#and those choices make such a huge difference those tiny choices
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it must be sad to be someone who can't find and doesn't want to look for the meaning in anything. thinking art is boring, thinking the long, drawn-out semi-abstract explanations musicians and artists give before they show their work is meaningless fake bullshit. it must be such a dull world to live in where one doesn't obsessively examine every word, every note from a work you love to find the beauty and the message and meaning and purpose in every grain of sand that gives it form. how sad.
#bluebird.txt#yes this is a vaguepost no it's not about anyone here at all#but like. curtains are just blue type bitches how does it feel for the world to be so sad and empty?#im out here overanalyzing every word out of a children's movie and finding even the most obvious perhaps of meanings in a certain note#or repeated motif#and it makes everything look wonderful#adds to my appreciation for it for the detail no matter how small or seemingly inconsequential#everything is a choice and some people don't understand that#when art is good it's all about intention#speaking as someone who's working on their art (music) and learning how to make those choices#and even that there are choices i can make bc sometimes im like woah i didn't know i could do that!#and those choices make such a huge difference those tiny choices#anytime you watch something even if the author or composer or whoever didnt think much of a certain choice#they still made it and it still makes it different than it would've been if they'd chosen a different word/chord/color#the world and art can be beautiful. why would you choose to see it so boringly???#truly it boggles the mind#violaposting#this is why i like theory
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Forgiveness is Electric
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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.
I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.
Enjoy!~
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“I do not think she will like those.”
“Who doesn’t love sweets?”
Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.
It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.
Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.
“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”
“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”
Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.
He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.
It had just backfired on him horribly.
Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.
Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.
It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.
This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.
With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.
Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?
Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.
Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.
That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!
“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”
Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.
Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.
Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.
“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”
They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.
“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”
Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.
“Ingo!”
It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.
“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”
Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.
“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”
While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.
“You guys alright?”
Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.
“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”
There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.
They’re just kids.
“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”
Another pause. Another exchange of glances.
“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”
“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”
“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”
The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.
“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”
“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”
Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.
“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.
“Volume control.”
Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.
“You didn’t see them?”
“No…”
The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.
Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.
“Headphones?”
Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.
“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”
It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.
“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”
Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.
“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”
The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.
“I think these ones are quite dashing.”
Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.
“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”
They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.
“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”
Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.
“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”
Plusle and Minun headphones.
#pokemon#submas#fan fiction#fanfic#fanfiction#fan fic#sorry critter#i started writing about Tynamo before i remembered he probably didn't have it by that point#im just gonna say newly acquired and cross my fingers#tynamo is shy#nobody knows about it#🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞
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Okay, but... now I'm wondering >.>
@the-witchhunter We talked about Danny being Morningstar's feral, probably engineering oils and ectoplasmic goo covered, mad scientist/himbo hybrid (attack) purse dog. His special lil guy.
But!
I seek your Knowledge(TM).
From second hand accounts? He seems to HATE the hypocrisy. The blaming HIM for humanity's own choices. The rat race and endless song n dance of "Righteous Good VS. Cartoonish Evil". Because it let's humanity paint themselves the helpless victims. Because it's all surface level. Because it is not so easy to escape the ugliness of your Sins, yet they keep trying to scapegoat him.
Fuck um.
He was tired of it.
But? He still has CONSIDERABLE POWER. It's probably written down. And the Ring Of Rage? Is proooobably not the loveliest of artifacts? I imagine, like the Crown, it's NOT leaving Danny alone. One of those "we don't CARE if there is no throne left to sit upon, you WILL wear us, as King" sort of systems.
It genuinely would not and DOES NOT matter, if not a single soul in all the Zone bows to him. Did he defeat the previous holder of their Right To Rulership? Yes or No.
If No, fuck off.
If Yes, new monarch.
Is it hurting him? Not the rings problem. Nor the Crown's. Heavy is the weight, etc etc. But! DANNY would certainly care. He is... is ANGRY all the time now. Has no idea who would even MAKE this bullshit ring. Why JUST Rage? Yeah, it makes ghosts stronger, but at what COST?
He can't even get rid of it!
......by himself.
Luckily, he's still clear headed enough to know that he's NOT in this by himself. And it's amazing what "mom, dad, this ring is trying to drive me insane. Help me" in a terrified and tearful voice, can brush over. No one threatens their baby and all that.
It would honestly be hilarious, seeing the extended Fenton clan decend like LOCUSTS on Pariahs Keep, searching for clues, terrifying the local ghosts, if... if he wasn't so tired.
God he's so tired.
It's Aunt Alecia who... "politely encourages" a passing scholar to lend them the book they need. Took the poor sucker right out of the sky. Guy never stood a chance. RIP.
He learns he has to head..... over? Like... 27 that-ish way, then up. Huh. 27 WHAT?
Realities, apparently. He's in the wrong bundle. Branch? Neighborhood? Eh. Clan Fenton rolls back out, he packs his bags, and hilariously enough? Goes off to the devils night club. Hopes he likes rings. Or hates them.
Thankfully, being "king" means the Zone? Kinda... humors him? Like... it still has RULES(tm). He can... can FEEL that now. But it's willing to bend some for him, if he asks. And anything NOT against the rules? If it's in the right mood? He need only ask. It's weird. Being suddenly so powerful, yet NOT, at the same time.
Cause none of it's his.
All he has is the Zone's attention. The ability to ask pretty please. If you don't mind. And then? The highways between... ALL will just? Shift and change for him. He can see how it went to Pariah's head. The Zone is pretty agreeable. Is by nature Amoral, cause it's not a Being, it's... well, it's the Zone.
And everyone wants him to ask things. Do things. Demand this or that. Use this power.
Maybe he doesn't WANT too! Maybe he didn't WANT to be king! Doesn't he have the right to say NO? To refuse? Why do they think he OWES them service? An eternity of politics and people trying to kill him, for something he never wanted in the FIRST PLACE.
He's so tired.
The nightclub's pretty cool.
So he comes to ask, politely of course, cause the guy's probably busy, if Morningstar could... dunno, fix or destroy it? Want a ring, maybe? Also he heard you MADE the stars. Huge fan of all of that. Can I ask about the process? Or are you in the middle of something?
And? Lucifer? Turns around, from where he's Leaning Seductive Yet Elegantly(tm) to see... scrawny. Tiny corpse child. No... half? Corpse? Alive. Dying. Alive yet dying. Huh. Well, that is different. And here he didn't think he'd get see anything NEW. You, child, are NOT a zombie. What are you?
Halfa.
I have no idea what that is. What do you want?
He gets shown the ugliest, crudest, peice of shit ring imaginable. A genuine foul little curse. Really stinks up the place. He destroys it, obviously. This club has STANDARDS. Hope that wasn't important?
Kid just smiles the biggest fangy lil grin. No. No it was not.
Obvious, lie, but cute lil teeth. He'll allow it.
He gets dragged into talking about the stars. And talking. And talking. Mostly bragging and explaining. Kid hangs off his every word. Follows him around as he makes his rounds. Asks good questions. Completely focused, dispite the booze and barely dressed dancing all around him.
Lucifer can't help notice the crown.
Lovely little thing. Space ice and star dust, glittering like jewels and light catching the mist. If he remembers right... that one iiiiiis..... not Limbo, it's.... Zone! That crown is the Zone, it changes to suit the wearer. He recognizes the vibe. Awfully young, aren't you?
And.... it all burst forth. He didn't even need to press. Use persuasive words and honeyed tones. Like an inflamed, festering wound. The merest brush is enough to spill everything.
Negligence, greed, blood lust. Bigotry and xenophobia. A tyrants endless quest for power. Ah, humans. They truly don't change do they? Realities away, dead or alive. Now they're harrasing a child. He honestly looks miserable. Whereas just a moment before, listening to Lucifer talk about his work on the stars, his soul practically GLOWED with light. A tiny little star unto himself.
.......maybe it's the big ol "I'm you BIGGEST FAN" eyes. The sad wet cat aura. Perhaps the scrawny "could snap you like a twig" teenager, all elbows and knees. The fact he is, in fact, NOT human; for all that he once was. But?? The kid? Is... not terrible company.
He'd even go so far as to say? It's like having a pet intern.
He can sleep on the couch.
Tell you what, you stay here? I'll keep taking about stars and YOU can do the chores I don't feel like doing. I'll take care of you and all that.
And Danny? Honestly was sold at the word "stars" but? This sounds like a phenomenally terrible idea... and he has yet to meet one of THOSE he hasn't made out sloppy still with, so deal! But as a minor, that DOES make you his new gaurdian for the next four-ish years. He's legally obligated to finish schooling.
Ah.
.....well shit.
(Just? Local stressed 14-15 year old Ghost King does RESPONSIBILE thing and finds Adultier Adult. With more qualified Adult powers. Unfortunately for everyone, the adult is Lucifer Morningstar, night club owner. Even MORE Unfortunately, said ghost kind has pack bonded with the Nice Star Man, who saved him from the Bad Ring, and effectively offered to let him crash on his swanky couchs.
Now Morningstar has to? Somewhat VAGUELY pretend he gives a shit local schooling system, as he puts his charge INTO it. Actively giving waking terrors to the magical community. What evil plot is afoot? Where did he get this tiny minor death god? What is his end goal FOR said child?
No one knooooows~
But Lucifer is just doing this cause he's a Being of his word. He hates the tedious minor chores he'll be foisting off onto Danny. And? Most importantly? Look at that face. *shoujo sparkly eyes of Star Sempai Noticed Me!* it's like having a golden retriever puppy. Ffs he has STANDARDS.)
(It'd be hilarious to watch the hostile 5th dimensional chess DC characters have going on in the background, all while? Danny is like? Man! Isn't this universe GREAT? Everyone here is so CHILL! And nice to me! I'm so relaxed now! Finally, I can finish my education in peace.)
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#tw wounds#but only as euphemism for emotional state
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Helloooo, I would firstly like to say that I absolutely adore your writing 🥰🥰 and secondly, I have a request. Could you do a one shot (smut) with Ao’nung x human reader. The human reader came with the Sully’s and, of course, Ao’nung doesn’t like her. One day he finds the reader trying on different Metkayina clothing that his sister made for her and he’s interested in her human anatomy. I think he would be gentle with her as he’s much bigger and doesn’t want to hurt her. The rest is up to you. 💘
Oh my lorddd thank youuu!!! You shall receive it little one
Oneshot: You're so beautiful I hate you
Ao'nung x fem!human!reader
Words count: 3.8k
Warnings: nsfw, size kink, p in v, bulge kink, aged up characters 18+, gentle sex, Dom/Sub dynamic, penetration, horny stuff, cursing, enemies to lovers, sexual attraction, sexual tension
Aged up to 22 [after the summary]
Na'vi vocabulary: Skxawng: moron, Mawey: calm down, Tawtute: sky person, tsahey: oh crap/oh hell, Awa'atlu: name of the Metkayina village, Pongu Pongu: Na'vi drink (with and without alcohol), Tsaheylu: the act of connecting na'vi's braids
Synopsis: You're Norm Spellman's daughter and after spider has been captured you had to go with the Sully's leaving your still in progress Avatar body there in your father's lab. [Neteyam won't be dead here]
A/N: i had so much fun writing this i swearrr. I was blushing and kicking my legs.
Follow the don't like don't read rule please - minors DNI
Summary: "Are we there yet?" Tuk whined hugging Neytiri's arm. "No not yet Tuk" her mother said brushing her hair with her hand, "we'll be there soon sweetie now rest". Neytiri planted a kiss onto her daughter's head. You were flying on the Ikrans from the past morning. It was exausting. Since you didn't have a Ikran you had to fly with Lo'ak. Of course you two kept teasing each other and you risked falling at least two times. "Lo'ak would you stop? C'mon bro I don't wanns fall." you hissed him as he tickeld you for the fourth time "You're a skxawng Lo'ak" you heard Neteyam yell from above you. "Ok ok fine" he said taking his hands off your waist. You sighed in relief thanking Neteyam from afar. "Boys stay concentrated." you heard Jake yell from the front "we're almost there" he muttered as you passed by three huge rocks. After that you were too stunned to say anything. Enchanted by the beauty of the teal ocean beneath you. As long as you landed you were surronded by others na'vi, oh how you wished you had your avatar body right now. You felt so tiny, a lot of them hissed and growled at you making you regret for a moment the choice to follow the Sullys. Neteyam, Kiri and Lo'ak kept you between them, avoiding any consequences. "Are those supposed to be tails?" you heard some boys joking about the Sullys looks. "How are they supposed to swim?" one chuckled frendly elbowing his taller friend. A girl Who apparently popped out of nowhere slapped his arm. "Do not. Rotxo, Ao'nung" she stopped the two boys. You smiled at her kindness but those two still laughed at something pointing at Kiri, you couldn't help but say something "In fact we do not swim skxawng" you hissed at them. For a moment it looked like they were surprised to see a sky person talking na'vi, but that soon faded. "And what's a tawtute doing here?" The taller on teased, an evil smirk spreading on his face. You were about to say something when everyone went quiet, a man came riding a really strange mount. As soon as he landed you all greeted him following Jake's move. "We seek Uturu. A sanctuary for our family" you heard Jake conversing with the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk of the Metkayina. You noticed the Tsahìk walking towards you, Lo'ak and Kiri. You tried to ignore the pressure and hide from her gaze while she exposed them just for having an extra finger. You obviusly failed when you felt a big ass hand dragging you at the center of attention and almost lifting you from the floor. "You even brought a demon in here!" she exclaimed assuring that everyone could see your little figure. That caused Kiri and Lo'ak to hiss at her, Kiri grabbed your other arm, careful not to hurt you, trying to pull you away from her grasp. Jake stepped in as you struggled to get your poor arm out of the steel grip that woman had on you. "Mawey, Mawey! Ronal, I assure you she's not a treat. Her father helped me fighting the sky people when I was Toruk Makto" That word had a great effect on every one for the second time. She finally released you and walked back to stand behind her mate. He was a lot more serene than her, his voice calm as he spoke "You are forest people your skills will mean nothing here." "We'll learn your ways, we will make ourselves useful. right?" Jake said looking at us we nodded in agreement still not very convinced. After exchanging a few glances the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk agreed to let us join their clan. "From now on Jake Sully and his family will be our brothers and sisters. Treat them like ones, teach them our ways so they won't suffer the guilt of being useless." He announced "My son Ao'nung and my daughter Tsireya will educate your children". Oh. oh. That was the chief's son you hissed back to... Tsahey. "Father why-" Ao'nung started to complain "It is decided." his father interrupted him. "Come! I will show you the village." Tsireya looked a lot happier than his brother, at the idea of tutoring us.
Time skip - your lab arrives
The helicopter had landed carrying the lab your father sent you. Max came out of it greeting you. “Hi Y/n I brought you the lab!" He yelled trying to drown out the noise of the helicopter blades.
"Thank you Max!" You yelled back hugging him. He was like a uncle to you. As soon as the helicopter was turned off he rummaged in his briefcase. You were going to sleep there while you waited for your avatar body.
"I brought even a new prototype of the oxygen mask, you can drink and eat even outside the lab." Your jaw dropped "Really??" You jumped happily. It was the first time a prototype could afford such a thing.
"let's go inside I'll show you how to use it" You went inside the box to try the new mask.
"We'll be good here" Jake said looking around the marui. "I think it's pretty" you sang happily entering the marui.
-ˋˏ♡┈┈┈┈
A lot of time has passed from the day you arrived at Awa'atlu. You had fitted quite well in the village. Sure, not everyone liked you but many had started to treat you like their sister. Especially Tsireya, she loved you. She often asked about human life, how your body worked and a lot of science things about you and your avatar body. Yes you told her about the body you'll be having anytime soon. You wished.
Ao'nung liked teasing you a lot and it's not like you could do something about it. Jake wanted no trouble. That was your mantra. "If you think you're one of us you're wrong little one" he would say occasionally "just go back to your planet" this was less usual but still used.
You tried to act like you didn't care, but it was so hard to ignore it. You decided to avoid him and that worked cause you managed to keep him away for two straight weeks, you were really close to organize a party about it.
Today you were invited to Tsireya's marui. It was you, her and Kiri. Just three besties having fun for one entire night. It sounded really great so you agreed very happily.
When you arrived to her marui Kiri was already there "Y/n! You're late!" they both exclaimed as they saw your tiny figure entering the hut. "Yeeah sorry about that, had to finish some things" you said rolling your eyes.
"But no more work now, let's have funn" Kiri chuckled at your feisty attitude "the boys should be at their secret spot so we have my brothers marui all for us!" Tsireya screamed in excitiment. Yes she always talked to you about how big and beautiful Ao'nungs marui was since he moved in it. You weren't completly sure it was safe but still you wanted your revenge so why not.
"And he has Pongu pongu! With alcohol!" Kiri turned to you after announcing it. "And you are gonna try it for sure!" they said in unison before grabbing your arm and dragging you with them.
You looked around carefully all the way up to the famous hut. "C'mon!" Tsireya opened the flap signaling to come in. You and Kiri ran to her and went inside. Tsireya locked the flap to the wooden frame. "Is this really a good-" you muttered looking around "-idea..." turns out Re'ya was right. Ao'nungs marui was breath taking.
"Wow" Kiri whispered looking around. Re'ya just stood there, hands on her hips looking satisfied by yours and Kiris reaction. "Told ya." She said heading were she knew her brother kept the Pongu pongu.
Who would have thought that Ao'nung was so tidy? The decor was so aesthetic, with woven shells hanging from the fabric ceiling, rattling whenever the wind had the chance to enter.
"Found it! C'mon let's drink." You heard Tsireya calling as she found a big jar between all the spears. Kiri pulled out three shallow cups that she had taken from her father and gave one to each of us. "All right, cheersss!!" and with that the drinking night begun.
"Oh Y/n I- *hiccups* I have something for you!" Tsireya staggered forward towards you, she got up and went near the entrance. "Here it is!" *hiccups* she exclaimed raising her arm in the air showing the little clothing she was holding in her hand. "I've made a woven loincloth and a macramè top for you!" She happily jumped handing you the clothing.
"You- *hiccups* shouldn't have Re'ya!" You chuckled admiring her work. "C'mon try it on!" Tsireya cheered "oh yeah go Y/n! Put it on!!" Kiri shouted. "I-I don't know... Should I?" You asked looking at the pretty iridescent shells all over it.
"Fuck yeah you should!" They both exclaimed. You gave in and took off your previous clothing putting on the ones Tsireya gave you. As soon as you finished you did a pirouette, giggling at the light clink of shells.
"Oh Eywa. You look stunning Y/n!" Kiri said as Re'ya agreed nodding her head. "You think?" you asked slightly embarassed. "Of course! I bet you could even fascinate some of the boys" It was Kiris turn to agree in silence as Tsireya elbowed you lightly making you chuckle.
"C'mon Y/n dance!" Tsireya started to tap a rhythm with her hands and tail, "yeah dance!" Kiri chuckled doing the same rhythm. You daced and risked to fall four times as the alcohol had already kicked into your blood making your heart pump faster, adrenaline raising.
All seemed fine until you all heard a confused exclamation coming from the entrance.
"What the fuck!?" Ao'nung's voice roared in the whole hut causing averything to go silent. You, on the other side, had stopped, trying to balance on one leg but falling down miserably.
His eyes wandered around his house and especially on your body, your little body barely covered and showing almost everything, then his eyes darted to his sister and Kiri. He stormed to them lifting them up by their arms "I remember I told you NOT to enter my marui.!" he yelled dragging them outside.
You had to admit you've never saw him so serious, neither so angry. You didn't know if you were scared or attracted to him. "I know, I'm sorry brother" Tsireya said chuckling while he dragged her and Kiri out.
She climbed on him screaming and laughing and as he tried to get her off she removed the string that was holding up his hair letting them fall all over his back. "Tsireya! You drinked Pongu pongu! Oh Eywa you can't drink it yet, it's alcohol!" he said exasperated "Dad is gonna kill us." he face palmed himseflf before turning to you.
"And you-" he walked up to you, his long black curls swinging left and right; lifted you by your waist and hold you up to his face. Yeah, you just discovered, that his hand was big enough to hold your whole waist. He stopped for a moment eying you up and down, then he spoke "Cover yourself. I can see everything" he said walking out and placing you down.
He the entered his marui and closed the flap. You were left spechless. Still processing his HAIR, still processing his HAND and still processing he just admitted he saw your whole body.
As for him, he thought about your body all night long and didn't get some sleep. He really didn't expected to found you out of his door right the next morning.
Time skip - that morning
Your ears rung, you heard a lot noise and youl felt a pair of hands shaking you trying to wake you up. Your head was spinning, you slowly opened your eyes and rubbed them.
"Thanks to Eywa! Tought you were dead." The blurred figure spoke standing and towering over your curled up body. You hummed supporting your head with your hand. "Oww, did a Tsurak ran over me?" you muttered sitting up and blinking till the blurr faded.
"No it's the Pongu pongu you drank yesterday" Your eyes shot open as you finally reconized the voice. You looked at him still having the worst headache ever. He must've noticed cause he grinned at you "I don't think a human can handle na'vi alcohol as good as us." he spat mockingly.
You rolled your eyes "Listen Ao'nung, I'm sorry for what happened in your hut yesterday, we..." you stopped remembering what you actually did "uhm..." you looked to your clothes and discovering you had the macrame and woven clothing Tsireya weaved for you.
"You ate your tongue?" he tilted his head at your silence. You remembered what he said about your clothing and jumped covering your upper parts with your arms.
"Well i can't leave you here" he mumbled "Not like that" he lifted you with his arm and took you inside his marui. You were embarrassed to be wearing that.
You liked it of course, it was gorgeous, but you felt so naked right now, in front of the Olo'eyktan son. He sat you on the woven mat. He never treated you like that. It was the first time he was with you and still didn't throw any insult to you.
"I know it's sudden but I want to ask you a few things." He spat feisty. You blinked looking at him "W-what" you asked waiting for him to just spit it out, while admiring his face.
Yeah that alcohol must've been really strong because you were starting to find him attractive. His lips while he spoke, his adam apple bobbing every time he swallowed, his aquamarine eyes locking to yours.
"Are you even listening?" He asked awaking you from your trance, you looked at him biting your lower lip and raising your eyebrows questioning him.
He smirked slyly getting closer to your face and gently tapping on your mask "you can't breath without this right?" He asked tilting his head, still with that damn smile adorning his face.
"That'sー correct." You quickly answered trying to increase the distance between you two. "Then why aren't you breathing?" He whispered stopping you from getting away from him and pulling you closer.
You were inches from each other's, you could see your mask fogging up every time he exhaled. "Do you know your stretching limits?" His smile never faltered as he spoke. You blushed furiously at his question as you opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish.
You gulped as you felt his hands sneaking around you waist "how are you so small?" he mumbled looking up and down your body. What's going on? why was he so intrested in your human anatomy. "You're the big one!" you blurted out.
He put pressure on your lower belly causing you to gasp lightly, you were being pushed down until your back was in full contact with the woven mat, he hovered over you making you look even smaller.
"Your reproductive system works like ours right?" he took a handful of your hair inhaling your scent. "Just without tsaheylu" he finished his sentence before licking your neck, you yelped at the sudden move pushing him from the chest trying to push him away.
"W-what are you doing!? are you crazy?!!" you screamed feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. He smirked again grabbing your wrists with one hand, while the other one clutched around your neck softly "just stop fighting and answer my questions" He pierced holes in your eyes as he stared into them.
You squirmed trying to get free from his grasp, your heart started racing as he leaned toward you. You clasped your hands around the wrist of the hand that was around your neck "Iー do not know my stretching limits." you muttered squinting your eyes whishing that would make him stop.
He did stop for a mere second before whispering into your little ear "Guess we're about to find out." You felt heat pooling in your abdomen causing you to feel wrongly horny.
You could feel your body wanted it, but you knew it was just so wrong. You still squirmed as he took the woven loincloth off of you, his breath fanned on your mask as he freed your neck from his grasp placing his hand onto your thigh.
He lightly squeezed it observing your reaction. Your lips were slightly parted and your hot breath fanned onto the mask. You reflexively tried to close your legs just to be stopped by him.
His hand went lower finding your heated core. His touch ghosted onto your clit making you bite your lower lip. "I think it's better if I use my fingers first." he whispered lining his fingers to your leaking entrance.
You jolted as he started to push two digits inside of you, a filthy moan left your lips as he plunged his fingers deep inside you. You felt them brushing on your cervix. "So warmー" he started to breathe heavily, you felt his dick slowly getting hard against your thigh.
He began to pump his fingers inside you causing a pleasure you never felt, you closed your eyes abandoning yourself to his touch, you felt a knot forming in your core. His fingers sped up scissoring you, causing a loud moan to leave your throat.
You arched your back as you felt him add another finger, fucking his three digits into your pussy, you squirmed as the stretch felt painful. His thumb glued to your clit as he noticed.
The pain slowly changed to pleasure again, you called out his name as you felt his fingers deliciously hitting your sweet spot "I-I'mー" you whimpered, your walls clenched around his digits as the knot started tightening.
He pulled his fingers out right when you were at the edge of your orgasm, you cried in frustration as your walls clenched around nothing. "Don't worry little one." he muttered removing his loincloth, letting his rock hard cock slapping against his stomach "I'm right here" he scanned your face as his smirk widened.
He spread your legs and pulled them, lowering your knees till they touched your sides. Your breath hitched when he adjusted himself between your legs.
He lined his tip to your hole causing you to tremble softly. "No worries baby, I'll make it work" he tried to assure you as he rubbed your thighs with his thumb.
You were scared. Your father actually told you not to have a sexual act with a Na'vi unless you had your avatar body. It could've been dangerous, not fatal of course but still not a good idea.
"Wanna establish a safe word?" You looked at him with your already watering eyes. He released your wrists letting your little hand grip his shoulders. You nodded slowly and whispered it to him. "Alright, scream it if it's too much okay?" You nodded again.
He started pushing his hips forward watching as your cunt slowly swallowed his tip, you groaned at the stretch. "It hurtsー" you yelped softly, feeling your cunt spreading in attempt to adapt to his size. "It's gonna be fineー" he murmured leaning his forehead onto your shoulder.
He kept pushing until he felt himself bottoming you out. Your cries were melodic to his ears. Little less than half of his shaft could still see the light. "A little more" he growled breathless as he rolled his hips gently, managing to make your cunt engulf another bit of his dick.
He moved his hand onto the big bulge that formed on your lower belly gently pressing on it. You moaned loudly, holding yourself to his shoulders as you felt him shift deep inside you.
He started moving slowly, waiting for your pussy to get used to him inside you. His hands reached your breasts and started to knead them causing you to whimper. He felt your walls slowly relaxing around his girth "alrightー here we go."
He slowly pulled out, till only his tip was left inside, then thrusted back in hitting your sweet-spot making your legs tremble in his grip. He threw his head back, feeling you clench around his hardness like your life depended on it.
His thrusts increased in speed as he fucked himself inside you, making you scream his name in pleasure. Tears soaked your whole face, you couldn't stop the moans coming out of your throat. He pulled you to meet his pelvis, gripping your tiny waist.
His thrusts were steady and strong, his hips rolled deliciously into yours, rhythmically hitting your cervix and g-spot, making you wince every time your cunt swallowed him.
"who would've guessedー" he grunted "your human body could take me so well" he looked down at the bulge on your belly.
"Ao'nung I'm closeー" you cried as he increased his pace even more holding your waist, fucking the most beautiful sounds out of you. He admired the bulge his dick formed on your abdomen everytime he buried inside your cunt.
"Let go little oneー don't hold back" he said twisting and teasing your clit with his fingers. Your legs shook at the intense pleasure, "let me feel your juices." He groaned pulling your legs up on his shoulders hitting a deeper with the new angle.
Your jaw fell open as his cock threatened to pierce your cervix. Your body arched against his as you came undone, squirting all over his pelvis as his hips kept snapping against yours with hunger.
"Holdー on a little longer." He grunted throwing his head back and gripping your waist tightly as he felt his orgasm approaching "almost there" he growled breathing heavily.
He pushed himself deep inside you for the last time, releasing his load directly into your womb, filling you to the brim "ahh yess-" he growled fucking you both out of your orgasm.
He slowly pulled out of your quivering walls, letting your legs fall down gently. some of his seed leaked down on your thighs. He suddenly took you in his arms and placed you into his hammock as he cleaned up the woven mat.
"We'll certainly have a lot of chances to increase your stretch." He chuckled sitting on the floor, next to you. "That's not funny" you mumbled, your heart still racing.
"I have a great idea. Maybe next time we can your your marui" you imagined he was referring to your lab "so you can take off that mask" he cooed leaning towards your shoulder and kissing it.
You rolled you eyes "now would you mind asking me real questions about human anatomy?" He chuckled lightly "maybe i will."
A/N: this might become a series?? (anon if you see this plsss claim an emoji this idea was soooo good)
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Name Your Price — Amren x Reader (Starfall Week)
Hiiii! Here’s my little piece for @starfallweek 2024. I hope you all like it 💕my beautiful soulmate @greeneyedivy helped me name it 💅🏻
I used the prompt “character A finally makes a move on character B”. I’ve never written for Amren before so this was quite fun!
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 3.9k
“You’re sure you don’t want me to fly you back up?”
Cassian cocks an eyebrow at you, the steadiness of his hold dissipating as he tugs his arms from around you. Though your feet are on solid ground, it takes a moment for your equilibrium to right itself. Being in the skies is something you haven’t yet become accustomed to, despite three of your closest friends sporting wings. And being flown on Starfall is an experience entirely of its own.
“You’ll miss the best part,” Cass complains, peering up at the dark canopy above you. The sky is beginning to stir as the stars ready themselves for their journeys. It won’t be long before they’re soaring and crossing.
And tempting as it is to stay and watch the sight that never lessens in its magnificence, you feel…different this year. Like there’s somewhere else you ought to be. Someone else you ought to be with.
“I’m sure,” you dip your chin. “You go, Cass. Enjoy it.”
But he doesn’t move. He studies you head to toe, studies every shred of effort you put into your appearance — hair and makeup perfected, a stunning outfit hugging your body. You feel beautiful, no doubt — and yet you’re leaving after a mere hour of drinking on the balcony with your friends.
“You know she’s just going to be holed up in her apartment with the curtains drawn,” Cass says. “She hates Starfall.”
You cock an eyebrow. “Who?”
“You know who.”
Amren.
Is it little bit humiliating that you’re so damn transparent? Perhaps. But Cass is one of your closest companions — you can hardly expect him to believe that you’re simply leaving to return to your own home and switch your stunning dress for your pyjamas.
You shrug a shoulder. “I just want to check on her, is all.”
“Hmm,” your friend’s lips twitch. “I’m sure.”
With a roll of your eyes, you swat his ludicrously huge arm. “Go back to the party,” but you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you — for flying me.”
“Good luck with the tiny little rain cloud. She’ll be even crankier tonight than usual.”
With a lopsided smirk and a fond — and annoying — mussing of your hair, he launches back into the sky and heads back to the House of Wind. You stare after him, wondering if you’re making the right choice.
Because when Amren says she wants to be left alone, she means it. But…you don’t know. Things have been changing. Things have been…different.
This is your third Starfall, since your move to the Night Court after the war. A native of the Day Court, it had surprised you to find yourself so at home in a place of starlight, so opposite to what you’d always known. But as one of Helion Spell-Cleaver’s nearest and dearest, you’d worked closely with Rhysand and his Inner Circle during those fraught times of battle and bloodshed — and bonded with them far more than you’d ever expected yourself to. Become an honorary member of their unit, so to speak.
And when Rhysand had courteously invited you for a visit to Velaris after the war was over, you’d known from the second your feet had touched the cobbled streets — this was where you were supposed to be.
Three years later, with a home here, a job as a Night courtier…it was hard to imagine you’d ever been anywhere else.
And perhaps the most notable and unexpected connection you’d forged was the one you had with the with the tiny creature whose barbed, edged words were — you’d learned — a sign of affection.
You did not understand Amren one bit. She was a mystery you couldn’t puzzle out, a being that was sometimes so harsh, it was hard to believe she had any warmth in her at all. But Rhysand giving the two of you a subject he’d needed you to research together had brought you closer, over the recent months. Had shredded through that trepidation you’d once felt around her and shifted it into something…different. Something exciting.
You find that try as you might, you can’t stay away.
And that’s how you find yourself strolling those cobbled streets of Velaris, dressed up to the nines and stars beginning to burst above you. You could be spectating the brilliant sight with your friends, but something tugs you towards the other side of the city. To the loft apartment with the sloping windows and the strange, intriguing female who dwells within
Indeed, as you approach, you find those windows to be blacked out. Blocking out the sight of what is occurring in the skies. You almost smile, but now you’re nervous and second-guessing yourself a little. You could turn away, go home — in all likelihood, Amren won’t want to see you.
But tonight feels different. Tonight feels like a reckoning.
So you swallow your nerves and decide you’re doing this.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
You knock once, and a voice that is both nightmare and fantasy calls out, “Go away!”
Not unusual for Amren. She tells guests to go away, even when she’s invited them.
So you brace a hand against the door and call back, “It’s me.”
There’s a beat. And then small footsteps are padding closer. There are the sounds of bolts being undone, locks clicking. Whatever it is Amren feels she needs keep out is little more than a distant thought as she yanks the door open just a tad and eyes you suspiciously through the gap. Her steely gaze takes in your dress, hair, makeup. She lifts her chin.
“Why are you here?” she asks.
You shrug. Feel a little pathetic as you answer, “I thought I’d come see what you’re up to.”
“Why.”
“Perhaps I find your company to be just slightly more scintillating than Cassian’s.”
At that, there’s the briefest twitch of her lips. She masks it expertly. “A dead rat has more to offer in the way of company than that boy.”
You snort, rubbing at your arms. Goosebumps are pebbling your skin. The air is too brisk to comfortably be stood in for too long.
Amren studies you again, and too quickly for you to register, she’s widening the gap in the door and yanking you in by the front of your dress. She slams the door shut and gets to work refastening the bolts, sliding across the chains, securing every lock. It’s all you can do to stand and watch.
And then she turns to face you with a neutral expression — one that says that if you find anything peculiar about her behaviour, shut the fuck up. You know she won’t tell you what’s got her so on edge, so you don’t bother asking.
Instead, you turn, still rubbing at your chilled skin, and study the general disarray of her huge, open-plan studio apartment. Her bed is unmade, her trinkets and baubles scattered across various surfaces. And on the numerous overlapping rugs that cover the floor, a gathering of books, some stacked in a pile, others tossed aside, a few open on certain pages. It would seem she is spending the night going over your recent research.
“Perhaps a drink?” you ply, angling away from the mess.
She quirks a dark eyebrow. “Tell me, what is it about you and the others barging into my home and making demands of me?”
“I believe it’s customary to offer your guests refreshments.”
“I believe I didn’t ask for guests in the first place.”
Her words, to anyone outside your circle, would sound so sharp, so harsh. But you know Amren, now. That last sentence vaguely translates another meaning: I wasn’t expecting guests, but thank you for coming. Of course I’ll get you a drink.
Not that she’d ever say that in a million fucking years.
She saunters past you, towards the kitchen area. As she goes, she closes the open books and throws them onto the stacks. Picks up empty glasses.
“Don’t clean up on my account,” you say, knowing full well that she isn’t.
“I’m not,” she confirms. “I don’t want your clumsy feet treading on anything,” she places the empty glasses in the sink and turns to you. “What do you want to drink? There’s wine, wine, or wine.”
“I’ll have the wine, then.”
With the barest incline of her head, she turns her back to you. While she’s occupied, you take a moment to study the covered windows, everything that blocks out what’s occurring outside. Even the skylights are covered, and your lips twitch at the thought of her wrestling her way up there to fasten drapes over them.
It’s all so methodical, so thought out. And though you know she’d probably never tell you, you can’t help wanting to break down that barrier and know the more vulnerable side to her that is so unsettled by this holiday.
A glass is placed in your hand, and you clear your throat, ripping your gaze away from the skylight — but not fast enough for Amren not to notice.
“It unsettles me,” she says drily, surprising you.
You try your hardest not to blink at the offered snippet of information. “What does?”
“Starfall. What it is. What it signifies.” Taking a slow sip of her wine, she sits on the rug. You follow suit. “Those stars, beings, whatever you want to call them…they are on a journey. Going from one place to another. Perhaps from one world to another. That was once me.”
“…and that unsettles you…”
“Perhaps I know one of them, from many, many years ago. Perhaps they are an associate of a time and a world long-forgotten. A past friend or foe or—”
“A lover?” you supply. You’re not sure you mean to say it.
But Amren’s grey eyes slide to you, and one side of her mouth lifts into a wicked grin, bearing sharp white teeth. “Does that surprise you?”
“Yes. No. I suppose I know nothing of your personal relationships. Of what you like.”
“I like what I like, and I hate what I don’t like.”
You stare at her, thoroughly annoyed and thoroughly entertained. Speaking with Amren is so often trickery and riddles. No matter how much you may feel like you’re getting somewhere, she always leads you on a merry dance that circles you back to the first step.
“And what of you?” she asks, surprising you.
Your eyes snag on the way her razor-sharp black hair moves as she angles her head. The ends tickle the column of her long, creamy neck, adorned with a jewelled necklace. For one moment, for some reason, the sight makes your head empty.
But you shake yourself out of the bizarre reaction and ask, “What of me?”
“What do you like?” Amren asks.
You almost snort as you take a long sip of your wine. Amren is simply not somebody who asks questions about other people very often. And the topic of your love life seems like one that would be trivial and pointless to her.
“Are you asking because you want to know?” you smile. “Or to be polite?”
Another flash of those brilliant teeth. “Have you ever known me to be polite?”
“I suppose not, no.”
“So tell me, girl, what takes your fancy?”
Draining your glass, you set it aside and lounge back, bracing yourself on your hands. And perhaps the wine is already commanding your mind and blurring lines — because it tells you to glance down at the full lips in front of you, painted with red that’s deepened by the dark nectar she sips at.
You do.
Amren watches. The air seems to shift.
“Pour me another glass,” your voice comes out huskier than you intend, “and I’ll tell you.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
“Lions?”
Rare, for Amren to sound like anything besides being perpetually bored. An hour or so later — and too many glasses later — the two of you are sprawled back on the rug, staring at the ceiling.
“Helion keeps lions?” she turns her head to quirk an eyebrow at you.
“Yes,” you answer with a laugh in your voice. “Very real, very fucking huge lions.”
“I rather thought that Pegasuses were his thing.”
“They are. But his lions are a prided jewel of his — and a court secret that I absolutely should not be sharing with you.”
Her petite, lithe body rolls onto its side. She crooks her arm at the elbow and rests her chin there, staring at you through glazed, grey eyes.
It takes only a beat of eye contact for you both to break into laughter.
This is…unusual. And nice. Though the two of you have undoubtedly been growing closer, Amren always has a glass wall up that allows you to peer through but not penetrate. Tonight is the first night that you feel that…that you might be on the other side of that wall. That she might be letting her guard down for you.
You like it. A lot.
The laughter thinning out, she stares at you. It’s a little strange to see those sharp, angled features not appear harsh and ready to slice at anyone. She appears…open. Almost normal.
“Lions,” she repeats, in something like wonderment. “And they just roam about his private estate? Are they tame?”
“He has sprawls of private land on which they can roam freely,” you tell her. “That land is guarded very well, from anyone he doesn’t wish to share the sight with. The lions are very tame. There’s a rumour — though I never got Helion to confirm it — that they once walked on two legs and spoke our language. That thousands of years ago, a curse bound them to their feline form that even Helion’s vast libraries hold no answer to cracking. And since they weren’t able to break the curse, he and his predecessors set to ensure that they would, at least, always be safe and accommodated and able to live comfortably as they are. If it’s true, they seem perfectly happy in their lion bodies.”
“So Helion allowed you access to them? What are they like?”
You smile — at the images that the question conjures up, and the fact that you hold Amren’s interest enough for her to ask it at all. It makes you feel…proud, somehow. Like the cat that got the cream.
“Amazing,” you rest your arms behind your head, taking yourself back to that private land on which you spent so much time — just you and the lions. “They’re just…regal. The males have huge, brilliant manes. The females are so lithe and elegant. The cubs are painfully adorable. There are families of them. Sometimes, they fight. Often, they play. They love to snooze in the sun and frolic in the long grass. The youngsters love splashing each other in the lake. If they recognise you as someone they can trust, you can comfortably sit with them and stroke their fur. They especially like you if you bring them food.”
There’s such a long pause as Amren takes in your words that after a short while, your eyes slide to her, half expecting to find her asleep. But she simply stares at you. Quiet. Assessing.
“I think I would like to see lions,” she says after a moment. To her, it seems to be a huge confession. Something not easy to admit.
You study the perfect lines of her face. That face that appears in your thoughts when you’re trying to sleep, think about absolutely anything but her. You’re not sure you like how drawn you are to her. She’s so unreachable that it only makes you reach harder. So difficult to work out that sometimes, you question if she delights in your company at all.
It is, after all, you who always seeks her out. Since you began your research together, it’s been you who has found excuses to see her.
You who barged your way into her home tonight, while stars collided above you.
And you who might do something unwise if you stay any longer.
You clear your throat, breaking eye contact. Your head feels as though it’s filled with cotton as you sit up and announce, “Perhaps I should go.”
Amren pauses. “Why?”
“I didn’t mean to take up your entire evening.”
“You could stay,” she also sits up, tucking her legs beneath her. “You never did tell me what it is you like.”
You take a moment to just…breathe. You’re not used to Amren being so…warm. It’s dangerous. Exciting. You don’t know if it’s safe.
Slowly, you turn on the floor to face her. “I’m not sure you’d appreciate the answer.”
A dark eyebrow arches. She likes doing that. “Tell it to me anyway.”
Should you? Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Maybe you’ll tell her that thoughts of her keep you awake, not in the forms of nightmares but in the allure of fantasies. Maybe then she’ll cease all work she does with you, and distance herself from you, and you can rid yourself of these feelings—
“You are what I like,” you speak quickly, flushing hot. “Who I like. I was thankful when Rhysand tasked us to work together, because I was already drawn to you. It seems I can’t stay away—”
A flash of dark hair, the potent scent of perfume and wine, are the only warnings you get before Amren is in your face, her perfect mouth sliding over yours. Wine is the overpowering taste of the kiss, but there are hints of other things behind it — sweet vanilla and something floral.
It takes you by surprise, no doubt. But you push the shock away and sink into the rightness of it. Your shoulders slump, body loosening. You slide a hand up to tentatively cup Amren’s cheek, and you kiss her back.
What starts out slow and explorative quickly builds into something that steals the very air from your lungs. Your bodies seem to move in perfect synchronisation, finding the right positions from which the kiss can deepen and grow. Amren kneels between your legs, and a sharp tooth gives the slightest, twinging bite to your lower lip — one that makes you gasp.
The act is deliberate. She slides her tongue into your mouth, folding it around yours. Your tastes mingle until you’re not sure which is yours and which is hers, and that simply will not do. You want her on your tongue. The flavour of her skin and that scent of hers that is quickly growing stronger, thicker, shifting into something else that you would commit sins to taste.
Your fingers sink into Amren’s hair, and she makes a low noise that could be a warning or a plea. The strands, despite always looking sharp enough to slice through rock, are silken, soft. You fist them in your palm and tilt her head back to kiss her deeper.
But she pulls away, her heavy breaths landing on your lips. Her eyes meet yours, and it’s the first time you see her looking anything besides…steeled. Composed.
She looks flustered. Like pulling away from your mouth was the last thing she wanted to do.
“I don’t know what this means,” she blurts.
The admission makes you pause. You agree, “Neither do I.”
“No—not just this. What you do to me. I don’t know what any of this means,” she narrows her eyes at you, almost accusatory. “Emotions like these have always felt pointless to me, but you…”
“…but me?”
“You…” the word is leaden on her tongue. “You are different.”
Her gaze slides to your mouth again, and you can tell that her comfort is in articulating her feelings with actions, not words.
And that is just fine by you.
Like she reads the encouragement straight from your thoughts, a breathy word escapes her. “Yes.”
And then she’s fastening her lips on yours again and stamping out every shred of confusion. No matter what either of you are unable to say, the dance of your mouths can speak it all. For now, no more than that is necessary.
Amren kisses you, and you kiss her. It’s deep, desperate, yearning. It’s bigger than anything and everything. The stars that race through the sky pale in comparison.
This is the real beauty of this night. The real thing you had hoped for. It could end no better way.
You kiss until your mouths are bruised and tender. Until the taste of wine is gone, and there’s nothing but the two of you on your tongues. For all you know, the rest of the world outside this apartment could have disappeared. You’re not sure you care.
You’re the one to pull away this time, but you don’t move far. You part your lips to gulp down breaths and press your forehead to Amren’s. Your voice is a rasp as you joke, “You better not be kissing me just so I’ll show you the lions.”
She laughs — actually laughs. It’s a short, brusque chortle, but it makes you glow with pride.
But she quickly sobers. Her face is serious once more, her eyes drinking you in.
“I’m kissing you, girl,” she says, “because I think about you too much. Because the very first time I laid eyes on you, it scared me — what I might do to look at you forever.”
You try to mask your surprise. You hadn’t realised—
“It was me who suggested to Rhysand that you and I should work together,” she admits. She pulls back a little, as if urging you to read the honesty on her face. “It felt pathetic and foolish, but I did it to be close to you. I can’t stop myself wanting to be close to you.”
Exactly the same feelings you had tortured yourself with all this time. To think that Amren had agonised over it just as you had is comforting, somehow.
You reach out a hand, pinching a strand of her soft hair between your fingers. She watches the action closely.
“Don’t stop yourself wanting it,” you say, not at all sure that it isn’t a plea. “Don’t stop yourself, when I want it, too.”
“…I’m not used to being…unsure of things.”
“Embrace it,” you offer a smile. “Have fun with it.” With me.
She stares at you, brooding and calculating. You wait for her to decide that this is too out of the realms of familiarity. She won’t allow herself to be so vulnerable.
But then she moves her hand to yours — the one still touching her hair. Slowly, tentatively, she laces your fingers together. She stares down at your joined hands as though the sight is alien, fascinating.
“Stay,” she eventually says, glancing up at you. There’s an undertone in her voice, an inference.
“…the entire night?” you hedge. You try to keep the hopefulness out of your tone.
Her red lips lift into a smirk, grey eyes glimmering. “On one condition.”
“Name your price.”
Your heart picks up as she leans in again. Her hair tickles your cheek, and she watches closely as your skin flushes at the proximity. Her lips hover against yours.
But instead of kissing you, she whispers four words that land straight on your waiting mouth.
“Show me the lions.”
#starfall week#starfall week 2024#starfall#amren#amren acotar#amren x reader#amren fic#acotar#acotar series#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fandom#acotar x reader#acotar writing#acotar fanfic#acotar headcanon#acotar fic#prompt
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Not a question. I think you would appreciate the sentiment about facial differences here
https://www.tumblr.com/bonefall/752586923042914304/the-warriors-fandom-for-years-isnt-it-fucked-how (link id: a Tumblr post by bonefall, criticizing how people treat facial differences in the Warrior cat fandom)
taking a quote from the post:
(quote)
“suddenly it is acceptable to make jokes about ickygross deformed babies when the child is a product of incest. As if the child has any control at all over the circumstances of their birth. Like it makes it OK and funny to mock someone's health and appearance if it's from something that invokes disgust.”
(end quote)
Hello,
(Link to the post.) [Edit, link has been fixed]
Literally. Fictional characters with facial differences already get generally poor representation, but characters with facial differences because they were born from incest? They're treated horrifically, both by the writer and the audience. Why can't that instead be something that just gets mentioned briefly and then everyone moves on without making a huge deal of it? I've seen this "reveal" happen before in real life. Not only did those of us who heard it collectively decide that we weren't going to mention it to the person in question because that was probably a very hard situation to have been in, but the person who was told us that information was told not to gossip because she was making fun of another human being's personal medical history.
I believe that people who were born in those circumstances in real life deserve to see good fictional representation of themselves in media. But they aren't getting it and I really wish they were.
The character had no choice in the matter. We, however, have a choice. We can either perpetuate the stigma that harms real people by making everyone think it's okay to be cruel to them for things they had no say in, or we can write characters who mind their own business about this stuff and treating the other character like a person and thus start normalizing the idea that these people are just people.
Why do they always have to be the object of pity and ridicule? Why are they treated as subhuman? Why can't one of these characters be the main character, the love interest, the teacher, the best friend, the superhero? Why aren't these characters allowed to have lives? Why can they only be allowed to fill two tiny, narrowly-defined boxes when people who have these conditions can fill hundreds more? Write that story. I take asks on it.
Mod Aaron
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Still got that Horror Mafiafell Sans brainrot
---
It wasn’t the first time Sans had pulled you into his lap, by any stretch of the imagination. The wads of cash he so often put in your pocket to ‘make up’ for the time you spent trapped had been difficult to explain to the bank at first- by now, it had happened so often that the tellers just got a look on their faces when they saw you walk in
They called you by name without looking at any paperwork. They probably thought YOU were in the mafia.
It was common bar knowledge how fond he was of holding you through his meals. Nowadays, Lisa would jokingly 'warn' you when he came through the doors and his mood was visibly stormy... the deeper his glower, the more likely he was to pull you in without warning when you passed his table, those giant claws sealing tight around a body that immediately became tiny in his presence.
So you should've been used to it.
...
... Something was very new about this time. And it wasn't just the lit cigar between his phalanges, different to his usual brand of choice.
Up against his huge chest. Your cheeks were hot, your heart was thumping. His touch was... different. Sat sideways across his lap, he kept you tucked against him with a hand on your thigh. Though on your thigh was a little bit of an understatement- his hand was so huge, he had nearly all of your thigh in his hold.
The other hand, resting on the table, had the cigar held between the index and middle finger. It felt like an impenetrable barrier between you and the outside world... his gold rings gleaming in the low light.
... Perhaps it was the position of his hand. Holding your thigh gently, but with a possessive hint in the curl of his claws that slightly pressed into your flesh. Big, warm bones, the cold metal of the rings... he was holding you like he owned you.
Either way, you were just staring at his jacket lapel. Finding it very hard to cool down. The smell of smoke and gold was overpowering.
(You’d grown pretty adept at just tuning all table conversations out, for fear of overhearing something dangerous. But today, you couldn’t have concentrated on what was being said to Sans by the other two men at the table, even if you tried to.)
You didn’t know what the meeting he was having was about, and whatever it was, he didn’t seem happy about it. But he wasn't furious in a way that would usually frighten you. His energy was much more... reserved. There was a low scowl written across his face, he looked serious, dark. The crack and his scars cast deep and expressive shadows across his face. You were protected from the entire world, like this.
... Usually, you just felt like a tiny plushie in the arms of a big child who needed comforting. Not this time. And as he brushed his thumb slowly, back and forth across your leg... the prickles ran up your spine.
What's wrong with me? You swallowed. Your heart hadn't slowed down, not one bit, hands balled in your apron. What's going on?
... You heard Sans move, above you. You couldn't help but look up at him- and his big eye moved down to you. He seemed to register your altered state, for the first time, emerging a little from his obvious frustration at the other members of the table.
...
... His expression changed. Something about him shifted, ever-so-slightly.
His grin lifted, sharpened... his sockets fractionally lidded.
He was smirking at you.
You’d grown accustomed to gleaning as much as possible from Sans’ expressions. It was how you judged his mood, how you saw his grabs coming, how you guessed what he was trying to say with the few words he had available.
Perhaps you were too good, now. Because when he leered down at you like that, gently squeezing your thigh... you could practically hear his words purring through your mind.
“aren’t you cute~?”
You immediately broke eye contact, staring at your own knees. But it to was too late- you felt heat completely flood your face.
... Sans returned his attention to the other people at the table. But not before he gave your thigh another little stroke with his thumb. As if making sure you absolutely knew he saw that.
...
You faintly recalled hearing that Sans, before his famous injury, was something of a... playboy. If you were completely honest, it had been very hard to picture the Sans you knew successfully wooing someone.
...
You could imagine it, now. Very, very well.
#llama writes#hmf sans#look. look. i kNOW#HES HOT OKAY#HES SO HOT#and i know we all love that hes a big ol sweetie and a big somft puppy#but i wanted a lil glimpse of the mf in the hmf yknow#he got the Skull Rizz and the Mafiafell Rizz... /combined/#you cant tell me that wouldnt Do Something ifyouknowwhatimsayin
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Happy Hollow-ween | c.san
↠ summary: a classic yet fun activity for the season is to carve a pumpkin.
↠ pairing: san x fem!reader
↠ genres: family, fluff, and slice of life
↠ word count: 0.6k words
↠ warnings/tags: none. established relationship, idol!san, non-idol!reader, married couple, sannie is husband/father material
↠ a/n: yesss!! another of the choi family which is personally one of my fav writings
“Appa! I want this one!”
“Isn’t that a bit huge? It’s bigger than your head, Mimi.”
The beloved Choi Family are at the pumpkin patch, where they’ll find the perfect ones to carve. It’s the autumn season, too. The weather has cooled down, and everyone dressed in cozy outfits.
San picks up a pumpkin that his baby is pointing at. He grunts and uses his strength from those gym workouts because it is heavy. “Y/N! What do you think?!” He calls over his wife, who is busy taking pictures of the lovely area. You turn your attention to your husband and see him struggling with the object. You let a giggle, “It’s almost the same size as The Great Pumpkin from Charlie Brown.” You walk up to the love of your life and your little angel. You assumed it was Sangmi’s choice.
“Okay, I guess we’re taking it.” San tries to look strong, but, for real, his arms are about to break. You know your hubby by heart that he’ll act differently to impress you and Sangmi.
“Do you need help, Sannie?” You snickered. San didn’t hesitate to deny it. “Nope! Nope! I got this!” The man waddles his way to the parking lot. Sangmi holds your hand. “Appa looks funny.” She laughs at her penguin dad. “You know how appa is, aegi (baby).” You tell your little girl. San will do anything for his angel.
Once they arrived home, the Choi Family layered old newspapers on the balcony. San and Sangmi are wearing matching Halloween shirts and plaid sweats. You came out of the kitchen after unboxing the utensils to check on your family.
“Gotta scrape all of the guts out. Like how you pick your nose.” San makes an absurd comparison.
“Ew! Appa! I don’t pick my nose.” Sangmi rebutted and giggled heartily.
The man smirks, “Oh, you don’t? Then what’s this?” He reaches over to tap Sangmi’s button nose. She continues to laugh her head off. You melted by the sound of her angelic voice. Maybe she will become a singer like her dad. You joined the duo by helping them scrape the pumpkin guys.
San sighed tiredly, “Why did she choose this one? It’s going to take ages to carve.” He spoke in a low voice to prevent Sangmi from hearing his complaint. You replied, “Well, you did make a promise to her the moment she was born.” You looked at him with a knowing look. “Promises can’t be broken, I guess.” San meets your gaze, and he shows his cute pout.
No matter what age or how long you’ve known this man, he is forever a sulky child.
“Alright! We are done!” San cheers because it did take ages.
You went to sit with Sangmi and wipe her messy hands clean. “How do you want to carve the pumpkin, Mimi?” You asked.
“Can we do Kuromi?” She looks at her parents with the prettiest cat-like eyes. How can anyone say no to that?
San nods his head with a wide smile. “Yes! I like that idea.” He agrees with his daughter.
When it comes to arts & crafts, San will do it as if it’s a major task. Even though Sangmi wouldn’t mind if it came out ugly, her appa doesn’t accept imperfections.
The hours went by, and the day was now night.
You grabbed a small candle to light up. “Here, sweetheart. Our masterpiece won’t be complete without this.” You handed it to Sangmi. She holds the candle and uses her tiny arms to reach inside the top of the carved pumpkin. She places it in the middle before San grabs the lighter.
“Watch baby. This is a magical moment.” He turns it on, and the flame burns the wick.
Sangmi’s face brightens like the Kuromi pumpkin. “It’s pretty!” She claps her hands.
San shifts his body to the masterpiece in front of him. “Appa did good, right?” He gives you and Sangmi a smug expression.
You rolled your eyes yet smiled at your self-righteous husband. Sangmi just happily nodded to indicate that her appa did a beautiful job.
#ateez#atiny#ateez imagines#ateez fluff#ateez x reader#ateez san#san ateez#choi san#san#san x reader#san x you#san x y/n#san x female reader#choi san x reader#choi san x you#choi san x y/n#choi san x female reader#san fluff#choi san fluff#san imagines
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hi! I hope this doesn't come off as aggressive or too much (sorry if it does🥹), but I have so many feelings about Bruce as a parent and I really dislike those "Bruce Wayne is a terrible father" blanket statements, because no?? First of all, just to get it out of the way, it's (some of) those shitty writers who make horrible character and plot choices so they can sell more comics for the fans to rage-read. Now, I'm not saying Bruce is perfect, no one is, and he is traumatized, but he is absolutely not an abusive parent I will fight anyone on this.
Second of all, even if he was pretty goth pre-Robin, you're telling me having a tiny 8-year-old Dick Grayson as his ward didn't soften him up? Didn't bring light into his life? Didn't rearrange his priorities? The boy is a literal symbol of hope. I genuinely believe those early Robin days were a time of huge character development for Bruce.
All Bruce's kids have made a big impact on him as both Bruce and Batman (just like he made an impact on them), but I feel like people kinda forget the magnitude of the difference a flippy little acrobat kid can make on a man whose house has been hauntingly empty, cold, and silent for years.
Bruce Wayne is a Dad and I will die on that hill.
(Idk if you can tell but I can talk about Bruce and Dick for days)
I understand. I get why folks want to read/write Bad Dad Bruce Wayne, just as I understand folks who want to write Good Dad Bruce Wayne. Usually I read and write fics somewhere in the middle, since it feels the most realistic to me (as realistic as a Batman fic can be, at least).
Bruce isn't a perfect person. But overall, the point is that he tries. He messes up and causes harm, but he usually tries to fix or address it. That's why I love using the tags "Bruce Wayne's B-/C+ Parenting" lol.
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Why does Alan seem less supernatural than his coworkers?
Of course he’s just as dangerous but a lot of his unhinged behaviour and readiness to break the rules can be explained by the way he grew up abused, was being forced to be aggressive to defend himself, his lack of socialisation, being rebellious against a society that didn’t help him, and even an underlying mental condition (maybe inherited from his dad). With the trauma, isolation and demands of his job then turning it all up to 11. I mean, despite being axe crazy and a bit sociopathic Alan still seems mostly human. If a little animalistic. He’s very strong and fast and completely ignores the norms of society but still looks and acts basically human.
Whereas you’ve got dudes like Carver whose whole appearance has warped, and Stitches who was literally created a month ago from components and kills in a body horror way. One look and you know something is very wrong.
Alan also seems to be the only one with the wish or ability to defy the boss. Is it because he rejected the work name and mentally kept his own identity? Are names power here? Literally or symbolically.
It feels like the Boss employs vulnerable drifters, the lost souls. Does the Boss find it easier to control you if you want to reject/forget your identity, are running from your past or a bad situation, or (like Stitches) never had one?
Obviously it is a predatory Leonine contract, basically a deal with the devil. Nobody ends up like this coming from a good situation or with any better choices available. And the horrific consequences if you leave or disobey are a huge factor. But I’m covering subtleties and the differences between the coworkers.
Or is it because in spite of how cruel life and people have been to Alan he still has a tiny scrap of humanity left? Before he only had the solace of animals. Doe Eyes has reminded him how starved he is for kindness and love, maybe recalling the time before his mom died when he had a family, and Doe Eyes is human.
It makes it hard to obey the solitary rule. To stay misanthropic and emotionally shut down enough to continue indiscriminately killing people for the Boss.
(I’m the shy anon who suggested the idea of untraumatized Ranger Alan a long while back 👋 Wherever he is, whenever he is, I hope he’s happy and well adjusted.)
(I love this question and I love your username!!!)
I like to think that Alan still has a part of him, that wants to weasel his way back into society, especially after meeting his Doe-eyes. But he can never have it. It's selfish of him to want.
Boss is unpredictable and very much so picks those who believe they are someone without a cause. I'd like to think that The Beast's song "Come Wayward Souls" applies to him. However, he can still influence his employers. If he sees someone get out of line, he would simply have to put them back in place. Alan, however, never gave Boss any hassle, not even when he first found him. You could say he has a clean track record when it comes to his job. Until doe-eyes that is.
When I say that Boss kinda has favorites.
He truly does.
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I sometimes reblog posts about US Americans being weird here, but honestly I don't love how angry or smug most of these posts are. It's just that angry and smug posts tend to get more traction, and so they get reblogged more, and so I tend to see them and reblog them myself. Hm, maybe there's a lesson for all of social media and for me in particular here.
Anyway, what I want out of these posts is not for any US Americans here to feel bad; it's just "funny" and perhaps, perhaps a tiny bit of consideration for how being US American means you experience the internet on easy mode.
This is not your personal fault. Nor is it ethically wrong. It's just a thing that exists, and it may be worth thinking about it.
Examples of that easy mode include:
It's your language. The vast majority of people on the internet need to know a second language to at least participate passively, let alone actively post. It's not just the internet; for e.g. my job, all documentation for all the tools is only in English, and I was required to listen to English lectures and write both my bachelor's and master's thesis in English, my second language, to pass. That's why e.g. posts about bilingualism tend to cause a bit of a discussion, because knowing a second language isn't a special skill but a necessary survival tool.
It is your world-wide culture. The list of most popular video games, TV shows, movies and songs tend to be fairly similar across the world (in particular the part of it we call it the western world, another discussion that I'll get into below), and they're dominated by the output of US media. There is no equivalent to e.g. Disney anywhere outside of the US.
It's your debates and discussions. Because of the huge importance the US has economically and culturally (not to mention militarily), we tend to discuss US topics a lot, and we tend to discuss them from an American point of view.
This introduces American oddities into a lot of the world. For example, I'm a STEM guy, I have a STEM education, a STEM job and my primary hobbies are also STEM based, so what I notice are imperial measurements like feet and inches. Those are not "one of two equally valid choices", they're the unique hobby of the English-speaking countries, and within them, increasingly only the US. But we still tend to see them here as if they were a normal usual thing, and often europeans (including me) feel compelled to provide translations into these units.
But it's not limited to that, court room dramas are another example where courts in the English-speaking world tend to work very differently from those in the rest of the world. E.g. there's no pleading guilty or innocent in most of the world. There are boundless more examples of that, and these things can be grating every once in a while.
As I said before, I don't think there's any moral value here either way. You're not wrong for being an American (but you're also not better because of it). As I hinted at before, I'm still in a very privileged position myself, being from a wealthy European country, and my culture even without Disney is still far closer to that of the US than it is to most of the rest of the world. I'm sitting in the very same glass house, just maybe a different corner (TODO fix this metaphor before posting).
For example, I'm talking about court rooms and inches versus meters, but if we're thinking about history and ethics, there's deep issues in both of them. When it comes to measurements, it's ultimately the question of whether you use the measurements of London or those of Paris. For most of the world it's a colonial imposition either way. You can make arguments for why one is better for technology than the other (and as you can probably guess, I have strong opinions here), but in the grand scheme of things, neither of them is more "ethical" or more "universal", not really anyway. Same with the way legal systems work, where again, countries either adopted (and more often than not were forced to adopt) either the English system or the French system (with quite a few countries choosing to adopt the German version of the French system as well).
I know that's a boring digression but it's something that's usually missing from these posts, especially ones written by europeans, including some I've written myself. I don't really have a conclusion to any of this either, except perhaps that this is something that's worth being aware of.
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Ok I have gone through all available evidence and I have a prediction.
Look I'm ngl I am watching Arcane for Cait and Vi. I love the show overall but this ship is what I'm most here for, especially after I spent the last 3 years under the assumption that Mel was dead. Glad she isn't. Point is, I really want CaitVi/Violyn/Piltover's Finest to be handled well, and I pay a disproportionate amount of attention to what happens with these two.
After watching the first arc of season 2 the other day, I was trying really hard to ignore the ending to episode 3. I didn't like that Cait hit Vi in the stomach and abandoned her in a pit after being all classist at her, but I thought, this is Arcane. Arcane is the greatest fucking thing I've ever seen, of course they're gonna find a way to make this work. But that made me think of it as a puzzle. How could they possibly make this work?
Option one, Cait sucks now and she and Vi don't get back together. I don't think this makes sense, because of the brand. CaitVi is a popular ship that just about everybody likes. A huge amount of the hype for this season before the trailers came out was building up assurances that don't worry, CaitVi is happening and it's not gonna be ambiguous. Take this teaser from like two weeks after season 1 ended, a couple of Valentine's Day icons, and one million tweets from Amanda Overton. Why the fuck would they make this season be about Cait and Vi not working out? It simply doesn't make logical sense.
Ok, so we're starting from the assumption that Cait and Vi have a happy ending that makes people feel like they should be together, and continue to want to play as them in the games and buy merchandise. That means they either explicitly get back together, or it's so implied there isn't much of a difference. My money is on zero ambiguity. Vi is the main character and Cait is maybe #3 or #4. Ambiguity about their ending would just look like a weak writing choice and they didn't know what they're doing. The Arcane writers don't tend to go for wishy washy.
But here's the problem. Domestic violence is bad. It's about the fastest way to guarantee the majority of your audience doesn't think two characters should be together. It would take a herculean effort on Cait's part to make up for that and honestly I still wouldn't believe it. To me, there isn't any kind of act of service that makes up for hitting your partner. Not even ensuring the independence of the nation of Zaun. Add on top of that the over the top hurtful comments about Vi's blood and class. It makes her look very much like, deep down, she thinks of Vi as beneath her. If she meant those things, a relationship between them is impossible. (Not to mention how many teenaged girls I know are watching this, and I don't want them to think it's ever okay to be treated like that, even in a fantasy series.)
So my prediction is this. The only way to make a relationship between Cait and Vi viable again is to render those comments and the sentiment they carry meaningless. How do the writers do that? Imo it turns out later that Cait intentionally came up with cruel things to say to cut Vi loose. She realized that Vi would never be able to kill Jinx, and this new explosion will make the situation aboveground even worse, and Vi still won't be able to contribute to the hunt after this. Vi has no future as an enforcer against Jinx and will probably get treated like dogshit as a Zaunite, so Cait is "breaking her heart to save her", as Tvtropes would say. In Cait's mind, it's better if she's left down here in Zaun.
What evidence do I have for this? It fits Cait's characterization as a genius who thinks quickly and several steps ahead. It fits the tiny animation details we zero in on of her stiffening her trembling lips and furled eyebrows. It un-ruins the most popular canon relationship in League. It allows act 1 to end on massive shock value but roll it back later to show that Cait actually does love Vi, enough to let her go for her own good.
I'm not arguing this is the best possible solution but it's the one I think they're going to go with. Amanda Overton and some others have repeatedly said that CaitVi fans will be happy with the ending to Arcane. Everything about the show(the opening, Netflix Brazil's Twitter account, the story) points to them being the show's OTP except for this one scene. I think Cait intentionally cut Vi out of her life by pretending to be much crueler than she wanted to be, to protect her and, likely, as a form of self destruction.
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Hiiii💕💕 me again I really loved your story and writing style<3
But any way I have a other idea, here it goes when Adam meet male reader for the first time and when he first saw him quickly thought of Eve and Lilith? But he tried brush those thoughts out of his mind when they start to know each other more but Adam can not stop looking at him this time y/n wanted to make a joke so he says.
"Do I look like your girlfriend?"
"No.. My late wife (or something else)... I cannot believe it"
"You could've been her twin!"
"Your face.. Your voice... Just your hair and clothes are different-"
"My name, is y/n l/n"
If you can thank you 💕💕
You'll be from now on known as "💕💕", also really love that idea!! So here ya go babes xoxo/p
Pretty baby with the sun in his eyes
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
You had first met him when Sera had introduced you to him in her office. It had been a little weird to meet the first man to ever be created, not because you had been nervous but because he hadn't been able to stop staring at you. It had seemed as if his eyes were glued onto you, no matter what you had done, his eyes had been onto you, drinking in every tiny little movement you had made. His expression had been blank, though, there was no way you could've known what had been going on behind those eyes of his.
To Adam it had been quite the shock to lay eyes on you for the first time. Your facial features looked so similar to Lilith's, your voice reminded you of Eve’s, it made him feel home. He shook that thought out of his head immediately, Eve wasn't supposed to sound like home and your face that could've been the face of Lilith's younger brother made his stomach feel heavy and his heart skip a beat every now and then. Fuck no, he wasn't seeing his ex wives in you - at least he told himself so, he was very aware that was a total lie.
And that was something that never really changed. Because once the first man had found out that you were a fellow rock enjoyer, he had been quick to give you calls every now and then, inviting you for jam sessions, the concerts his band played and sometimes even for small things like grabbing lunch together or getting ice cream. You two had been quick to figure out that you enjoyed a lot of the same things, you were quite similar. But Adam's eyes never managed to truly leave your body, one way or another they were always onto you, always putting you in some sort of unique spotlight.
Three months after first meeting him you were on the way to his apartment, he had invited you over - why you didn't really know, he had simply sent you a text that read ‘Pull up, bitch’. And given the fact that you had nothing better to do for the day, you went.
Arriving at Adam's place was surely something, he was living in that huge flat, of course he was. The first man seemingly only got the best of the best. You snorted as he swung open the golden door that you had just knocked on, he was wearing an oversized band shirt - of his own band, no way that dude would wear any other kind of merch than his own - and a pair of white sweatpants with golden stripes on the sides. His mask was somewhere, it was definitely not covering up his handsome face this time and you thanked God silently for that gift.
“Sup, babes,” he smirked as he stepped aside in order to invite you in. The second you set foot inside his home his eyes decided to never leave your body again.
This time you made the choice to address it, you were low-key sick of dodging the topic even though it was as obvious as it could get. “What’s with the staring, big guy, do I remind ya of your girlfriend?” your lips had curled up into a small yet cocky smirk as you raised an eyebrow at him. The brunette rolled his eyes at that, you knew he had no girlfriend, that well you knew each other at this point. Yet he couldn't deny that you did remind him of Lilith and Eve. “Nah babes, no girlfriend in this guys life, you know it,” he casually hummed as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder to guide you to the living room, “However, your ass reminds me of my ex wife.” You raised your eyebrow even higher, giving him a side eye, “What, you're saying you're staring at my face all day because my ass reminds you of some bitch you were married to?” That didn't really add up to you and you called bullshit on it. It simply made zero sense. But Adam was quick to clarify, a sigh left him before he explained, “No man, what I mean is you remind me of both my first and my second wife. Your face looks so much like Lilith's, in the name of the holy spirit, you could be her fucking twin brother,” he paused a moment, then continued, “And your voice, fuck, it reminds me of Eve’s, it sure sounds fucking deeper, duh kinda obivious, but… it holds the same warmth as hers.”
Now it was for you to stare at him. He had just told you you looked and sounded like two women he had been married to, that you could be their brother - twin brother even. How were you supposed to react to that? Was it even meant as a compliment?
“Well, quick reminder that my name's Y/N Y/L, I'm neither fucking Lilith nor Eve, get that shit inside your head.” Adam raised his hands in defense, “Nah, trust me I know. You look and sound like them but your personality is so fucking different from them, they were whores.” It really didn't surprise you how he talked about them because from what you knew, he wasn't wrong and had every right to be upset. “Good,” you crossed your arms over your chest, “Because if you ever fucking dare to moan their names, I'm fucking out.” It was a joke, clearly, but yet you saw a faint brush on his cheeks.
Oh you would definitely continue to tease him like that.
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would kai have saved bonnie if damon left her ?
The simple answer imo is yes - the complicated answer would be his *reasons* for saving her.
I feel like if Kai saved Bonnie in 6x22, it would be VERY different from when he saved her in 6x13 on her bday. In 6x13, saving Bonnie was a huge sacrifice Kai made bc of his newfound guilt and other growing feelings about her. But if Kai saved her in 6x22, that man would do it out of SPITE lmfao. Like sure, maybe a *tiny* fragment of leftover post-merge Kai would save her bc he believed she deserved better, but at the mental state that he was in by 6x22, i think a larger part of him would actually be looking to save her out of this petty urge to make bonnie suffer, bc dying would be too easy for her according to his thought process 💀
In canon, remember how Kai got annoyed by damon seemingly deciding to let bonnie die and choosing elena over her super quickly? He complains, saying smthg like "This decision was supposed to torture him," bc he wanted damon to agonize over the bonnie vs elena choice for a long time. Similarly, i think bonnie dying just like that would eliminate a lot of the angst, pain and tension of the situation, so Kai would save her life *just* so bonnie and damon would be forced to live with the uncomfortable reality of damon choosing elena over her and deal with the emotional fallout of that instead of pretending they have the world's best friendship, as they'd been doing for all of S6 (bc Kai would enjoy watching that mess).
Ofc, that would probably result in Bonnie aiming a lot of her resentment towards Kai for forcing her to face those hard truths, but maybe, after an initial explosion (and a lil nudging from Kai), she might realize that targeting kai is just shooting the messenger rather than addressing the root problem (her toxic friends). If it hadn't been kai, then somebody else would've made bonnie see the truth but either way, that's something she needed to see.
Realistically, even after this realization, i don't think bonnie would've suddenly warmed up to kai, but i think it might've pushed her to ditch damon instead of sticking around Mystic Falls to help him all the time (which would've consequently made Kai suddenly lose interest in Mystic Falls too xD). If Damon then chose to seek her out to beg her (read: force her) to defeat the town's new villains-of-the-week, or if he found her w his humanity off and tried to kill her to get elena back, i think kai might've surprised them all by appearing out of nowhere to get damon off bonnie's case (bc kai being kai was prob keeping tabs on bonnie's whereabouts as soon as she skipped town).
And maybe Kai's sudden appearance would've led to a bonkai confrontation with Kai realizing he may have saved her out of spite in 6x22, but there is no explanation for why he saved her from damon this time besides.. *wanting* bonnie to get her life away from her friends. And maybe that would've also led him to unsubtly point out that an elena-free existence had actually made bonnie's life better, thanks to kai.
Bon would probably kick his ass halfway across the world after a comment like that but i think it would stick with her, making its way under her skin as it sinks in that the horrific thing Kai did really did end up working out for her in the long run. Bc as we know, even at his lowest, there was always some part of Kai that begrudgingly wanted bonnie's attention and validation and rly resented her friends getting that from her while walking all over her. It would take a long time, but slowly and surely, i think Bonnie's intuition would eventually pick up on that tiny part of Kai that saved her life to show her that she deserved better. It would be very uncomfortable for her to realize that Big Bad Kai could no longer be an easy scapegoat for all her problems, but that might be just what she needs to finally see Kai as a person, rather than a monster. And from there? Well, looots of opportunities and potential would open up from there 😏
#bonkai#bonnie bennett x kai parker#bonnie x kai#bonnie bennett#kai parker#anti damon#tvd#asks#mine#headcanon#bonkamily
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Absolutely love the rendition to the panel of Hades holding Persephone. Lovely to see it rendered as a more mutual act with Perse holding onto Hades instead of just letting Hades hold her, and ofc seeing Persephone actually look like an adult woman. (Not to even mention the colors and rendering because whoaa those were lovely)
And I have a question about this new rendition if I’m allowed to make it! The original had very dramatic and sharp composition with the angles and being off centered which conveyed much of the emotions and style that made early LO very striking. In adapting it, was it a conscious choice to change the composition or what were the deciding factors that made you and banshriek decide centering Perse and Hades worked better in this situation? :0
Ahhh thank you ;w; It took a few rounds of sketching to get the pose just right, the flats thankfully weren't as difficult as I was worried they'd be, but the challenge was definitely in trying to get the pose right while maintaining the height difference that's there.
As for your question, a lot of the posing and sketch composition is something I do, and then Banshriek typically goes wild with the backgrounds while making adjustments to those compositions if necessary, often times I leave the backgrounds up to their discretion as they're 10x more skilled at that sort of thing than I am and they often bring new perspectives to the table. This means that it often ends up being a game of give and take between what we contribute, sometimes I'll have sketches that they feel need to be adjusted, other times I'll have to add little tweaks to their backgrounds if it's missing something. We're both working off a base rough sketch, but we both get to contribute to the final scene in our own ways; splitting it between background and character flats has been a happy middle that's worked well for us :)
Depending on the scene, sketches can range from minimal to more detailed. Here's the original base sketch for that scene:
So originally there was a larger tree working over the side but I didn't really know how detailed we wanted to be in the actual full background, much of it depended on how complex Banshriek wanted to get. You can also tell that Persephone's face was originally buried into Hades' chest in the original panel, which I originally flatted in, but then wound up changing because I wanted her eyes to be visible to reflect both of their expressions of relief at the same time.
That said, with the pose changing from what it was in the original (from Persephone almost laying on Hades vs. him holding her and lifting her up) the composition had to change with it so I decided to just make them a bit more centered, that way the focus would be fully on them and the balance of the scene wouldn't feel "off" due to the pose change. I tend to follow the Rule of 3 here !
So yeah! That's pretty much why centering it felt a little better in this case. Though part me of does wish I was able to keep the original pose, when breaking that scene down into its bones I found it had to take a lot of liberties with its anatomy and proportions, as many LO scenes do. You can't really tell just on a surface level but Persephone's head is huge and the rest of her body is tiny (her hips literally come up to Hades' sternum and her feet meet at his knees). With the character design changes made in Rekindled to make Persephone a little less tiny and more consistent in her body type (while still maintaining the size difference between them) and to reflect their character arcs at this point (as I'm not rushing them into intimacy quite like the original comic did) certain things have to change to balance it out and accommodate. If you're a math person, think of it like solving algebra equations - what you do to one side of the equation needs to be reflected and adjusted on the other side.
And of course Banshriek did a lot more to really exemplify the mood shift in the almost labrynth-like forest Persephone grew within Tower 4. There are still trees and plant life everywhere, but instead of feeling like an endless maze with its tones of deep red that we saw Hades navigate, it now feels like a soft and gentle meeting point for the two. Like the original scene, the color change is used to change the mood of the scene and reflect the calmness of Hades and Persephone as they've found one another.
At the end of the day we did what we ultimately thought would work best for the way Rekindled is drawn, giving both Banshriek and I the freedom to fully utilize our respective skillsets. That way we were able to pay tribute to that original scene while also creating something new out of it <3
That said, I'm sure @banshriek can also chime in with their own design notes on this episode, if they have a minute to spare! I'm sure they'll have lots to say about the fun they had working with those new brushesヽ(・∀・)ノ
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If you’re debating whether or not to get an MFA in writing here’s some points of interest from my experience.
If your only goal is to get published you don’t need the degree if you don’t want it. There’s ways to meet people and contact agents and self publish outside of the types of connections and knowledge you’ll get from a masters degree
If you want to teach creative writing in North America it’s technically possible to get a job without a masters but it’s extremely difficult. There’s also usually an opportunity to get practical teaching experience in the MFA program.
It’s difficult to get in these programs because the classes are usually really tiny. My program only admits 6 people a year. It’s also expensive to apply but once you get in they usually have funding available to you through work.
Making connections with other writers is a huge reason to get in a writing program. You often get the opportunity to meet visiting writers in addition to your classmates and professors. Socializing with people is actually a really important part of most arts educations. It gives you a support system of people in the industry and some people to hopefully write blurbs for your books
A lot of the work done in academia is literary writing. There’s still a potential place for you if you write genre fiction and people will likely support you in that but it’s an important thing to keep in mind.
Some schools might try to push you towards adapting a particular sort of style or mostly pick people or have faculty with a certain style. Other schools will generally have a more diverse array of types of writers and not have a distinctive style. Neither of these things is inherently better but it is something to think about when asking questions and investigating. I purposefully applied to schools with diverse and different types of work coming out of them.
If you just want a degree or don’t want to move a low residency MFA is probably the choice for you. Those are mostly online and you generally visit campus in person once or twice a year. High residency MFAs are the ones where you live and work there and are a full time student. These are generally either one or two year programs. The length of program you want depends on you and what you want out of the program. I chose a three year program because I wanted to take more classes.
You get a lot of unstructured time to write even when you’re working. If that’s important to you it might be a good place to figure out your process. It’s a lot of work but you usually decide how much you get out of it and how much work you get done.
You may be expected to teach or TA classes, give public readings of your work, or give presentations to your classes. It’s not a degree free of public speaking.
If you want to get experience in publishing a lot of masters programs run literary magazines or have relationships with local magazines and publishers you can get involved with. If you’re interested in this that’s something to look into when deciding what schools to apply to
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