle a cough as Bobrov's Best burnt through his senses. There was no point trying to explain to Vadim, the burly proprietor of the Dugout Inn, that ever since a gaggle of brains in floating jars had hot-swapped his insides it took a calculated effort to get just a meager buzz. Even if he tried, it would likely just get a laugh and a compliment for coming up with such a tale. He settles for a placating wave of the hand.

“It's fine... I'll be fine.”

“Normally, I not protest! But Yefim had been nagging away about oh Vadim it's so hard to carry drunks to bed. Though I do see his point not letting patrons drink to death. No repeat business from corpses, ha! Even worse! You say you are wallowing over Mel, yes? Tsk! Little robot tinkerer is not worth such emotions. Did not even pay tab before skipping town. Likely to wherever No-Nose went. I- ”

Elias wasn't sure what look crossed his face, but it must've been something severe to bring Vadim's chatter to a sudden halt. Having to bite back harsh thoughts while reminding himself the barkeep knew not what actually happened to Bobbi No-Nose. Shot down in her own safe house for her attempting to breach the Mayor of Goodneighbor's. Wherever Mel had decided to go, Elias wished it was somewhere safe... and that he had waited until they could've talked again. The sting of tears filling his lonely eye turning his vision to a swimming mess. Ah. That was probably what stopped him. A grown man crying was always an awkward sight.

Damn it all, Elias pressed a weathered palm to try to force away tears, maybe skip the alcohol, go straight back to the Med-X.

“This one on the house. For a man who has clearly traveled many hard roads.”

Noting the more solemn tone to Vadim's voice, Elias peered to see a fresh round being poured into his glass. He muttered a thanks to which the barkeep returned a nod before departing to the other end of the bar. His booming personality now turned on regulars who were more in the mood for such frivolity.

Idle fingers traced along the thick wraps he kept over his missing eye. Following the shape of jagged scar tissue that ran underneath it. An attempt to sate the prickling feeling underneath without picking into his skin. His thoughts drifting back to that of Med-X. Not his first time being clean. Probably not his last... Dr. Amari and Rose had insisted and he had been in no condition to refuse with everything that happened after the return from the Capital Wastes. It was doing more harm them helping, they said.

Would they still say that if they knew how much it all hurt? How everything hurt. Everything. From his head to his toes: Pain. The headache pulsing behind the twin ghostly divots in his forehead where Benny tried to blast out his brain. The chafing itch that stung around his empty eye socket that a Nightkin bashed to pieces at Repconn. The arrest in breath where ribs never healed quite right after Legate Lanius cleaved him open from collar to hip over Hoover Dam. The regrets in his heart.... The weight of the choices made in the Mojave. Attempts to save some that always, always, came at the cost of others. Even worse, the choices the Courier had made when anger ran out of check. That haunted him and seemed to keep him from holding still. The final letter from Arcade telling him he couldn't wait anymore and was moving on...

Elias' hand tightened around his glass. Lifting it to take a more measured sip this time to even his breathing. Trying to let the thoughts wash over him just as the booze slipped down his throat. Amari had warned him about this. That his use of Med-X to dull his pains for so long had made his body wholly unfamiliar with feeling any kind of pain. Which meant it was going to hurt all the much more until he readjusted... If he readjusted. She had also spoken of how easily he could relapse because of the pain alone if not properly managed this time. He realized now she must've passed that on to Rose as well. Recalling now the tense look on his friend's face when he said he was going to depart Goodneighbor to resume courier work. It had been a week since he'd seen her last...

Vadim was right. He shouldn't be wallowing at the bar. He needed a distraction. Something productive to do. Someone in the city market was bound to need something delivered. Maybe even to Goodneighbor where he could check in with Rose. Show he he was still alright. He'd just need to give the chem vendor a wide berth.

“Excuse me, I-” A voice akin to a Mr. Handy scattered Elias's thoughts. Pausing when he turned to face it's owner

A pale man in a worn mechanic's jumpsuit who seemed about his own height with brown hair still damp from using the Inn's showers. Large glasses were perched on his striking face. The glare from the bar lights on them partially obscuring green eyes that were narrowed inquisitively at Elias. There was a clear calculating intelligence in the way this stranger looked at him. Maybe it was the sickening mix of Bobrov's in a gut full only of heartbreak and longing, or maybe it was just the fact this man was wearing glasses. It was likely both that caused Elias for a moment to see Arcade in place of the stranger until he spoke again. There was no associating that British accent with his ex-companion.

“I'm terribly sorry, but do I know you?”

“I get around a lot, but... No. Don't believe we've met.”

“Hm...” The stranger gave a thoughtful hum, those sharp eyes looking him over once again. “Would you like to?” Elias blinked. Had that been a proposition? Something that had been a common enough occurrence in the sleazy dens of New Vegas.

No. No, he was overthinking this.

“Uh... take a seat if you want, I-” He had begun to turn back to the bar when the stranger swiftly closed the space between them.

"Listen,” He hissed low enough to only be heard by Elias, “I have had one bloody hell of a week. And you clearly came here for a good time just for some prick to stand you up. So what's say you and I just... help each other out. Sounds good, right love?”

Elias swore his artificial heart skipped a beat when the man flashed a smile at him. Having to try hard not to swallow and look so immediately smitten as a slender hand carefully brushed up the top few buttons of his flannel shirt up onto its collar. His single amber eye locked with the stranger's green pair. Having enough sense to search at least a moment for anything nefarious behind that gaze. If there was anything, he was blind to it. “Yes.”

“Good,” The stranger's smile spread wider, “up you get then. I've already got a room.”

#fallout fanfic #fallout oc elias ables #fallout oc rose #fallout oc danny carver #others ocs #text post

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