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jinx-xxed · 6 months ago

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Beautiful Thing Caged

Chapter 2; You’re wrong but you’re right

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; We made it to part 2 guys let’s go!! Next chapter will be more fun I hope T_T definitely struggled a bit with this one

⇦ Part 1

Part 3 ⇨

Summary; You dive headfirst into trying to learn more about this beast-man you’ve been assigned to. You didn’t expect for things to run so deep.

Content; Werewolf AU, modern AU, werewolf Kylo Ren, human reader, scientist reader, soulmates, lots of research and sciencey things, blood testing, Kylo acts like a smartass, reader’s over him already

[Each chapter will have specific content warnings.]

Wc; 4.1k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Your head slips from where it’d been resting on a closed fist. You barely catch yourself in time before you slam face first into the table beneath you. You’d been dozing off again, something you find yourself doing more and more as sleep escapes you night after night. You straighten your posture, groaning as you stretch your limbs out to try and wake them back up. Your laptop sits open and on in front of you, fifteen tabs open at the top—each one more incomprehensible than the last. Wolf-man hybrids, wolf shifter, wolf man, man wolf, what do I do when a weird guy is locked up against his will by a secret government agency??, wolf man illegal topic, guy with wolf ears and tail… That last one gave you some less than desirable results that you’d rather forget.

When you aren’t at the Agency, you find yourself in the town’s local library. It’s a rather large building for the size of your town, which you’re grateful for, so it’s been very easy for you to seclude yourself in your research in the past two weeks. It’s the same every day; the receptionist greets you as you walk in, you beeline for the back of the first floor, and you take the first empty table you see. Then you grab whatever books might be helpful and scatter them all around yourself and your laptop, which you’ve done now.

You grab a new handful every time, seeing if anything can help you at all. So far you’ve come up empty. You started with the basics, reading books about wolves and their behavior just to refresh and learn more about them, then a simple human biology textbook, then you tried myths and legends and folklore books, flipping through them and studying any diagrams you were provided with. You saw more than a few that were under the umbrella of beast-men, things that stood on two legs and were covered in grisly fur and muscle. When you compared those images to the man that’s been occupying your head, they just didn’t match. He’s more man than beast, a fact that’s been haunting you.

You wish he would talk to you. You’d spent the last two weeks sitting in that white observation room, watching him and what he does in silence that was only broken by the clicking of your keyboard and occasionally talking to yourself. Hell, you still didn’t even know if he actually could speak or not. He didn’t give you much of a chance to figure it out, and you didn’t have a partner or anybody to bounce ideas off of. Hux had threatened you enough about telling anyone else about your studies.

You sigh harshly and dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, making yourself see stars. Focus. You lean in a little more against the table, bringing your laptop closer so you can type something in. Your research had led you to a small, online forum consisting of people that seemed to be looking into the same things you are—real life human-beast hybrids, not just the myths. When you’d discovered it a day ago, it’d seemed like your saving grace. The people in it didn’t seem very active anymore, but you’d sent a message, a hopeful shot in the dark. You’re delighted to see a notification in your inbox from the forum. You honestly hadn’t expected a response, your hopes having been dashed so many times you didn’t dare get them up again.

Your original message had been simple, just an introduction under a fake name and a vague question about if anybody knew something about wolf-man beasts. Somebody by the user of JHunter12 responded.

You: Hello, I’m new here! I’ve been working on a research project for school and got stumped. I was wondering if you guys could help? It’s about wolf-man hybrids, like a man having actual wolf ears and a tail and all that. I just can’t seem to find very much on them.

JHunter12: Yeah I know plenty about them. The term you’re looking for is lycanthrope. People don’t talk about them much anymore after they went basically extinct.

Your heart leaps into your throat at this new information. You suddenly feel wide awake. That simple message gave you more information than you’d gotten in the past two weeks of your research. You open a sixteenth tab and copy the term the user had said and sure enough, a whole page popped up. You couldn’t help yourself from grinning, looking at the wolf hybrids you saw on your screen. None of them exactly matched your subject, but this is by far the closest you’ve gotten. Scrolling down, you see a couple articles from years ago about the mutation, or what they call a “disease”. You switch tabs back to the forum, your mind stuck on the last word they’d said.

You: Extinct?

You’re shocked at how quickly they respond.

JHunter12: Yup. Happened like 100 years ago or something. Lycans used to live with normal people no problem until governments decided it actually was a problem once they started mixing too much and a bunch of hybrid babies were popping up. People started going on man hunts like crazy and the government just let it happen, sometimes ordered it themselves. Took their numbers down to basically zero. Wolf populations struggled cuz of it too, everybody thought every normal wolf was a Lycan even though there’s obvious differences. It was a massacre. Awful stuff.

JHunter12: The government tries to cover it up by making it really hard to search for and not letting anybody talk about it. Only reason I ever found out is cuz my great grandpa was one of those hunters. He killed multiple of them. Now I spend most of my time researching them and finding out whatever I can. I’m glad someone else is also interested.

You sit there staring at your screen for a minute, rereading the messages a good few times. You had no idea that there’d been an extinction campaign against the very thing that sat about a forty-five minute drive away in an underground cell. It made you feel sick. It also explained why you’d struggled so much to find any information until now. Even working at a government agency, you knew nothing about this. You wonder if any of your superiors knew, or if they were in the dark like you were. It’s all very strange.

You: Wow I did not expect that at all. Thank you so much for all of your insight, you have no idea how much this has helped me.

Jhunter12: Of course. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask.

You shut your laptop quickly, irrationally fearful that you’ve learned a lot of things you shouldn’t have and you don’t want anyone else seeing. You look out the window near you, the sun having begun to set. The library will be closing soon, which means it’s time for you to pack up. You quickly put away all the books you had scattered about, shove everything into your backpack, and make your way out with a muttered goodbye to the receptionist.

Walking out of that library, even though you have so much new information to research, you can feel that sleep is finally going to come easily to you tonight.

» ☆ «

You researched as much as you could when you’d gotten home, fascinated by how much you were finding now compared to the barren wasteland you had before. The person on the forum had been correct, there was almost nothing you could find about the eradication of lycanthropes; the few articles you did manage to dig up were buried deep within Google’s results, clearly not wanting to be found easily. None of them were very specific, but when they were put together, they created a fuller picture. When you put in the right keywords and followed enough secondary links, you even managed to find a few small studies from years and years ago.

Lycans lived like any other person, they had the same diets, human habits, same intelligence, they just had a genetic mutation. Nobody seems to be sure where it originated from or what exactly caused it—there’s plenty of religious theories—but blood samples showed a mixture of wolf and human intricately tied together. Autopsies revealed other strange mutations within the body that allowed them to shift between a human form and a quadrupedal wolf form. When in the wolf form, they were unable to talk but could still convey communication through retained human intelligence. It was all so interesting.

Reading through stories of the Lycan Massacre on the other hand, was devastating. There was so much hatred thrown at these people who had no say in how they were born, who had families and whole lives ahead of them. Hunted down and killed just because of misunderstandings and misplaced fear—farmers thinking Lycans killed their livestock, townspeople seeing things in the woods, general irrationality and hysteria. All of the Lycans were taken out and it’s assumed that any who managed to escape live out their days in total secrecy or as wild animals. If they’re discovered, well… you have proof of what happens to them.

Walking in to work the next day, you have a bit of a spring in your step. You finally managed to sleep, and you have a document that’s about twelve pages long and full of your research sitting on your laptop. You feel like you’re finally getting somewhere, like you’ll finally have something worthwhile to submit to Hux instead of hourly play by plays of how many times your subject moved his legs.

You walk down the halls, you give a courtesy nod to whoever you pass, you get into the elevator. You go down, down, down, all the way to the twentieth floor where you walk through more sterile, white hallways. There’s been a few additions to this floor, a few new experiments. They aren’t your concern though, you don’t have clearance to look at them, just like no one else has clearance to look at yours. Speaking of which, your badge gives you that lovely beep and then you’re through the door.

The beast-man immediately snaps to attention once you enter. It’s the same routine every day, where you’ll come in and he’ll study you, those undeniably pretty brown eyes always finding yours and communicating something you can’t quite understand. It always feels like there’s something on the edge of your mind when you look at him, but you can’t get a hold of it despite your efforts.

His chains rattle as he moves from where he’d been lying on his cot, which has now been upgraded to a bigger size thanks to your persistence. You went to Hux and asked him to put in a request for more enrichment and comforts within your subject’s cell on the basis that “it would improve research results”. A lie at the time, but you have noticed he seems more engaged and at ease with the extra blankets, pillows, and padding on the floor. You also met with the nutritionist so that he isn’t just eating raw meat day after day.

You notice his held tilt as you walk in. He sees the change in your demeanor, wonders what it could be for. His tail twitches behind him. “Good morning.” You say out of habit, even though you know he won’t say anything back. You often end up talking to yourself when you’re with him, filling the empty space with whatever’s on your mind just to get it out. He seems to listen rather intently and oddly enough, your voice also seems to calm him. It encourages you to keep going.

You set a few of your things on the ground. “I’ll be back in an hour or two. I have a few tests to run.” He watches you intensely as you head towards a door to your right, his body leaning forward to follow you. You shiver as goosebumps rise along your skin.

There’s blood samples waiting for you in the lab. They’d been taken in the dead of the morning and were prepped for processing, one of your coworkers on this project having let you know via email. They also let you know that those samples were not easy to get and required more than a few rounds of sedatives. Apparently, your subject had been able to smell the sedatives in his food and refused to eat so they had to do it the hard way. You can only imagine how much of a struggle that must’ve been.

You sigh and pull out one of the rolling chairs, using it to wheel around the lab room to get everything ready. Turning on the microscope, preparing the blood vials and testing strips, the glass slides, your notes. You start with a blood smear, the smear just a little wonky because you’ve never been able to get it perfect. You shake it to dry it—your least favorite part—and then slip it under the microscope. You take a minute to adjust it correctly, to get the image to come clearly through the lens. When you finally get it, you see all the little red blood cells come into focus. You move the slide around with the knobs of the microscope, inspecting carefully. You scribble things down on a notepad you have next to you that you’ll put in to your laptop later. Everything seems perfectly normal; no malformed cells, regular cell counts, and just all around healthy blood. That’s good to see.

Now to test something you’re far more curious about. You prepare all the reagents and machinery you’ll need for obtaining a DNA sample through blood, and then get to work on separating it from the rest of the blood sample. With the high tech of the First Order Agency, it’s able to cut down the wait time on a DNA blood test significantly from a few days to only a little over an hour. While working, you think about how much easier this would’ve been if you could’ve just gotten a swab of the inside of his mouth. Having seen those fangs though, you were not keen on trying to get one.

You wait for the final step of the testing to be finished, deciding to put in all your notes in the meantime. Hux will probably groan as soon as he sees your long, long document in his inbox. Once the test is done, you eagerly roll your chair over and start transferring the results. They come to you in the forms of graphs and charts, detailing the intricacies of his DNA and general ancestry that you aren’t really concerned about—he does have a good amount of German in him though. You’re more interested in what makes up his DNA and sure enough, you find it. On the second page, there’s a sector for anomalies noted within the coding. The one that takes up the most space is labeled under the Canis lupus family, making up about 51%. The other 49% is Homo sapien, as expected. So those studies online were correct, the DNA of Lycans is an almost perfect mix of wolf and human.

“Fascinating,” you mutter to yourself, feeling like you’re on cloud nine with all the new information you’ve been able to gather just in the last twenty-four hours. You’re finally getting somewhere.

You transfer the charts to your laptop and attach them to your document before beginning to clean up. You put in what needs to go in the autoclave, you toss the glass slides, and you make sure to sterilize everything. Before you leave the lab, you can’t help but hesitate. Your eyes slide to your right, where there’s another door. You know that door will lead to a hallway that’ll bring you to his cell. Bring you inside. The thought lasts for about a second before you dismiss it as you being insane.

The beast-man perks up again as you finally enter back into the observation room. You settle yourself in your usual spot on the floor, a comfortable distance away from him. “Sorry that took a little longer than expected. I was just testing your blood. Everything looked great.” You tell him. He doesn’t seem all that bothered either way. It amuses you.

You study him for a while, just like you always do. You watch how he moves, how he looks at you, how he inspects his dinner so carefully—definitely paranoid after the other workers tried to put sedatives in there. You’re glad to see his meal is a mixture of both raw and cooked meats, along with vegetables and fruits. You’d written to the nutritionalists to tell them what kind of meat he didn’t like based on your studies as well, so they no longer included those. He seems much more eager to eat with the new variety and it makes you happy.

He settles again afterwards, lounging around and staring at you. You work on your observation logs, inputting information, organizing it… it’s all a very familiar pattern. One you’ve grown accustomed to throughout the entirety of your-

“Kylo.”

You jolt, nearly jumping out of your own skin. Your head shoots up, brows deeply furrowed in confusion. Who…? You look towards the beast-man, whose intense eyes meet yours not a second later. Surely not?

But you watch as he speaks with a voice deep and rich. “My name is Kylo. Kylo Ren.”

You stand up so abruptly that your laptop falls to the ground with a clank and you stumble over your feet. “You can talk?!”

He squints at you. “Yes, of course I can. Are you stupid?”

You’re excitement deflates a little, an annoyed frown settling on your mouth. So his first words he says to you are mean, great. You push past that. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” You think about how much you’ve talked to yourself around him while he understood every word and just chose not to speak. You feel embarrassment sizzle under your skin.

He sniffs. “I didn’t like you.”

“If you’re just going to be rude then feel free to go back to not speaking.” You say through gritted teeth.

“I feel that you can’t get on me for being rude when I’m the one locked in a cell.” He points out, shifting his body to sit facing you with his legs crossed. “I only speak now because it seems you’re trustworthy. I believe you don’t want to do this either.”

You falter at his words, at the way he’s able to see through you so easily. It’s like all those hours he’s spent staring at you was really just him reading you, gathering information of his own. You try to make some excuse. “Well I… it’s just a job.”

He hums. “I can see that you care too much, though. It eats through you. That’s why I decided to trust you.”

You don’t know what to think of his analysis, of him basically taking your thoughts from your head and laying them out before you. You sigh through your nose and sit back down on the ground. “Okay… well… would I be able to ask you some questions, Kylo?”

He seems delighted by you saying his name, his ears perking atop his head and his tail giving the smallest twitch. His head tilts to the left. “Go ahead. I’ll answer what I want to.”

“I figured.” You mutter. You pull your laptop back to you, opening a voice note to record. You press start. “Alright… let’s start with the basics. How old are you?”

“I think 29.”

You cock a brow at that but continue on. “What are you?”

“You’ve done enough research to know that.”

You sigh again, heavier this time. “Please just answer.”

“A werewolf.”

That’s a new term you haven’t really heard before. You saw it once or twice while researching; it seems to be a modern word to describe what Kylo is. Older reports preferred to use the more common, scientific term of Lycan. “Okay, and where are you from?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

You lift your head, confusion on your face. “What?”

“I don’t know where I’m from.” Kylo says. “I was taken from my home as a child, because of what I am. The man that took me wanted me for my strength and potential to bring him money.” You can see how his eyes glisten with pain from the memory. Perhaps that’s what all his scars are from.

“Who is he?” You ask.

“It doesn’t matter. I killed him.” He says it so bluntly, as if there’s nothing to it. Like he didn’t just admit to a heinous crime that would no doubt get him killed in no time. “Although, he did exactly what you all do. He studied me, ran his tests. Kept me in a cage.”

You shrink under the accusatory tone even though you know none of this is your fault. You clear your throat. “What happened after you… killed him?”

“I had nowhere to go. I stayed as a wolf, it was easier. It’s been years.” He says, right ear twitching against his hair. You catch on to his words, on to anything he gives you that’ll improve your research. So he can turn into a wolf… that must’ve been what that first report you got of him had been based on. “I wanted to go back home, but that man affected my memory. He took me halfway across the continent. But it’s coming back now, I can feel it. I know where I need to go.”

“You do? Could you explain that?” You ask, a little too eager.

“It’s not something to explain.” He snaps. “It’s just… something leading me in the right direction. I was close before I got caught here.” He’s angry about that, you can see it in the way his brows furrow and his fists clench. You understand him, if you’d been within reach of your goal after years of work and then it got ruined, you’d be pissed.

Then he looks to you. “That’s why I need your help.”

“Wh- me?” You splutter. “How would I help you?”

“You’re smarter than that.” Kylo taunts. He’s right, you know exactly what he means, but you don’t like it. “Get me out of here. Help me get home. You know you don’t want to see me in here.”

“Quit assuming you know me. I’m here to do a job, that’s all this is. I can’t give up my entire livelihood just to break you out.” You say roughly.

He leans towards you, big black tail swishing against the floor behind him. “But you feel it, don’t you? Something deeper.”

For a moment, you don’t know what he means. But then something inside you seems to click, and you recall that first day you saw him. When you’d met his eyes, and you’d felt that tug. A tug that came from some higher plane, a thing you had no control over. It made you feel right when you were near him but then felt wrong when you weren’t, like when you’d gone home and a new type of loneliness you’d never experienced before had consumed you. You’d chalked it up to just stress from the new assignment, and that’s exactly what you’ll do now. You have no idea what it could mean and despite your job, you don’t have an interest in finding out. Kylo smirks at you knowingly and you realize you haven’t dealt with someone this aggravating for a while.

You press stop on the voice note. “I think that’s about it for today.” You shove all your things in your bag, being less than gentle. You stand as the lights begin to dim for the evening, turning towards the door.

“Wait.”

You stop, even though it’s probably against your best interest. You twist your head to look back at Kylo.

“Don’t send them that recording.” He says. He doesn’t explain himself, he feels like he doesn’t have to. He knows you’ll understand. You hate that he’s right. You hesitate for a second, debating on whether to give him a response. You can’t promise you’ll do anything—this project would benefit heavily from it being known that he can speak and communicate but… it’ll probably only bring him harm. You want to slam your head into something. If you knew this damn assignment would cause so many conflicting ideas and emotions, you wouldn’t have accepted it. You rip open the door without saying a word to him.

When you get home that night, in the dimness of your living room with only the light of your laptop, you delete the voice note.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Tags (comment if you’d like to be tagged next time!); @bullet-clubs-bitch @hazydespair

⇦ Part 1

Part 3 ⇨

#was trying to remember when I did blood testing in my class 💀#fighting for my LIFE #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo #kylo fanfic #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo x you #werewolf kylo ren #werewolf au #werewolf fanfic #werewolf x reader

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emi-the-gremlin · 6 months ago

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Okay so I am very late with this but in my defense no one told me this was happening and since I’m currently busy because I just started at a new school I do not have a lot of time on my hands in general unfortunately

Anyway

Decided to do day 2’s prompt

Myths/legends: I saw some other folks take from their countries own folklore and I thought that’s pretty cool but since I couldn’t really think of any folklore that would fit them I took a slightly different angle one of our most popular literatures is H. C. Andersons little mermaid so I went with merfolk

mermaids have been used as allegories for centuries now be it race gender or sexuality but the little mermaid specifically is (largely theorized to be) a queer allegory based on Andersons own unrequited affections and although I’ve seen a lot of people make Charles the mermaid in these type of aus (which btw is absolutely correct) since this is very much a story of longing I found it fitting to go with Edwin this time around because that’s one of his core themes throughout season 1

Hopefully (but it’s not likely) I can do a couple more if I find the time

#dead boy detectives #payneland #paineland #charles rowland #edwin payne #edwin paine #payneland week #Emi’s scribbles #dbda fanart

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hwsasiaweek · 1 year ago

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HWS Asia Week will be hosted from July 8th-17th of 2024!!

Three prompts per day:

1) nations from Asia

2) a general theme

3) a quote

You can choose which prompt or prompts you want to create content for; you can stick with one country (canon or OC) throughout the whole week or switch between multiple; it's all up to you!

Any form of content is accepted, including but not limited to: fanfiction, fanart, AUs,headcanons, aesthetics, etc.

Prompts:

Day 1 (Jul 8): Mongolia || Culture/Traditions || "Look how we bleed from all this wanting"

Day 2 (Jul 9): Taiwan, Indonesia, Uzbekistan|| Food || "A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor"

Day 3 (Jul 10): India + China || History || "Come, dance with me"

Day 4 (Jul 11): South Korea, Laos, Bahrain || Fantasy || "I ache in a language so old that even the earth no longer remembers"

Day 5 (Jul 12): Persia/Iran || Folklore/Legends/Myths || "Having the same enemy does not make us friends"

Day 6 (Jul 13): Hong Kong || Daily Life || "No one wearing a crown comes in the name of peace"

Day 7 (Jul 14): Malaysia + Indonesia || Flowers/Garden || “War is sweet to those who have never fought”

Day 8 (Jul 15): Macau, Philippines, Japan || Story/Storytelling || "The relief of giving into destruction"

Day 9 (Jul 16): Kazakhstan, Lebanon, Singapore|| Tea/Coffee || "I promise spring is coming / and with it, brand new leaves"

Day 10 (Jul 17): Free Day

Rules:

Rule Post

Follow this account

No NS//FW

Tag your content with #hwsasiaweek2024 and @ this account please!

Ships and content with other non-Asian nations are allowed, but please try to give equal weight to the Asian character in the ship,since this is an event celebrating the Hetalia Asians.

Gore/blood/dark topics allowed; they will be tagged with #tw _

Don't be a clown and make racist content

Use common sense and nuance when touching upon sensitive political subjects.

FAQ

Have Fun!

@hetaliahappenings @heta-on-the-books @hetaliacalendar

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animalsalvationassociation · 1 month ago

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Calling all Octo-Agents!

Yes! You! Please read till the end, and if you don't have the patience/energy for it rn, come back later! It'll be worth it I promise!

So the holidays are now pretty much over, (except for New Years ofc, but I digress.) meaning I've been looking for new ways to improve my Au. You see, it's come to my attention that I'm not as organized or as thorough as I thought I was.

I've created a lot of lore/characters for this Au, but not very many people really know what's going on anymore. Even I get lost, and it's been a little frustrating ngl. So, seeing as this blog is officially over a year old, I think it's time to "fix" my mistakes and take a new approach.

Ya'll might've noticed that I've been slowing down on content. I haven't been spending as much time on my art, meaning the quality (well I wouldn't say it's gotten worse) hasn't been as strong as some others I've created in the past.

(Don't get me wrong, I'm not making a resolution for the new year, that's dumb and we all know those never last.)

So here's what I'm promising instead since this clearly is the only thing I'm allowed to work on at the moment (not saying I don't have other projects, but if I want to actually publish this story at any point I'm going to have to spend as much time as I can on it, meaning I have to make some sacrifices - RIP my FNaf's & Undertale fanfics)

1. Full Character Redesigns

Taking all the core characters (The Octonauts / Octo-Agents / Y.N. & Fae / The A.S.A. / C.L.A.D.E. / etc.) and giving them a full reference sheet with details, headcanons, and an updated design.

Creating family/relationship tree for those characters (parents/siblings/love interests/etc.)

Family/Team “Photos”

Crossovers (I will still be doing multiple crossovers and soon they will get their very own redesigns!)

2. Updating the Master Post

3. Updating the “Pinned” Blog Post

For reference this will no longer be the current top post with all of the A.S.A. members, but a poster I will create for the fanfic to make the blog appear cleaner. (I won’t delete that post I’m just going to unpin it since the designs are old and not as useful as they used to be)

4. Asks will open January 1st, but I will not start answering any asks before February 1st!

That is so I can properly prepare and reevaluate the blog’s content so there is more information available to anyone who wants to ask questions for the Octonauts/Octo-Agents.

5. A.S.A.’s Rating & Genre (Fanfic)

This story will now be classified as Cryptozoological Fiction, with partial Horror / Science Fiction & will be drawing straight from Folklore & Mythology. (For “Sci-Fi” don’t think space/aliens, think Cryptids in a scientifically evolved world.)

The rating is now PG-14

(Poll Results)

6. Fanfiction

This is really for the fanfiction itself. I’m still trying to figure out how to go about this. As of this current moment I have 1, maybe 2 chapters written out, and soon I hope to have more. However I am my own editor/beta reader, so it might not be as polished as I’d like to be, but I’m just going to have to accept that.

Unless I can find a bunch of people who can do that stuff for me, for fun, that’s the state this story will be in. You’ll have to have patient with me, I’m using all the tools I have at my disposal (Grammarly, Google Docs, LibreOffice, etc.) but I am a human with heavy ADHD and reading/comprehension disabilities, so please be kind.

7. Weekly Posts

I will still be posting weekly, just not on Tuesdays. I realize it’s only been stressing me out to post on that day every week and so I’ve been abusing my attempts at a proper sleep schedule because of it. I still work a very busy retail job and will have to get a secondary job sometime soon, so unfortunately you’ll just have to add me to your notifications if you want to know when I’ve posted.

8. The Future . . .

This one is for anyone who’s gotten this far. I want you to know that the Octonauts still mean so much to me. Even if we aren’t getting updates anymore, the community is still somewhat alive even if it's only a few of us. Maybe one day we’ll get our kickstart, but for now I will continue making content until I’m satisfied with the story and it’s ending. If I stray every now and then, that’s just because I have the attention span of a goldfish with a million hobbies and fandoms that constantly need attention. I love you guys and I promise to do my very best to make my mark on the internet, even if it’s for a silly kids show about talking/walking/nerdy animals who save fish every day.

9. January's Posting Plan

Week 1: Finishing the Octonaut's Headcanons

Week 2: My Christmas gift to the Community

Week 3: Silly Y/N & Fae Content (No it doesn't make sense, deal with it)

Week 4: Screencap Redraw

Week 5: Starting Redesigns

If you made it this far . . . here's a cookie and the secret formula.

🍪🍾

#octonauts #octonauts story #octonauts the asa

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rewrittenwrongs · 4 months ago

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It’s the first of October in my timezone, which means it’s time to post my first Whumptober fill! I chose the prompt Panic Attack.

Heavily inspired by the lovely @brucewaynehater101’s Wingless Wing AU

Read on Ao3 (registered users only) | Whumptober masterpost | part 1 | part 2 coming soon

TW: past wing removal, mentions of anti-hybrid sentiments, mentions of trafficking/selling body parts, panic attack, accidental self harm (biting lip until it bleeds to ground himself), and a very very non detailed instance of vomiting

Dragons were the rarest hybrids out there.

They were some of the most well known, too. Everyone’s heard of dragon hybrids. They’re like the role models of the hybrid world, the knights and princesses children look up to, or the monsters under your bed if you’re not a hybrid. Usually, they’re treated much the same as true dragons: fictional. Mythical. Imaginary.

Now, if you were especially interested in them, or studied genetics or hybrid physiology, you’d know they were real. You’d know they often had huge wingspans comparable to the largest of seabird hybrids, and airborne agility almost on par with hummingbirds. You’d know they were rumoured to command the wind itself when they flew. You’d know their scales were tough and beautiful and practically immune to fire. You’d know lead was one of the only things capable of burning them while they lived. You’d know full blooded dragon hybrids could have long, magnificent tails and dramatic horns, claws instead of fingers or toes, slitted pupils that could see in the dark and scales tougher than wood.

You’d also know that, while they did exist once, they were hunted for their wings and scales and horns. They haven’t been officially pronounced extinct but neither has any other long-gone hybrid species. Anyone with passing knowledge of them knew they weren’t around anymore, outside the odd museum exhibit or old photo. Any rumour of still living dragon hybrids today was just that: a rumour. Though, the general populace—just the hybrids, really—loved to spread stories of them going into hiding. Using magic to cloak themselves until the day they could walk safely among humans.

Jason knows a lot about dragon hybrids. Much more than your average hybrid, and probably more than even a hybrid physiologist. He had a hyperfixation on them for a time, even before that pair of dragon wings started being passed around Gotham’s underworld.

He knows all the myths and folklore about dragon hybrids being born with an affinity for magic, about them using their skills to hide themselves from poachers and traffickers, building enchanted necklaces or broaches that disguised them as regular humans. He’s heard the legends of them being born of fire itself, being immune to temperatures that would render metal liquid, even being able to summon or control it. About burning their dead ones to return them to the ashes and embers they were once created from, as heat only blackened their scales after death. He’s heard the tales of dragons being kidnapped as children for their wings, because of a very special property of theirs: even after their wings were cut off they stayed magically connected to the hybrid, and grew along with them. It was much easier to kidnap and mutilate children than it was adults, and then they could use the hybrids as slaves, since they had to stay alive anyway for the wings to grow.

A lot of the myths—folklore, children’s tales, nursery rhymes—were about a dragon losing their wings and getting them back. A common theme among legends was the tie between wings and hybrid: a tie that, if the wings weren’t skinned or carved away for trophies, allowed the hybrid to reconnect them.

Jason tried not to get his hopes up, but he had to admit, once he finally tracked down those wings the other crime lords kept playing hot potato with… it would be nice if he could track down their owner and return them. Even if all there was to be done was bury or burn the things and give the hybrid a proper funeral.

Now, with the childhood hyperfixation and the elusive pair of trafficked wings that have been evading him for as long as he’s been Red Hood, he has a lot of respect for dragon hybrids. Combine that with all the hybrid trafficking rings he’s taken down, both as Red Hood and as Robin, you can see why he’s pissed about Tim’s new gliders.

Ever since Damian became Robin, since Tim swapped suits and changed title, he’d altered his glider to look like dragon wings. Dragon. Wings.

Now, it’s been almost five months since Tim came back and handed over all the info about Bruce’s whereabouts and proved he was alive, about four since they actually got Bruce back. There’s still some tension between everyone, but things have settled down a lot. But. Quite a bit of the tension could be blamed on those damn. Gliders.

Jason was actually glad when he saw them get set on fire a few nights ago; huge holes burning into the material and making Tim abandon it before the engine caught fire too. He tried a little to convince Tim to swap back to a design more feather-like but he was adamant. Jason could understand wanting to imitate the others, it must be tough being one of the only non-hybrids in the family, but WHY did he have to imitate dragon hybrids of all things? Because they’re cool? It’s insensitive and in bad taste!

That said, Jason had been biting his tongue about the issue. But tonight, when he swung by the cave, he came across Tim in the workshop, tinkering around and probably trying to improve his newest glider model. It’s the first time Jason’s seen the prototype. He can’t keep quiet anymore.

“You’re seriously sticking with dragon wings?”

Tim didn’t look up, didn’t turn to face him. “Yes. I’ve told you, I’m not changing my mind.”

Right. Jason’s definition of ‘biting his tongue’ was a little different than most’s. “You do know they’re real hybrids, right?”

“Yes, you’ve infodumped to me about them before.” He kept serenely fitting the scale-patterned material in place, connecting panels and hiding wire mesh and metal supports. “It’s no more cultural appropriation than my previous gliders were.”

Jason bristled. Tim has had some form of glider since he first debuted as Robin, and they were all styled after bird wings, designed to look like feathers. Like the Robins before him. Not the most feared, segregated, hunted, and literally extinct hybrid species in existence!

Jason had to take several deep breaths to stop himself from shooting the things then and there. Tim had already put together most of the emergency engine, the jetpack or ‘batpack’ as it was jokingly called: shooting it would just cause a huge explosion and an even huger mess. Not to mention Tim was in the way, he didn’t want to resort to physical injury just yet. “Clearly you weren’t listening when I told you about how often they were trafficked and poached for their wings.”

Tim huffed, still refusing to even turn his head. “I heard you. I just don’t see a problem with this.”

“So you don’t have a problem with the severed pair of dragon wing currently being traded through Gotham’s underworld?”

Tim froze.

There’s the reaction he’s been looking for. A bit of Jason’s vindictive glee seeped into his voice. “You didn’t know? There have been rumours about them since I was putting heads in duffel bags. Even the Joker knows about them. The hybrid is almost certainly dead by now. And still, their wings are being toted from warehouse to warehouse, crate to crate, one hand to someone else’s. It’s only a matter of time before someone keeps them for good and turns them into a pair of cloaks and an interesting taxidermy.”

“What do they look like?”

Jason blinked. Then his rage swelled so fiercely he could barely see or breathe. He wanted to know what they looked like!? WHY!? So he could take notes? Make his glider more realistic? WHAT THE FUCK.

Jason very nearly exploded about it, but then he caught sight of something that made him pause for a split second: Tim’s hands, curled into fists against his work, shaking slightly. Then as he paused he caught sight of something else: the slope of his shoulders, hunched, defensive, quivering. He was leaning forward like his knees would collapse any second.

Jason hesitated. Well, maybe... maybe if he answered he would learn why Tim reacted like that, or at least learn enough to infer. If it was so he could make his glider more realistic he could just shoot him.

He’s only seen them once, for a few seconds, but they were beautiful—and heartbreaking—enough he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget them. “They’re red. Crimson. Big, but built like they’re kind of small. Curved, streamline, built for speed and agility. They’re almost iridescent, the right lighting makes them shine gold.”

Tim shuddered, violently, then collapsed, vomiting onto the stone floor.

“Woah—Tim—“ Jason darted forward, dropping into a kneel beside Tim with a flair of his wings. He reached for his shoulders automatically but Tim jerked away like he’d stabbed him, letting out a choked exclamation. Jason pulled back and let his wings settle over him instead, shielding but not touching. “Tim?”

He hesitated as Tim scrambled to his feet, shoulders hunched and arms jerky like his back was on fire. His breathing was loud and uneven and there was a tear on his cheek. His eyes were red and wild, darting around like he was searching desperately for an escape, like he didn’t know where he was. Jason got back up on his knees in preparation for following. He kept a wing hovering over Tim’s back. “Tim? What—“

Tim stumbled into an uneven run, arms more jerking than swinging, footfalls uneven like he was accounting for weight that wasn’t there. Jason hoped he was putting things together wrong.

Jason followed a few steps behind as Tim ran for the exit, and caught him when he stumbled and collapsed in the doorway. He was muttering over and over, “Please don’t please stop please stop stop stop,” between horrible, gut deep sobs. He fought against Jason for a moment but stopped quickly, leaning as far away as he could get, but not putting up a physical fight. He was hyperventilating.

Jason kept his hold secure, thinking back to the last—and until now, only—time he’d seen Tim having a panic attack: the sight of his hands in his hair and on his shoulders and blood running through his fingers and down his chin. Right now his arms were mostly pinned at his sides, hands struggling to curl around Jason’s arms, still protected by his jacket and armour. Jason kept his grip away from his shoulders and upper back in case his hunch was right. He curled one wing around Tim’s front, gently, just enough to brush against his face and legs. “Hey, hey hey, it’s okay, no one’s hurting you.”

Tim whined and tossed his head, fingers scrabbling against Jason’s forearms. Tears dripped from his chin. Blood was beading on his lip.

Jason bit off a swear. He’d forgotten he was still wearing his mask, the voice modulator always bothered Tim when he was already on edge. He adjusted his grip so he had one arm around Tim’s waist, still pinning an arm, and one wing caving him in, and used his spare hand to remove his metal mask.

Tim’s struggle renewed when he sensed apparent weakness, shoving and kicking, but he was off balance and uncoordinated and all he achieved was making Jason’s wing curl tighter around him. The sensation seemed to throw him off. Confusion bled into the features that weren’t twisted with pain and fear.

“Tim, can you try to breathe for me?” Jason said. He placed his mask on the ground and used his other wing to slide it away quietly.

Tim sobbed, chest heaving, shoulders quivering. “Stop. It hurts.”

Jason’s heart ached. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Tim’s entire frame jerked with the force of his next sob. Tears splashed to the ground like little shards of shattering glass. They were joined by a droplet of blood.

Jason made a cooing noise low in his throat, humming in a way that never came quite as naturally as it did before his death. He tried to imitate Dick’s comforting calls. Tim pressed his face into the feathers of Jason’s wing, hands like iron bands around his arm.

Jason repeated the noise, tentatively reaching out and stroking a hand through his hair. It got longer while he was searching for Bruce, and he hasn’t cut it yet.

Tim stayed tense as a taut wire, but didn’t curl into or away from the feeling. Jason couldn’t tell if his breathing was getting faster or slower. “It hurts,” he sobbed, “it hurts it hurts it hurts make it stop, please make it stop.”

Jason scrambled for what to do. He kept stroking through Tim’s hair. Maybe—his mother used to…

Jason cleared his throat and quietly began to sing.

His voice has never been quite as smooth and full as it was before his death. It’s not rough or unpleasant, necessarily, but he became unnervingly aware of the difference as he began singing the same song Catherine sang when he was too scared to sleep. There was a faint shakiness, a fragility that caused pain if he tried to yell, not to mention he couldn’t hit half the notes. He kept it quiet, low, a poor rendition of a dead woman’s lullaby.

Tim kept muttering, kept begging and sobbing, but the faintest hints of awareness were gradually starting to fill his eyes.

His arms squeezed Jason’s forearm around his middle.

His feet shifted against the ground like he was searching for purchase.

He pressed his head, lightly, into Jason’s feathers with a whine.

A shudder wracked through him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” His voice was slurred and uneven.

Finally, he stopped speaking to a threat that wasn’t there.

With another violent shiver, he began looking around a little. Staring at the wrist of Jason’s wing. At the arm pinning him in place, then at the body he was half slumped onto.

Tim whined loudly, longingly, so eerily similar to calls for safety-protection-flock that it made Jason’s hindbrain go crazy. Tim began shifting against his brother’s hold, in a different way than before. Jason kept an arm and wing around him but let him move, a little wary. Tim twisted around until he and Jason were front to front, at which point he collapsed onto him with a low mournful sound, head beneath his chin and arms curling loosely around him.

Jason wrapped both arms tighter around him, keeping them on his lower back, and shifted them both until Jason was lying on his back with Tim half on top of him, tented beneath his wings. He kept singing the entire time, now on his third rendition of the lullaby. Tim had stopped mumbling. He hadn’t stopped shaking or crying. His breaths were better but still shaky and erratic.

Jason continued carding through his hair. He seemed to like that. And the singing, Jason kept that up too, even though his throat was beginning to tickle.

After a few minutes he noticed the tears had stopped and his breath had evened out. Tim was asleep. Jason didn’t blame him, panic attacks were exhausting. He carried him through the elevator and up the stairs to his room, set Tim in his bed and himself in a beanbag, despite all his instincts screaming about flock and physical contact and protection and perceived abandonment. He distracted himself with Tim’s copy of The Little Prince. In the original French, nice.

Tim awoke seventy minutes later. Not that Jason was counting. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, sporting an impressive bedhead. He licked his lips. His eyes landed on Jason and shifted rapidly from confusion to understanding to fear. He curled the blanket into his fist.

“You have some explaining to do.”

Tim huffed as if he thought this really was all blown out of proportion. As if. “Not here. My Nest.”

Ah, the Nest, Tim’s seperate base of operations and regular hang-out spot for Young Justice, not to be confused with the nest, an elevated platform of ropes and mattresses and blankets inside the Batcave. Not confusing at all.

Jason actually felt proud for a split second upon realising he was welcome in Tim’s safe space, an honour none of the other bats held, before remembering no, actually, this wasn’t trust this was fear. Fear caused by him, however accidental.

“Let’s go, then.”

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deathnguts · 6 months ago

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Selkie! Regulus and Fisherman! Remus... they live rent free in my head. Like Regulus just has such selkie beauty, yknow? Otherworldly and something you’ll never truly, fully tame or own despite wedding but still delicate and perfect. And Remus is just so creaky little village folklore protagonist it’s honestly hilarious, yes this man lives in a routine until he’s gray and literally can’t anymore with his air of mystery and calloused hands but distinctly kind eyes. Match made in stories told under the stars around campfires if you ask me.

Ok so I think this au could be imagined two ways. 1, Remus meets human regulus first and 2, Remus meets seal regulus first. Both go differently but are both very fun.

So number 1 would be classic tumblr fantasy. Regulus is a beautiful stranger who keeps to himself and showed up almost out of thin air in the misty fishing town in Wales that Remus lives in. Regulus is so new and beautiful he can’t help but catch the eye. I imagine Remus sees him for the first time when Regulus is out on the beach, just watching the water, and Remus is coming down the dock to go home for the night. It’s late and quiet besides the waves of the sea, dark besides the light of the moon, and this stranger could almost be mistaken for a ghost with how the pale rays bounce off their skin and perfectly white coat they have draped just past their shoulders. He leaves them be because it’s late and he’s not creepy. He sees them again at the only local bookstore, sat at one of the only desks in the small shop with a few books piled next to them and their manicured fingers turning the aged pages of the book they had open. Again, Remus just can’t look away. Their curls are loose around their face and they keep having to tuck them behind their ears, which are pierced with shiny pearl earrings. Their eyes are intently focused and strikingly pale blue and Remus only realizes he’s been staring when he realizes those eyes are on him now. He flushes and stumbles over his words to try and apologize but the stranger doesn’t seem perturbed, they say it’s alright and they were leaving anyway. Remus wonders how long he’d really been just watching them because they seem farther in their book when they close it and they knock the coat he remembers them wearing the other night off the back of the chair they were sitting on when they reach for a bookmark. Remus picks it up for them, since it’s the least he can do, and hands it back while they gather their things. Except they’ve stopped gathering their things because now their entrancing eyes are wide and staring at him with blown pupils and awe. Remus doesn’t understand and is still embarrassed from before, so he gets them to take their coat and rushes off. He meets them again when they appear at his door a few days later with a ring and a fierce blush as they explain that it’s unfair to only be married the human way, and oh dear god what has Remus gotten himself into.

Very silly, much shenanigans, very cute I think.

The second is more whimsical. Remus is out late fishing, maybe fell asleep earlier that night out of sheer exhaustion from work or other and is now waking up far past his usual docking time. He’s groggy and delirious when he sees a glowing white light in the water. He thinks he’s dreaming when it’s head pokes out and it’s a seal. Remus doesn’t know if seals should be in this water but he does know they shouldn’t be glowing. The seal coos and swims for a little before disappearing and leaving Remus wondering if it was even real as he sails back to the docks. But he’s assured it was when he sees the seal more and more over the next few months. He becomes more and more familiar with it, more delighted to see it. He talks to his mother about it one day and she immediately tells him he’s seen a selkie, because she’s superstitious like that, and he doesn’t really believe her at first but it becomes undeniable as the weeks turn to months and the seal gets more and more friendly with him. Eventually culminating in Remus probably hearing his selkie’s song from human tongue for the first time, and seeing that form to boot.

Man falling for a folktale and a folktale falling for a man. Very fairytale, very wondrous, very ‘true loves kiss’ vibe.

But also I lied and there’s a third option that’s sort of an off shoot of two. Werewolf Remus meets seal regulus first.

Remus spends his moons as a werewolf by the water, near rocky caves where no one dare venture at night. The waves calm the monster and he doesn’t out anyone in danger out here. He’s used to coming here with not much to remember the next morning but then one day he remembers almost a dreamlike memory of his wolf padding down to the water and meeting a glowing... fish? Hm, strange. But Moony remembers it perfectly every moon and starts to view the magical seal as its friend, chasing it along the shoreline and bumping snouts with it and stuff. As moony grows fond of the ‘fish’ Remus remembers its existence more, and since he’s literally a werewolf in this idea he stomaches the idea of selkies pretty easily and realizes he’s probably visiting a selkie every moon and goes back on nights it’s not the moon to maybe see it with human eyes. The seal is wary of the human form since it doesn’t know if only the wolf means no harm but quickly learns Remus is nice too and reveals itself as human too rather easily. The human forms connect just as quickly as the animal forms did and their love is so much more intimate since they understand like literally no one else what it’s like to be an adjacent human with animal needs and such.

Literally their most primal halves meeting and falling first, folklore on folklore romance, ‘lets be otherworldly together’ type of vibe. Immaculate, adorable, also I just like including Moony in moonwater fics.

#just kinda vomited words but when do I not #Moonwater is so cryptidxcryptid core #literally any AU where Remus is still a werewolf and regulus is any form of half human creature as well gets me eveyrti #it just embodies their dynamic very well to me #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #remus lupin #moonseeker #moonwater #romantic moonwater #marauders au

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cuphead-dragons · 4 months ago

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OMGOMGOMGOMG GIVE FUN FACTS ABOUT EVERYONES DRAGON COUNTERPART PLEEEEASE

First I wanted to set some things up

Dragons are pack and social animals in my au, having similar family groups to that of a wolf pack, called a flock instead. (No, there is not 'alpha' there's a breeding pair, subordinates (older offspring) older hatchlings and young/newborn hatchlings) So because of this, seeing a lone dragon isn't very common unless they're a dispersal looking for a mate. Even injured members are cared for the best the others can do, they won't kick them from the "flock" While it's common to see dragons living close together in more human like communities minus buildings and such and more so socially, they still get incredibly territorial and will fight eachother over food sources. One flock of 4-5 dragons can eat about 4 deer in a day for example. (if there's two parents each of them will eat 1, and if there's 3 hatchlings, shared between them they'll eat 2.)

Dragons mate for life, not searching for a new mate when theirs dies, so there's something wrong when it's a one off to pass on genes, or if it's alone in general. Likely got chased away from any chances of being in a flock.

Another thing, flocks will take in other dragons. Especially if they're already familiar with them, such as family that's too old to survive on its own, or a parent with a hatchling that lost their partner. So again, if a dragon is alone, they're likely a menace.

Cuphead and Mugman

Obviously the main focus of this blog. The boys are juveniles and very destructive because of that. Definitely lets... others know where their flock is. They get into places and mess with creatures they shouldn't.

Elder Kettle

Lives in the same territory as his grandchildren. He watches over them as cautiously as he can when their parents are on a hunt or expanding territory. Though, he is old, and can only keep up for so long.

Morningstar (The Devil)

Unlike the rest, he is indeed a unicorn, particularly a nightmare unicorn. Unicorns in many a folklore are enemies to dragons, and that's true in my stories. He's not in a constant state of flame like in some tales, and instead only becomes charged when angry or actively trying to cause harm. No magic comes from his horn, but it's still a sharp and deadly weapon. Has mass hatred for unicorns for casting him away to the dragons for being dangerous, and dragons casting him away for being a unicorn. He finds himself alone, taunting with those who come near to make them miserable.

Dice

A dragon gone rogue with the enemy, he used to be close to Cuphead and Mugman's parents. Until some time before they were born and Dice ended up being suspicious, and was chased away near where Morningstar lives. So, he ended up being around the one he was conspiring with anyways.

Chalice

Still a juvenile, but younger than the brothers, she gets them into plenty more problems. (Orphan too)

Tea and Joe

The loving and protective parents of Cuphead and Mugman, they worry about the things their oldest hatchlings get into. Nothing bad will become of that, right?

...

There ARE other characters, but these are the mains. If you're curious about any others, feel free to ask! ^^ (I'll also be making a seperate post for other ocs soon)

(the bgs represent their territories btw)

Hiatus

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oshamirweek · 6 months ago

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Further details on Oshamir Week Prompts

Here are some further explanations on what each of the daily prompts entails (full text below the cut). If you have any other questions feel free to ask and we'll do our best to answer.

Day 1 - Canonverse AU: Works for this prompt should take place in the Star Wars universe but change something (or many things) from The Acolyte canon. Some exmaples include: Sith!Osha and Jedi!Qimir; neither were Jedi; Qimir meets Osha first; Osha never leaves the coven; etc. This includes all things considered canon divergence.

Day 2 - Legends & Lore: Works for this prompt can draw inspiration from myths, folklore, and fairytales from any culture or media! This includes re-imaginings of Greek mythology, Filipino folklore, and classic fairytales like Beauty and the Beast. This is probably a theme where artists and editors can really go wild. We can't wait to see what you'll create!

Day 3 - Bonds: Works for this prompt should include concepts such as arranged marriage, soulmates, reincarnation, prophecies, the red string of fate, etc. Force dyads can also fall into this category. Another name for this theme could be 'Fate/Destiny'.

Day 4 - Free Day: Free Day is for all fanworks that do not fall into any of the other six themes of Oshamir Week. Please do not post any works for 'The Dark Side', 'Fantasy', or 'Earth AU', on this day.

Day 5 - The Dark Side: Works for this day include the darker (and sadder) side of our emotions and favourite tropes. Jealousy, betrayal, possessiveness, as well as forbidden love, mind control, tragic endings: all fall under this category. Dubious consent, brainwashing, somnophilia, captor/captured, etc. should be posted on this day. Dead doves and dark subject matter are all permitted, just be sure to tag accordingly!

Day 6 - Fantasy: This theme includes any fantasy or supernatural elements such as magic, vampires, angels and demons, zombies, dragons, monsters, etc. Some elements may overlap with Legends & Lore, in which case you can post on either day. A Royalty AU with magical elements would post on this day. Works based on other fantasy media would also post on this day.

Day 7 - Earth AU: Any modern or historical AU will fall under this day's theme. This includes any works that place during the Victorian era, Regency era, Tang dynasty, Joseon era, etc., as well as university AU, coffee shop AU, athletes AU, and others. Works invoking dark academia or Gothic atmosphere would also fall under this day.

#rules #oshamir week #oshamir #osha x qimir #qimir #qimir x osha #the acolyte #star wars #osha aniseya #the stranger

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hux-and-gay · 6 months ago

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Kylux Short Shorts Fest 2024: Day 4: Otherworldly

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pls reblog I dont have Ao3 yet

Part: 1/ at least 2

BenArmie folklore AU

(I have a lot of WIPs for the shorts fest, I know it’s late now but I got busy so we’ll see how many I get to posting)

Ben ran through the woods as fast as his feet could carry him, mud splattered across his thighs, stumbling over roots, leaves getting tangled in his thick black hair. He felt so free, the cold air assaulting his cheeks and nose, turning them rosy pink. He could smell the river ahead so he dashed forward almost laughing with joy as he ran further and further from the den, never looking back. When he came to the river he stopped only to catch his breath before wading into the water, dancing, splashing his face, not caring his trousers were getting soaked.

“What are you doing?” A quiet voice asked from the opposite shore. Ben ceased his frolicking and turned to look at the creature, a small boy with a mess of ginger hair, pale skin dotted with freckles, a mask of a fox adorning his face.

“I’m wading, it’s fun. You should join me.” He held a hand out to the boy smiling eagerly. He had never met another boy his age, and he looked so sweet.

“My father told me not to speak to strangers.” He said, looking at Ben hesitantly fiddling with the small satchel slung over his shoulder. His baggy shorts and thin undershirt emphasized his small frame, and his arms and feet were wrapped in cloth bandages. Ben didn’t think any of them, it was probably easier to run with his feet protected.

“My name's Ben. There now I'm not a stranger.”

“I- I suppose you’re right.” He smiled, taking his hand and tenderly stepping into the water. He shivered. “It’s cold.”

“Yeah but it’s nice.” Ben said, spinning in a circle kicking up spray as he did so.

The fox boy flinched, backing away from the splash. “If you say so.”

“Oh look! Baby fish!” Ben exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the water rippling around their feet.

“Oh! They're biting my feet!” He bent down a little looking at them curiously lazily following their swimming patterns with one of his thin fingers.

“Hmm maybe I can catch some…” Ben said rubbing his chin and glancing around, being careful not to move his feet as not to disturb them. “but I don’t have a bucket. Oh well.” He glanced at the water again and something caught his eye. “Wait, look, by your foot, there’s a rock!”

The boy looked back up at him unimpressed. “There are a lot of rocks.”

Ben rolled his eyes, and pointed, which admittedly wasn’t very helpful. “The flat one.”

The boy picked up the flat rock and handed it to him. “What’s so special about it, it just looks like a rock.”

“It’s perfect for skipping.” He said rolling over the rock in his hand running his fingers across the wet surface. “Do you know how to skip rocks?”

“No.”

“Oh well I’ll show you. It’s just like…” He tossed the rock and it immediately sank with a loud plop as it hit the water. “oh- I Guess I’m not very good at skipping rocks.” He snorted, laughing to cover up his embarrassment.

The boy had been watching him intently. He picked up another flat rock from the water and tossed it,“Like this?” It made three skips before sinking.

“Oh wow! That was so cool!” Ben said patting him on the back aggressively and smiling with awe.

“Not really.”

“You aren’t very enthusiastic about anything, are you?” He chuckled.

“What’s the use of a rock if you’re not going to keep it?” The boy pointed out picking up another rock from the water and briefly examining it before dropping it back.

“Oh! I didn’t think of it that way.” He thought about what the boy had said. It was pretty witty, I mean why would you not want to keep a rock? Rocks are cool. He turned back to him smiling “That’s really smart actually, you’re really neat! You like collecting rocks?”

“Special ones” He said, shrugging. “Some say there's gold in this river, but I’ve only ever found pyrite.”

“Pyrite?”

“Fake gold…” He pulled out a shiny silver stone from his satchel and held it out to Ben. “Like this”

“It’s so pretty!” Ben beamed, taking it gently in his hands looking it over.

“You can have it, it’s useless.” The boy answered dryly.

“Who cares, it's pretty!” Ben pocketed the stone feeling very accomplished to be in the possession of such a pretty gem, whether it was worth something or not.

The boy looked down at his feet, maybe he was watching the fish again, they had returned after being scared away by Ben’s failed attempt at rock skipping. “My father says it’s no use to keep useless things unless you can use them for a purpose.” He stated meekly.

“Sounds wise.” Ben wasn’t entirely sure he understood what all that had meant, but it sounded very adult.

“No.”

“Oh-“

“Where’s your mask?” The boy asked Suddenly.

“In my bag.” Ben replied, patting the sack slung over his shoulder. He didn’t like wearing his mask, it made his face sweat, and it was harder to see.

“Isn’t that dangerous? Someone could steal it.” He said, peeking around Ben to see just a tiny bit of the mask peeking out of the sack.

“Don’t tell me you believe those stories about “whoever steals your mask owns your soul.” He laughed with his hands on his hips.

“Don’t you?” Ben could tell he was genuine.

Ben shook his head. “Of course not, parents just tell their kids that so that they get scared.” He insisted, patting the shorter boy on the head.

“I guess…” he stated hesitantly trying to fix his ruffled hair as if it hadn’t been needlessly tangled prior.

“So What are you doing out by the river on your own?” Ben asked, tilting his head.

“Foraging, for dinner.” The boy answered, holding open his satchel to show various mushrooms, roots, and plants inside.

“Oh right, Foxes are Omnivores.” Ben nodded remembering what little he knew of the other creatures.

“Yes. My father is hunting.” He nodded, closing his satchel and securing it on his hip again. “What about you?”

“I’m running away.” Ben admired nonchalantly.

“Running away? Won’t your parents be angry?” The boy questioned.

“It doesn’t matter if they never find me.” Ben added smirking.

“They won’t hunt you down?” The boy seemed confused.

“Maybe they’ll try. But I’m good at hiding.” He smiled confidently. “You could run away with me if you want.” Ben wouldn’t mind having another boy his age with him on his travels.

“I can’t.” The boy answered, scratching at his bandaged arm as he looked down again.

“That’s okay.” Though Ben had to admit he was slightly disappointed. They stood in silence for a few minutes before Ben asked. “You know you can take off your mask, right?”

“No thank you.” The boy answered simply.

“What? Afraid I’ll steal it?” Ben chuckled smirking.

“I’m just being careful.” The boy added, instinctively placing hand on the intracuite fox design. “I could easily steal yours if I wanted to.” He pointed out.

Ben smirked, “Oh alright then, try!” He pulled his mask out of his bag and held it behind his back.

The boy didn’t even wait a second he lunged at Ben who just barely side stepped away trying to stay facing the fox at all times. They chased each other in circles around the river splashing up water, running, jumping, growling, laughing, soon the sun was setting. Ben held the mask above his head. “You’ll never get it now!” He laughed, “You’re too small!” He added teasing. The boy grunted but instead of trying to jump for the mask like Ben had expected he dove for his legs, knocking him off his feet and tacking him, pinning him down in the water.

“Woah-“ Ben exclaimed breathlessly looking up at the boy who sat on his chest with amazement. He yanked the mask from Ben’s hand and held it in the air triumphantly. Then he brought it down to look at it and froze. Ben could see the goose bumps on his skin, but maybe it was just the water, they had been thoroughly soaked now.

“you’re a wolf.” He said quietly. Ben couldn’t read his expression mostly hidden behind the mask, side his mouth.

“Is that a problem?” Ben asked, confused.

“I suppose not.” He answered, feeling the mask over in his hands. “We’re both predators.”

“Yes but I’m the Apex predator!” Ben said proudly, sitting up in the water and flexing his muscles. “That means everything is Prey to me.” he snarled jokingly.

Suddenly the boy shoved the mask back into his arms. “Take it back!” He insisted urgently.

“What? But you stole it!” Ben exclaimed, confused.

“ I don’t want it! I don’t want your soul!” He seemed distressed.

Ben shook his head. “Those are just Myths, it’s okay they don’t mean anything.” He smiled trying to reassure him.

“But I don’t want it!” He reinforced.

“No, you stole it fair and square and you should keep it.” He retorted, sounding slightly annoyed that he wouldn't accept the prize he rightfully won. “I’m sure your father would be proud you stole a wolf's mask.” At the mention of his father the boy seemed to make a face Ben couldn’t quite read. He then dropped the mask into the water beside them, purposely.

“Well, I dropped it so that means you can steal it back!”

“You really care about this mask thing don’t you?” He asked rhetorically, shaking his head laughing.

“Well, if it is just myths as you say it is, then it wouldn’t make sense for me to keep it. Remember, I’m not supposed to keep useless things.”

Ben thought about it and nodded to himself before speaking. “I don’t think anything is completely useless.”

“maybe…” he looked like he would say something more but he was cut off by a voice calling from the distance.

“Armitage!”

The fox boy turned to the sound quickly and scrambled up to his feet. “I have to go” He rushed out of the water and grimaced at the sight of the wet stain on his satchel.

“wait!” Ben called out to him.

“yes?” The boy said, turning back.

“If you're not going to take off your mask, can you at least tell me what color your eyes are?” Ben asked curiously.

“green.”

And with that he turned back and walked into the trees disappearing from view.

I had been listening to Harpy Hare, by Yaelokre and I found a Picrew where you could make a Yaelokre OC I got bored so I decided to use the fox and wolf mask to make Hux and Kylo and from there I got the idea from this AU. It now has a whole bunch of lore, so we’ll see how far this takes me.

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