#hawk in the raven nest
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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ STREETS !
summary :: over 20 years of kenji’s life has been spent preserving the surviving scraps of innocence from his childhood. since then, he has been desperately searching for anything to fill the rotten void in his chest. when a news reporter gives him everything he could ever ask for by merely existing, kenji fears the man he may become without them near.
word count :: 8.3k
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!kenji, obsessive!kenji, g/n reader, blood/violence, alcohol, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, nausea/sickness, mentions of sex, use of ‘daddy’ honorific (but nothing sexually explicit occurs).
kenji sato's yandere traits are . . .
nurturing, heroic, & smothering
──── Over the course of his childhood, Kenji possessed the same desires every child had. The same wishes he’d whisper to planes he mistook for shooting stars.
He remembers climbing the blunt limbs of the oak tree in his backyard, pretending to be a hawk and searching the grass for any delicious rodents to sink his claws into. He can still feel the dirt under his fingernails when he’d get lost in the woods, pretending to be a tiger and barring his teeth to any predators after his kin. His only worries would consist of his next meal and where he'll settle in for the night, instead of the loneliness that resided back home.
However, as all stories go, Kenji grew up. As the years passed, though, the more constricting his grip became on this childhood dream. For every candle Kenji blew out, he only wished to be one with the great outdoors and rid himself of the expectations shoved upon him. As any child innocently wanted.
Now in adulthood, every candlelight snuffed out was a silent plea for peace. And so desperately, he is trying to protect the bird nest he intricately crafted. Woven with strands of his young, raven-black hair, chunks of sidewalk chalk, tufts of fur of his favorite stuffed animals — every forgotten, sacred piece of his childhood that still remains unscathed.
Year after year, the relentless abuse of the world and his responsibilities reign down on him, prying their violent, eager fingers into his beloved bird nest. Today, Kenji holds whatever scraps still remain close to his chest, nestling them beneath a canopy of creativity and everlasting hope. Protecting whatever bits of innocence and childlike luster that survive the weight of the world.
When he pictured his father’s role of Ultraman as a child, he imagined perseverance and bravery. Now with that title bequeathed to him, Kenji is anything but. He is clumsy, reckless, and negligent. The very last thing he wishes to do now is follow his father’s footsteps, but alas, he has been given no choice.
The Neronga waltzes through the city streets, exuding chaos with every step it strides. Tossing around chunks of buildings and fistfuls of debris. And begrudgingly, Kenji trails after it like a parent trying to tame their exuberant child.
A booming roar echoes from the beast's throat, angry bolts of electricity sparking from its horn. One swift punch to its jaw and the creature is out cold, leaving miles of destruction and disorder in its demise. With the threat neutralized, now comes the clean-up. He plucks citizens like they are tiny dolls and drops them to safety, who all thank him profusely for his aid. All except one.
Several bystanders crowd over a pile of rubble, waving their hands in an attempt at garnering the attention of Ultraman.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming, I’m coming…” Kenji mutters, stepping over passing cars as though they’re scatterings of colorful legos.
Piece by piece, he brushes past the lumps of bricks and metal. Disinterred from beneath the rubble is you. Hauntingly beautiful in your unconscious state.
“Oh…” He exhales breathlessly, chest rising and falling with rapid pants.
And there it is.
That canopy of creativity enveloping him; that bird nest suddenly overflowing with rebirth and life. Everything bursts in colors so prismatic, Kenji finds himself at an impossible balance between feeling weakly heavy and ecstatically light. Never has his soul been so completely satiated before, even in the brightest days of his childhood.
Love, that’s what this must be! Love, warmth, happiness — every inkling of light this world has to offer! How could he ever feel dejected again with this angel now in his-?
“Your heart rate is spiking.” That familiar, robotic voice interrupts. “You know what happens when Ultraman gets stressed.”
Like clockwork, his color timer blares in distressful hues of light blue and sharp red. Though, how could Kenji possibly pay attention to such trivial matters when he’s holding you in his hands? How could he pay attention to anything else?
Unfortunately for his sake, reality tears him away from his entranced state by brute forcd. A blinding flash of white permeates the street and in a blink, Kenji has returned to his normal self. He is back to being the notorious baseball player, worldwide heartthrob, and, most notably, smaller than his heroic alter ego.
When he shifts his gaze up, he finds you descending from the grasp he once held you in. Just like the fearless prince in every child's imagination, he scurries to catch you before you meet the unforgiving ground.
When his bare hands meet your skin, a gasp is yanked from his chest. His heart lurches, obtaining speeds he did not deem possible. Even sprinting from base to base did not garner this physical reaction out of him. You just feel so good against him, so perfect. Like the missing puzzle piece he’s been tearing apart the house looking for, now within its respected place. Bound to be cemented there forever – that sounds good to Kenji.
“Ken, they can see you!” Mina’s frantic voice interrupts once again.
When he pulls his vision from you, he finds a collage of people begin to surround the adjacent area. Their mere gaze threatens to jeopardize his identity once and forevermore.
“I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry, baby.” Kenji whispers into your ear.
Pressing a hard kiss to your cheekbone and relishing at the sensation of your skin beneath his lips, he reluctantly guides your limp body atop of the rubble. A few final caresses to your warm flesh and he is scurrying off into the night, completely inconsolable with these brand new emotions. New emotions he fears terribly, but has now clasped all coherent function in his body.
A single week had passed since the city's last Kaiju attack. These several days have proven to be nothing short of torturous for Kenji.
He has been rendered miserable after latching onto the light he’s been chasing for years, only to have it torn from his hands like candy from a baby. All because he’s been forced into a gig he never signed up for. Kenji has lost the love of his life and nothing can reprimand the grief it has left behind.
Through extensive, but fruitless effort, he has assigned Mina the task of dissecting all of Japan in search of you. With only a description of your face, coated with dirt and blood, there is very little the efficient robot can do. And once again, his desires are left to collect dust in the hollow corners of his soul.
Kenji now resides in his ‘man-cave’, as he so confidently calls it. “Healthy body, healthy mind.” Mina teases, displaying the assortment of coconut water stacked in the fridge. With a sigh of defeat, he takes a resentful sip and cringes at the horrid taste. His efforts to stuff his face with junk food like some heartbroken blonde in a chick-flick were rejected by Mina, as she is always pushing him to pursue greater health. Waving his white flag, he asks for Mina to just turn the TV on, searching for anything to mend the pain poisoning his heart.
“Ken. I wonder if you might consider taking a break.” Mina confesses.
He stares at the robot, searching her metal face for reasoning.
“From TV?”
“From finding that citizen.”
His face scrunches in disdain.
Quit you? Is she serious? How could he ever do that? Could he even survive such a predicament?
“Give up the one thing that puts a smile on my face?” Kenji questions. “Sorry. No. TV, please.”
Some sincere praise from saved citizens will surely fill the hole in his chest, he assumes. Help him in his efforts to protect that bird nest he cradles close.
The TV flickers to life and presents Channel 7 News, the place in which Kenji is featured most on. Seeing his most recent work with a bold “WOUNDED NERONGA AFTER ULTRAMAN EXIT” beneath the scene granted no surprise to him.
What does stun him into a defying silence is when the screen shifts and your face fills up the expanse. Bandage on your scalp and microphone in your hand, you inform viewers at home of the recent neutralized threat and your new status here on the channel.
“Well, this has been quite the warm welcome! I’ve just arrived here in Japan and I’ve already been greeted by the Neronga, evident in this bandage on my noggin’.”
The coconut water in his mouth spews out like a sprinkler when Kenji spits out the beverage. He chucks the open can across the room, ignoring the stain it will inevitably leave on his lavish carpets.
“That’s them! That’s them, that’s them, that’s them!” He exclaims to Mina.
Shuffling off the couch, he crawls over to the television as though his legs had completely given out beneath him. His hand caresses the surface where your cheek is.
“Sources tell us you were rescued by Ultraman himself!” A news anchor speaks.
“Yes, that is true. Unfortunately, I was a bit too woozy to thank him properly, but he did save my life. It is heroic acts like Ultraman that help keep this city alive.”
Unbeknownst to you, your words made a certain baseball player melt into putty. Hearing your praises, even when it is probably written on a script behind the camera, is nothing short of heavenly.
The anchors, third-wheeling between two soulmates, continue to blabber about other fresh events taking place in Japan. Pressing languid kisses to the fuzzy static, all Kenji can listen to, all he can focus on, is you. Every twitch of your brow, every curve of your skin, every stretch in your smile — it all has him mesmerized. Like a siren lulling a fisher into the sea, where he would dive straight into oblivion had it been you in the deep waves.
“This was Y/N L/N with Channel 7 News.”
Your name sits like honey on his tongue. Sickeningly sweet and absorbing of every word.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” He repeats your name like a magic spell, almost as if you’d manifest into existence had he whispered it enough.
“Signing off.”
The screen cuts and you vanish from the screen, overtaken by irritating advertisements. As though you were physically there with him, Kenji reaches for you. Desperate to bring you, his Y/N, back into his unwavering embrace.
Now, if there is anything renowned about Ken Sato, it is his charm, which also serves as his most powerful superpower. So, with enough flexes in the mirror to give himself a good ego boost, his “put a ring on Y/N’s finger” plan has now ensued in full effect.
The foundation of this plan resides in who you are, what intricacies and threadings course through such a marvelous creature. He demands Mina, stronger than he ever has before, to learn every little detail there is to know about you. There cannot be a stone left unturned. Kenji needs to know everything.
And every fragment of information she delivers to him binds his presumption furthermore: you two were made for each other. You’re like a page torn straight from an ancient fairytale. Crafted by God himself to hold his hand. He’s sunk his fingers into your background, your dreams, your hobbies, and he has nestled them all into his bird nest, entwined with the elements of himself. Bound to remain at one another’s side for eternity.
To enlighten you on these matters, however, Kenji has to find clarity through the whirlwind of emotions overpowering his senses. Then, he is positive he’ll be granted the ability to finally speak to you. However, the thought alone is enough to send a sun-hot shiver down his spine. He’ll need some thorough caresses to his ego before he can garner the confidence to merely stand in the same room as you.
It certainly does not help when everyday is spent battling the intense waves of euphoria, obsession, and of course, the suffocating guilt.
He left you behind. He abandoned the one thing that matters most to him and nothing can atone for this mistake. All because of Ultraman being most imperative, which Kenji had been force-fed to believe. Never again will he choose his occupation over you. Or anything, for that matter. You outweigh everything in terms of vital importance.
He begins these efforts with baby-steps. To start, he assigns Mina to leave expensive gifts upon your bed. Bouquets of flowers, lush clothing, rich chocolates, luxurious jewelry, action figures and plushies galore! All you have to do is look at something in the store for more than a picosecond and it’s wrapped in a bow for you the following day. You also cannot forget the amount of times you’ve arrived home to find your favorite meals freshly made on the kitchen table.
In your overworked, lethargic brain, you assume everything is left by your sweet, elderly landlord who misses her grandkids and needs a fresh face to spoil rotten. You just choose to ignore how the gifts are impossibly far out of her budget.
Miles away from you, Kenji is tearing himself apart as he assumes your lack of recognition to be rejection. He knew he should’ve purchased those shoes in a different color! What was he thinking buying you roses instead of carnations, God, how cliché can he be!?
He should’ve known you wouldn’t lend him your heart in return for his riches. You are not that foolish or shallow; you’re far more meticulous than the greedy pigs he’s so accustomed to feeding.
Kenji will not claim defeat yet, though. He is never one to waver so easily, especially when it is you that is the golden prize. If he cannot flaunt his riches, why not himself? The richest item of all? And if his money cannot slither himself into your heart, he is positive it can push him in the intended direction.
He’ll leave lumps of cash in the hands of massive corporations, all to cast his face wherever it can reach. On billboards, on buildings, on blimps — whatever place you may possibly be. Inevitably, you will have no choice but to see his gorgeous face and fall head over heels with him. The same way you so easily made him fall for you.
Unfortunately, though, there are not enough cans of coconut water or buckets of chicken drumsticks in the world to bring you to his doorstep, there to fall into his arms and promise forever at his side. Kenji has failed in claiming your heart as his, once again, but another failure is not nearly enough to get him to welcome defeat. Not when it is you he is promised, never when it is you.
From here, he’ll pursue grander efforts. You’ll be occupied in the studio, skimming through your lines while makeup artists poke and prod at you. A squeal of excitement will permeate through the expanse, shouting out for a man by the name of Ken Sato.
Loud rumbles echo through the city streets as Kenji revs the engine to his motorcycle, complemented by his famous hair-flip and heart-throbbing wink. And feverishly, he scrutinizes every face behind the window, desperate to see those gorgeous features smile and melt at the sight of him. Then, he can spring straight into your studio, gather you in his arms, and race off into the sunset with you. Just like the fairytale dream you deserve.
But alas, the universe refuses to give him such a privilege. You’re too engrossed with the tasks at hand, not some money-obsessed athlete who adorns the walls of teenage girls across Japan.
If he could hear your assumptions, he’d assure you are sorely mistaken. Kenji doesn’t want the accolades, the riches, the fame. He just wants you. The one who showed him what it truly meant to be wild; the one who showed him what it truly meant to be free. So desperately, he wants you to know this, as well. To feel it with every beat your heart passes, to feel it imprinted in your skin with every kiss and caress he leaves. He could lose everything, just not you. God, not you.
The man is speeding off with the pieces of his shattered heart before you can even process what had even occurred.
Kenji, once again, is met with another revelation. If it is not his name that can bring you into his embrace, then maybe it is his second self, the one you so wholeheartedly praise for his heroic acts.
Dressed in these ridiculous garbs, Ultraman leads danger towards your direction to “save” your life, all other innocent bystanders be damned. These efforts do not ever bridge on being dangerous. Merely a quick scare or two. And it definitely pays off, oh, does it pay off. Watching the fear in your eyes ease into relief at the sight of him never fails to get him numb with rapture.
“Fear not, citizen! Kenj- I mean, Ultraman will save you!”
The last occasion he ever abused his role consisted of an orchestrated car accident. Nearly caught in the crossfire, you ever-so-gracefully dove away from the scene and skidded your knee in the process. A thundering “NO! BABY!” rings through the air. So absorbed in adrenaline, you do not even process the volume of the sound.
What does grasp your attention is Ultraman taking you into his hand and lifting you far, far away from the ground. You ensnare yourself around his finger in response, clinging to him like a lifeline. Kenji melts from the action, as well as the underlying implications. You, relying on him, your silver-armored prince, for protection — that is everything he could ever wish for sat right in the palm of his hands.
“Shh… It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay… Daddy’s here…”
The words, shaky as they are, fall from his mouth like water through a cracked dam. It’s all just so easy, assuring you of his protection and comfort. The only way of preventing him from caring for you is to end his life. And Kenji has a lot of fight in him before he’ll allow himself to be separated from you.
You remain in his hands until an ambulance arrives. For the umpteenth time, he is forced to let go of you again. He cannot hide the perceptible agony it brings him to watch you rely on somebody else for aid.
One day, it will be him, he assures himself. One day.
In the meantime, your rejection continues to take a heavy toll on him. Kenji is now famished without you, emaciated and starved to the bone. In some feeble attempt at satiating this hunger, he’ll try to find these fragments of you in others. He will drink himself ill then bring a blurry face to bed, all to shake the memory of you out of his head. These efforts, once more, only result in failure.
This time around, a harrowing guilt rots in his chest. There is no one else like you, he should’ve seen it clear as day. Kenji was a fool to ever think there could be. Now, he has cheated on the one who matters most to him. And there is nothing to placate the anguish he’s tormented by.
This perceptible ruination does not go unnoticed by journalists, either, who do not waste the opportunity of an eye-grabbing headline. Articles about him flood the web, detailing his miserable failures out on the field. Crawling to base seconds too late, sprinting directly into walls, and receiving more strikes than anyone can count — Kenji and the famous Sato name are falling apart by the seams.
He examines the glistening trophies and signed baseball cards in another attempt at protecting his ego and its butchered remains. None of it is enough, though. None of this success is notable without you at his side.
In a fit of rage, he throws his Giants helmet against the basement floors, landing with a harsh thud.
“They reject me? Ken Sato!? Best baseball player of all time!? The one and only Ultraman!?”
His poor helmet is victim to his abuse, once more, as he leans all his might into a forceful kick.
“Nobody can resist Ken Sato!”
Another attempt at thrashing around in anger results in his knees buckling beneath him, sending his body to the cold ground. That was the final failure Kenji needed to break down into a sobbing fit. Head buried in his palms, he begs, pleads, for mercy.
“I… I’m doing my best, okay? God!”
His body curls into itself, like pathetic prey trying to protect itself.
“I buy you everything you want, I save your life again and again, I-”
Kenji cuts his tangent short by choking on a gagged cry. His fist clenches over his heart, overwhelmed from the sheer pain the organ is enduring. His chest stutters and twitches from the force of his blubbering. Globs of snot and spit gush across down his face, some clumps managing to pervade across his tongue.
“Ken? Are you crying?” A monotone voice speaks.
“No! I’m… Not crying!”
His coughing whimpers and wet face reveal the truth. Weakness is something he was taught to be ashamed of, after all. What kind of man would he be if he let himself crumble over such petty matters? Would you ever fall for him after witnessing such a dramatic sight?
“Want me to load up Y/N? That might make you feel better.”
A few snivels through the silence and Kenji answers her. “Yeah… Yeah, I-I’d really like that…”
Maybe this is what he needs, just a few hits of his favorite drug to keep him in stable condition. Then, he’ll utilize the newfound strength to revive his honor, finally earning your affection in the end.
Pixels unfold in varying colors across the ground, spreading across the walls and ceiling like a reaching wave. The scene overtaking the basement now displays a romantic scene. Cherry blossom trees dance with the warm wind, petals drifting through the Spring air. A grand waterfall descends from a moss-covered mountain and leads to a river, where fish swim along with the stream. As he stands to his feet, Kenji finds himself at an arched bridge stretching over the river as the gentle melodies of nature sing around him.
When his gaze drifts around, he feels his heart practically plummet into the pit of his stomach when he sees you. Leaning over the wicker barrier and tossing out handfuls of kibble for the hungry fish.
Turning over your shoulder, you look up at Kenji with those glittering eyes, causing his breath to get caught in his throat. To make matters even worse for Kenji’s weak self, your face then breaks out into a candy-sweet smile. You are so innocently oblivious to how you’ve reduced his heart rate to an old engine, stuttering miserably. That smile could make even the devil repent, he’s sure of it. With luminosity like that, the greatest evils would have no choice but to succumb to their contrition.
Dusting your hands off, you frolic over to where Kenji stands. A lighthearted giggle escapes past your lips in the process, nearly bringing him to tears from how precious the sight is. Your hand slips into his and he might as well have crossed the pearly gates of heaven. Fuck, why hasn’t he made Mina do this before?
“Come on! Come feed the fishies with me!” You cheer in that captivating tone. That adoring voice could ask so sweetly for death and he’d deliver you buckets of blood. Just keep talking to him like that.
The impact you have on him is so immense, in fact, Kenji falls to his knees. The throbbing ache that his fall courses through his body might as well have been background noise, not when his senses are overwhelmed with how blissful your presence is.
His arms enclose around your legs, burying his face into your fuzzy sweater. With an amused hum, you sink your hands into his dark locks. The gesture makes him dizzy with elation. Spinning around the merry-go-round of devastating jubilation.
“Tell me you love me.” Kenji whines, his sensitive voice muffled against your stomach.
With another giggle that squishes his gooey heart, you respond.
“I love you, Ken.”
… Ken?
No! No, you wouldn’t call him that!
You’d call him Kenji, or better yet, you’d conjure up some adorable nickname in that witty head of yours. Anything but Ken; anything but what everyone else sees him as.
And just like that, the fantastical facade shatters and reveals what really lies beneath. None of this is real. As much as he wishes it would be, as much as he’d throw away everything for you to be beside him in this moment, all of this is merely a figment of his imagination.
“No! You’re not real! Y/N- They would never-!”
The tears return and leave his body through broken wails. Once again, he has been forged into a mess of cracked hiccups and ground-shattering sobs.
His clenched fist meets the solid ground, piercing pain invading his entire arm from the impact. The punch was thrown far from where you stand. Even as a hologram, Kenji cannot bear to hurt you. He couldn’t wish violence upon you even if he wanted to.
The dreamscape stood before him crumbles as quickly as it was formed. Darkness spreads once again and the romantic scene of cherry blossoms and fish kibble fades away. A physical manifestation of what he has become without you present.
Chasing after a sliver of your attention has now thrust Kenji into a staggering state of despair. His sob playlist shakes his house with its ear-splitting volumes, pushing more tears down his face while he stuffs his mouth with donuts.
The weight of the pain pushes him toward drastic measures, as he is now a hollow shell of who he used to be. Measures he assured himself he would never come to, but has inevitably crashed landed in.
If you do not fall for his riches, his charm, his fame, then Kenji will just have to… “persuade” you towards that goal.
Cameras flash and flicker in his face as he charms his way through another press conference of millions. Only this time, he has ground-breaking news to share.
“Fans have seen you blow supposed kisses to someone outside the venue. Is there a special someone in your life?”
Directly across the field is your studio, but he will not tell others this fact. It is his duty to protect you, after all. But, scattering a few breadcrumbs won’t hurt anyone.
“Yes. Yes there is.”
The room erupts in hushed gasps and the rushed scribbling of pens. Another wave of questions tumbles toward Kenji’s way.
“They mean everything to me. I owe all my success to Y/- I mean, my baby.”
A knowing smirk grows on his face. The Sherlock’s of the internet will surely connect the dots. Netizens will also fawn over how misty-eyed he became speaking of you, while others will rage in jealousy over their dream man falling for someone else. No matter what occurs, he will protect you during your sudden shift to fame. You have his word on that.
Days later, Kenji receives an email. And he almost considers admitting himself into a hospital for the near heart attack he receives upon reading it.
Signed by none other than Y/N L/N, you ask him to meet with you in order to “clear the air” and “sort out this drama”.
Several times, he scans the username to find some sort of fault, something that shows him it is just the works of an envious hater. However, his suspicions are never confirmed. The message is purely and undoubtedly you, no online troll or basement hologram in sight!
Without another second to waste, he responds to your email with a place and time, that being two hours from now. Kenji intends on fulfilling his role of the dashing boyfriend and to drive you there himself, flaunting his sumptuous motorcycle in the process. Mina, however, has since been programmed to detect every potential danger in your path, even something as minor as a crack in the pavement. When she displayed the graphic results of recent biking accidents, his heart lurched in his chest.
For now, he will simply have to meet you at the luxuriant restaurant he booked the best table for. In the future, he will convert to safer forms of transportation and your foot will never touch a pedal again. Not with your prince charming around.
Arriving an hour early, Kenji bursts through the bathroom doors and wipes the beads of sweat seeping down his face. All the makeup and detail he put into his appearance, all melted to a mess because of the anxiety you pump through his body.
It is almost comical. He, Ken Sato, is nervous? He’s done the classic dinner-date over a zillion times, delivering his suggestive pick-up lines and swift winks. Staring at his exasperated face in the mirror, he is at a loss of where to go from here. What will he even say? What famous lines can he use? How can he give you his black card and a copy of his house key without you running away?
Kenji finally sits down at the reserved table, located on a far balcony and looking over the grand city. His wristwatch blares red and presents the stack of missed calls from his dad, of which he willfully ignores. He went twenty years without his father and survived. Meanwhile, he went one week without you and thought he was on the cusp of death. He cannot bring himself to care about anything else. Not when he’s finally got a hook on you.
A waiter then asks him if he was feeling alright, concerned over the sight of his pale skin, shivering body, and twiddling thumbs. Kenji assures the man he is alright as he restlessly taps his foot, stalking the door ahead for the face he loves most to saunter through. The building could just about crumble to ash and he’d still sit here, waiting for your arrival.
And just like a movie, you pass the threshold and rob all the air from his lungs.
You merely walk his way, but to him, you resembled a fawn frolicking through a green meadow, an angel wandering across roads of fluffy clouds. Those sporadic nerves die at the sight of you, rendering him to a melted pile of twitterpated nonsense. You tread closer and closer and closer and Kenji does not know how much more his body can handle before you completely dissolve him into a puddle.
“You have five minutes.”
Your voice perfuses into his ears like birdsong, real and raw this time. That noise greeting him every morning is the only wish he’d ask from a magic genie.
“Wh-Wh-?” He stutters like a lovesick loser, mentally slapping himself across the head for such a pathetic introduction.
“I said you have five minutes to explain yourself. Then, I will le-”
“I love you.”
Surprise eases out your scrunched expression. You’ve never met this man before. Yet here he is, spewing out this gibberish. All of this has to be some form of joke, you assume. Where those irritating Youtube pranksters will sprint out from their hiding spots and shove their cameras in your face, cackling like hysterical hyenas.
“I am in love with you.”
Maybe this is just his way of leading partners into bed with him. A powerful effort to add another name to his lengthy body count. And for whatever reason, he plans to jot down your name on that list.
“And you are worth more to me than anything.”
You scrutinize his face for some inkling of rationality, something to explain what the fuck he means by that. Your efforts prove to be futile, as those teary, doe-eyes peer into your soul with nothing but sheer, unadulterated devotion. As though you were both fresh newlyweds enjoying the luxury of your honeymoon, complemented by the glimmer of your new wedding rings.
“Okay.” You swallow dryly, unease bleeding through your body. “You get another five minutes to explain yourself. On one condition.”
Kenji perks up at your proposition as though you had offered your hand in marriage.
“Yes! Yes, whatever you want!”
The man in question ponders over what riches you could ask him for and how elated he’d be to give you them. Taking you on shopping sprees and serving as your adoring husband, paying every penny and carrying your bags for you while you peruse to your liking. Just say the word, maybe flutter those pretty lashes, and he’ll personally deliver the very planet into your hands.
“I want you to leave me be.”
If it weren’t for the fact this man was a complete stranger, you’d feel a sting of guilt over the perceptible emotion that washes over his face. Kenji anticipated the demand of clothes, foods, travel tickets, of which he would gleefully fulfill. Not this. Anything but this.
“Alright, f-for how long? 10 minutes? 20?”
“Forever.”
You might as well have surged your fist into his chest cavity and torn his heart out, stomping out the ba-bump beneath the force of your boots. You might as well have climbed the tree behind his childhood home and ambushed his bird nest, tearing apart the array of twigs and squishing the healthy eggs. You might as well have just killed him right then and there, as nothing could pain him more than such a fate. Forever without the one he loves most is a life you couldn’t pay him to suffer through.
His bottom lip begins to tremble, stomach gurgling with nauseated shock. A few gags masked by coughs go unnoticed by you, as you could’ve sworn you saw a bright flash of white in the distance. Did someone… Take a picture?
“... What’s wrong, baby? What are you looking at, huh?”
Shifting your gaze back to Kenji, you find his features sheen with sweat and sickly-green from the queasiness you’ve forced upon him. What you especially notice is the accent of smugness beneath it all, etched into the smirk stretched across his lips.
Hushed whispers in the distance accelerate in volume, until the entire restaurant erupts in flashing lights.
Paparazzi!? What the fuck are they doing here!?
Kenji leans back into the chair and slings an arm around the back post, seemingly posing for the photographers invading your conversation.
“Oh, no! We’ve been caught! The horror! Whatever will we do now that our secret is out…?”
If it weren’t for the sake of your career, you would’ve socked that smile clean off his face. Maybe even knock out a few teeth while you’re at it.
Critics have now officially cleared the name of Ken Sato due to his recent spike in excellent performance. Sports commentators even toss around jokes of how Sato’s new partner has knocked some sense into him.
Another game of hundreds and the cologne of arrogance around Kenji could suffocate the entire arena. A recent report detailed by you is casted on the billboard outside your studio. He blows yet another kiss your way as he jogs onto the field, ignoring the shouting fans who seethe with envy. He has made it official across the nation that his heart is sewn into your hands. And not even God could level the happiness coursing through his body.
That is, until an uninvited visitor opens his mouth. The Swallows catcher begins to taunt him about his lover on the big screen, unaware of the lethal consequences it would harbor.
“You let the team hit, Sato? Shit, I might talk to coach about a transfer so I can get a piece of th-”
The baseball bat in Kenji’s hands collides with his jaw before he can finish his sentence.
Several more plunges into his skull and a swarm of teammates swarm around to break apart the scene. The crowd is alive with excited hollering, drowning out the noise of the blood-stained threats Kenji barks his way, strings of saliva spurting from his mouth like some feral mutt.
The onslaught of players quickly, albeit with struggle, overpower him, successfully retrieving the weapon from his grasp. The edges of his manicured nails dig into the meat of his palms, forming maroon crescents in his flesh. Blind with rage, more threats that will surely put him behind bars are screeched into the air.
A few harsh yanks from the group of men and Kenji is finally pried from the catcher. He is dragged off the field past the rushing paramedics before he can fulfill his promises.
“And now it looks like there are words being exchanged between Sato and the Swallows catcher... Oh! Oh, no. We haven’t seen a brawl like this in a long time! Both benches have cleared. They’re throwing punches…”
Soothing his sore muscles in an ice bath, Kenji watches the recording of his public meltdown with trepidation. Your eyes are not far and surely, you will bear witness to the violence his hands are capable of. He fears you daring to think he will treat you as such and his chest aches from the thought alone.
All he wants at this moment is to tear down the door to your apartment, take your precious face into his hands, and speak the utter truth as he assures you he will never bring harm to you. He’ll inform you of the context of the fight and what sparked such a reaction out of him. Then, you’ll thank him profusely for his heroic defense and drown him in your sugar-sweet kisses. Just like he has dreamt of every night, often waking up in the morning with his puckered lips against his knuckles.
Now, however, Kenji has surely destroyed any chances of gluing you to his side forever. You resent him for that stunt he pulled at dinner, and now, you are afraid of what he and his baseball bat may do. The ongoing success of Ken Sato has crashed and burned, resulting in the loss of what he cared for most.
“Ken!” Mina calls out to him. “I have something to show you!”
Assuming it is another plan of millions to stamp the title of ‘lover’ all over you, he rushes out of the bath and throws his clothes on. Venturing into the basement, he is met with the very last thing he expected.
The containment unit has been raised. Inside is you, fast asleep with a bow on your head. Wearing just his jersey and holding onto a plushie designed after himself.
“Surprise!”
Mina’s robotic arms stretch out, presenting the gift she captured retrieved for Kenji.
In addition to your permanent presence, the containment unit has been extensively decorated. The adornments are all pink and fluffy, like a cloud draped over a sunset. A circle-shaped bed is strung above the ground, supporting the weight of you and the mess of plushy comforters. It rocks you from side-to-side like a fussy baby who skipped out on naptime.
The scent of lavender pervading the air eases you into a deeper slumber. Tranquil white noise hums from the surrounding speakers, suffusing with the sounds of a light rainstorm. There are even holograms of shimmering stars and a full moon hovering over you, like some colossal mobile strung above a crib. Among the stars is a constellation, of some sort, that reads “Y/N SATO” in glittering letters.
And poor Kenji doesn’t know if he wants to beat Mina into shambles of wires or give her as many HTTP cookies her synthetic heart could ask for. For now, he is too woozy to make a coherent decision regarding her well-being. As he stated before, you always remain of utmost importance.
“My God…” He gasps out through stuttering breaths.
His heart pounds so violently, he can barely hear the sound of his own voice over the persistent thumping. Kenji wobbles over to you as though he had just stood on his two legs for the very first time. He is almost positive there is a certain air suffusing from your body, entering his bloodstream and choking him with fervent stress. Every step forward renders his body weaker and weaker.
Images then begin to haunt his mind, preceding what may happen in minutes time. Kenji sees your weeping face, crying to release you from this bird cage. He can hear the thundering volume of your voice declaring you will never fall in love with him, how you’ll soon vanish and leave him to forever rot in solitude.
The emotions these thoughts garner stir in his gut like a meal that doesn’t agree with him. Gags poke and prod at his throat, threatening to release the butterflies fluttering around his stomach. A glob of bile then spurts from his mouth and splats against the floor. Kenji, horrified and sick with worry, races away from the scene before he spills his guts in front of you and humiliates himself even further.
What on Earth is he meant to do now?
When you finally awaken, you’re convinced you’ve been melted into jelly. Maybe even restrained in a tank of thick oil. Limbs weak at wet spaghetti, you cling to any fragments of energy in your system as you try and discern your environment.
“Well, look who woke up!” A female voice greets you. “Do you want to see daddy?”
Something globe-shaped hovers around the barrier you’ve been ensnared in. If it weren’t for your groggy state, you’d verify it to be a robot and not a talking basketball.
“’Daddy’? What the hell are you talking about?” Your confused voice protrudes broken and sluggish, still stained with the sleep you’ve just woken from.
A screen forms above you and before your distorted vision, you find the very last sight you wished to see. Ken Sato, your own personal parasite, sits stiff in the living room just upstairs. Bouncing his leg in an anxious rhythm, he seems to be engrossed by a video on his laptop. As you listen further, the contents become more distinguishable.
“When the moment is right, lean into your partner slowly and tilt your head to avoid bumping noses.”
The robot clears her throat in an attempt at grasping his attention, but fails to do so.
“Close your eyes and let your lips connect naturally. Match the pattern of your partner to-”
Another noise of acknowledgment from the robot and Kenji’s attention is finally held. Barely, that is.
“What, Mina?” He answers curtly, eyes refusing to part from the information he is currently absorbing.
“Someone is waiting for you down here.”
In all the years you’ve lived on this planet, you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone move so fast before. Not only did Mina’s words arouse a visceral reaction out of Kenji, but they practically shoved him off the couch from the sheer force of her insinuations. His foot even gets caught behind a chair leg and causes him to land splat on his face, but this is not nearly enough to deter his acceleration.
The screen you were studying then folds into itself as an elevator descends from above. Through the cyan, blurred exterior, you see the frame of no other than Ken Sato. The doors open a mere inch before the man in question is squishing himself through the tight space. Always the acrobat he is, he gracefully trips onto his face, once again, before clumsily scrambling to his feet.
Now, you’re given the ability to absorb his appearance. Messy locks of black hair lack their normal gelled accentuation. Dark eyes are blown wide as though he were some feral animal. Tan arms are covered in red scratches from the relentless, anxious scratching he abused his flesh with.
The bold ‘ICON’ on his shirt mocks you. Is that what he is? Is that what he expects you to perceive him as? Would an ‘icon’ do such a thing like this?
You ponder over how much time has passed since you’ve been brought into this horrid basement, how much time has passed before friends and family have deemed you missing.
Kenji knows the answer to your questions. It had only been a day; twenty-four full hours of crazed, restless worry. He even skipped out on the championship for this moment, just to ensure you remained safe in the basement. He trusts Mina, of course, but he cannot rely on her to restrain you. The grasp he has on you is dangling by a thread, worn thin by his own stupid antics from before.
He knows now that if you were to take one step out the door, you’ll be gone forever. And Kenji will die before he allows that to happen.
Meanwhile, you’re still trying to garner pieces of your memory together. After returning to your apartment from a hectic day at the studio, you allowed yourself to indulge in the hot meals always waiting for you at your kitchen table. Normally, you’d chuck them in the garbage out of distrust. Tonight, however, you were so overwhelmed with lethargy, you couldn’t conjure enough energy to cook yourself a meal. So, the magic dinner-fairy would receive your blessing in the meantime.
One bite in and you were out like a light, oblivious to what exactly is waiting for you once you wake.
What was waiting for you now dashes toward the edge of your dog kennel, as you’d describe it. Kenji places a hand to the surface and his forehead lands against the wall with a light thud. His quickened, gasping breaths fog the glass. He does not leave even a centimeter between himself and the barrier separating both of you. The legs that have scored him more wins for the Giants than any other played in history suddenly grow weak, trembling as they try to support his weight.
Kenji’s half-lidded gaze is devoted to you only. A curl forms between his brows from the fervency of his emotions the longer he stares. His cheeks go red as two ripe cherries while he just stands and watches, all dewy-faced and blushing.
“Lower the containment unit.” He pants breathlessly, the sheer tone of love drooping from every syllable that parts from his mouth. Like pockets of honey seeping from a honeycomb.
“Ken. That might be a bad idea. We cannot anticipate how they will react.”
He presses lazy kisses against the glass as her words go through one ear and out the other. Ignoring her warning, he assures her of these concerns.
“I got ‘em, I got ‘em… My baby…”
To your horror, the walls plummet and grant this monster full access to where you lie. Kenji collapses, again, not realizing he had been leaning his full weight against the walls of the containment unit. This sudden intrusion causes you to flinch and you crawl away from him, attempting to shield yourself beneath the thick covers.
Body shivering with feverish need, his hand grasps onto the corner of the mattress to stabilize himself. Mere inches away from your foot. His chin lifts to look your way, his eyes only needing to bathe in the sight of you forever. Within his irises, you find swirling pools of darkness illuminated by specks of glitter. Sparkling for you and you alone.
A smile pokes at Kenji’s lips, bright and formidable, before he addresses your sour expression.
“Aww, why the long-face? Is my baby hungry, maybe?”
At the foot of the bed, a fraction of the floor folds open and rises a platter. On this platter is an array of all your favorite foods. Snacks, candies, sodas, juices, whatever your heart could possibly desire. Mina has correlated an all-you-can-eat buffet just for you. Similar to the dishes left for you back in your apartment.
As it spins, displaying every inch and corner of its delicious offerings, you curl further into yourself. You do not want nourishment, you want to leave! To part from this maniac and never hear of his name again!
With your refusal to eat, Kenji determines the reason behind your dismay to be because of him. Or, in his egotistical brain, the lack of him. The works of an absurdly large ego, you’d surmise.
“Do you… Do you need… Me?” The hope in his voice is akin to a child in disbelief over receiving surprise tickets to Disneyland.
And Kenji just melts from how gut-wrenchingly adorable you are. By simply existing, you’re yanking at his heartstrings like a puppeteer, guiding him further and further towards the edge of sanity. With eyes peering up at him like that, he’ll welcome the predicament warmly.
“Oh… I’m right here, baby. Daddy won’t leave you.” He coos in your ear, the warm cadence practically oozing into your brain.
Still overwhelmed with exhaustion, you do not have a morsel of strength left in your body to fight off his affections. Despite how desperately you wish to. Instead, you have to remain pliant as Kenji guides you onto your back, soothing and shushing you as you sink further into the plush surface.
Tearing his shirt from his body, the loss of the ‘icon’ status, he crawls beneath the opulent covers with you. His arm snakes around your waist, while the other cradles your cheek. Hands shuddering and heart pattering as he presses himself against your back, he wonders how he had not simply died right in this moment. You’re too perfect. It’s too much for his poor heart to take. Cupid may as well have discarded the pink-hued arrows and plunged a knife straight into his chest.
Kenji leaves an array of kisses on the back of your neck as you drift back into a tranquil slumber. All those wishes he set on shooting stars have finally returned and placed you directly in his beloved bird nest. All to stay at his side forever.
All to never leave.
⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
��� WHY CAN'T I FIND
NO ONE LIKE YOU . . . ? ❞
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#moonfairy#kenji sato#ken sato#ultraman#ultraman rising#kenji sato x reader#ken sato x reader#ultraman x reader#ultraman rising x reader#kenji sato imagine#ken sato imagines#ultraman imagine#ultraman rising imagine#yandere kenji sato#yandere ken sato#yandere ultraman#yandere ultraman rising#yandere#gender neutral reader#Spotify
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Okay so about your bird colony.... do you have any specific birds in mind? Like vulture, hawk, raven, parrot, etc.?
You can envision any kind of bird you’d like! I personally though have always seen them in my head as Scarlet Macaw Hybrids
I just imagine their hair being one of the colors of their wings or some beautiful combination of the colors. And they’d totally use their looks to their advantage.
TW: kidnapping, dub con, hypnosis, yandere behaviors.
The Bird Hybrids know they’re beautiful and how alluring and majestic they are. And they can’t imagine why you aren’t eagerly jumping at the chance to be their mate.
The beauty of their wings and their gorgeous vibrant coloring works on you with everything else. Whenever one of the bird hybrids needs a break, it doesn’t take much seducing to get you to let them take a break. Even if you’re in the zone and don’t want to stop the routine you just melt for them.
Or when they’re so desperate to fuck you and they wanna stay after class. Sometimes you’ll dare to say you can’t because you want to go home or, god forbid, you have plans to be with someone else instead of them. They’ll surround you, wings fanning out, and with big pouts on their faces. Asking you why you’re leaving them when they need your help so badly.
You’re not strong enough for such an attack and you give in easily. They relish in you canceling your plans for them and make sure to give you extra love and attention while they fuck you as rough as you can beg for.
Eventually they’d reach a point where they would make sure they can have you all to themselves. Not wanting to risk it anymore. It’s time for you to be their mate officially and be with them.
So one day they’d bring you in and show you a special dance they choreographed all on their own. They would use their wings to slowly lure you in and hypnotize you till you’re pliant enough to take into their arms.
They’d all fly you to their giant nest where they all live together. You’ve never seen them all together. Usually they break into groups for all your classes every week and you see them in chunks. But there’s more than you ever realized.
And they don’t give you time to realize much. They’re on you before you can piece together what this all means or what just happened.
The only thing before you is a sea of hazy colors, your eyes clouded over with lust. You get lost in the pleasure they drown you in, all of them taking turns filling every hole you have. Thrusting into you with vigor and taking your plump body like it’s a prize they’ve finally won.
All you can do is moan and bask in the sensation coursing through your body. Your eyes taking across their lovely feathers in awe. Gasping and quivering as they caress your body in passing. A few of the bird hybrids daring to put them inside you.
The more you cum the more cock drunk they get you. You can’t help but pop a feather in your mouth and suck greedily. Loud chirping pierces the air and the hybrids currently fucking you all slam their cocks inside your spent and dripping holes with even more ferocity.
You scream around the feather as you cum again. Your pleasure causing all the other bird hybrids to shoot their own loads deep inside your exhausted body. It drips out of you as soon as it enters you, joining the rest of the puddle beneath you.
You briefly mourn it, hating not being so full. But luckily another group of mates quickly come to replace the ones who’ve been sated. As soon you as you feel their presence, unable to detect movement besides the shift of color, you spread wide for them. Basking as their praises immediately meet your ear. A second later you’re filled again and the color of their wings seems to brighten spectacularly.
#dragonsasks#monster fucker#monster smut#monster lust#monster romance#monster lover#monster fluff#exophelia#teratophillia#furry nsft#hybrid furry#furry fiction#furry#hybrid smut#hybrid fic#bird hybrid#werebird#werecreature#monster yandere#yandere monster#yandere smut#yandere male#yandere teratophilia#x chubby reader#monster x reader#monster x human#monster x chubby reader#monster x fem!reader#yandere x you#yandere x reader
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They are so big and so cute! And if Huggin and Munnin are well above the average size of ravens they could be nearly the size of Tim's torso. Certainly bigger than his head. Plus they are so, so smart. Some of the smartest birds in the world. Imagine Tim getting in kidnapped as a civilian and Huggin simply grabs the key for him while Munnin acts as a look out. Tim escapes without ever being seen.
Tim also has special "bird doors" in his Nest so the whole place is filled with his many birds. Sure not all of them live there because he set up dozens of safe places around the city that are basically just Reall Big Pigeon Roosts with bird feeders in them that all types of birds are allowed in. Also the bird doors are much to small for any human to fit through, much like dog and cat doors are, and they do have actual sliding metal doors on them that are opened and unlocked by proximity of the little cameras he put on some of his birds. Roughly 4 owls, 8 pigeons, 3 Bluejays, 2 hawks, 17 crows, 9 grackles, and 20 ravens have access to his Nest. Are those a lot of keys just flying around the city? Yes. But no one knows the birds are his, Tim is constantly trying to make smaller and smaller cameras for them so that they will never be spotted, and who the fuck is gunna point to a random bird and go "that bitch has the key to Red Robin's house." And be believed by anyone who would help them catch a fucking pigeon that's just minding their own buisness?business??
The only beings who notice the cameras are other birds and the strange sparkly spot on his birds chest? It only gives his birds more Rizz. There was a study about how Zebra Finches actually preferred to mate with those who had on red tracking tags over other colors so what if this is similar? This would also mean that every spring Tim has an exponentially larger amount of birds.
Also the funniest way for the family to find out. It's one of the very rare sunny days in summer where it's Actually Hot in Gothem so the family decides it's the perfect day to use the pool in the back yard of Wayne Manor. Everyone is having an amazing time and eventually Tim gets tired so he sits down on one of the reclining pool chairs for a rest and snack, which is his chocolate free trail mix. He has a large bowl of it and ends up falling asleep with it in his lap. Just as the siblings are giggling and deciding what prank to play, a crow lands next to Tim and sqwacks a few times. Tim mumbles in his sleep but doesn't move so the bird hops up onto Tim's chair and starts to eat out of his bowl. Since it doesn't get shooed away, soon others are joining it. The family watches in amazement as Tim gets *covered* in birds that are casually eating from his bowl. There's even a pair of hawks that are perched above his head. When the bowl is empty, one of the crows bites Tim on the nose, startling him awake and he glares at the feathery fiend and very gently taps it on the beak as he scolds, "Monroe, I told you to stop biting my nose. Wait- you guys ate all my trail mix!" He has forgotten that his siblings are there because it's usually the birds or siblings, never both.
Oh, and when they eventually ask why he hid the birds, Tim simply says, "last time anyone found out, Janet called an exterminator."
I love this so much. Him building little nests all over the city for them is adorable and great. It would be cool if he started that before his Robin years as he was out and about in Gotham. He just built small little safe places for the birds, and it rapidly expanded as Tim got more experience, more resources, and more birds to look after.
Your logic with the keys is fantastic! When the batfam finds out, I bet birds pop by Tim's place while whatever family member is just chilling. Like maybe they are watching a movie and said bat gets distracted by the coming and goings of various birds (the birds probably also mess a bit with Tim or his space as fond pestering before leaving again). Maybe a few are just staring at the family member without blinking or taking a nap.
I wonder if Damian would start to make excuses to go over to Tim's Nest as much as possible. He states he needs to "ensure Timothy is maintaining adequate nesting conditions for the various species of birds" or that he will "test the Nest's security" by dropping by unannounced and breaking in.
Perhaps some of the birds watch over his various family members for Tim? Especially Duke because nobody else works the day shift with him, and birds are more common during the day (and thus less suspicious).
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My favorite details in Castle Lecter's set design
1. The Lecter family crest pays homage to the Hannibal book cover.
It references Milan's biscione, a snake devouring a man, which appears on the coat of arms of the Visconti and Sforza families (from which Hannibal is descended on his mother's side).
SIDE NOTE: One of Hannibal's favorite pastimes as the curator of the Palazzo Vecchio was reading about his ancestors:
Funnily enough, the Visconti-Sforza commissioned their own tarot decks in the 15th century, so Hannibal might've been studying those in the Palazzo library around the time he designed his Vitruvian Man tableau. Here's the original Visconti di Modrone Three of Swords vs an artist's reproduction:
2. Pheasant & Raven imagery
The Chiyoh/Abigail parallels are strong, but Chiyoh's symbolic prey animal is a pheasant instead of a deer! She uses pheasant quills as decoration for her dinner with Will, and there are some taxidermied pheasants in the hunting lodge we didn't get to see:
But my favorite detail is how she uses a pheasant bone to kill the Caged Man! Even a prey animal has sharp edges.
Meanwhile, ravens represent Hannibal's imposing presence haunting the estate. We see them on the Lecter family crest and taxidermied by the fireplace.
Doubled birds of prey motif... a nod to how Will is joining Hannibal as a predator?
All the hawk paintings could also just be referencing this single line in Hannibal Rising:
SIDE NOTE: Over in Florence, Hannibal is keeping in the bird theme with a feathered arm ham wing and a nest of green bean asps for his dinner with Sogliatto:
3. A Shrine for Mischa?
There's a deleted scene in the script where Will spots a Shinto shrine while snooping:
A small version of this shrine appears above the fireplace. It includes a pair of birds of paradise, the same flower Chiyoh leaves on Mischa's grave:
If you've read the books, Mischa's presence is also palpable in the deer heads watching over their dinner (not that we got to see them lol):
4. The way the painting above the fireplace is cut off makes it look like an oni glaring at them! Creepy!
Or maybe it's meant to look like Enma, the Buddhist King of Hell, who is depicted in the painting on the ceiling in the original production design (The Fever of Tairo no Kiyomori by Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, 1883):
It's actually this Rorschach of a landscape based on Old Plum by Kano Sansetsu (1646):
5. Japanese family crests (mon) on the curtains
The Secondo scene uses the weeping wisteria family crest (sagari fuji mon):
The name Murasaki means wisteria, so I assume this crest represents her. It's doubly fitting, since in real life, this is the Fujiwara crest, and Lady Murasaki's namesake (Murasaki Shikibu, author of the Tale of Genji) was a Fujiwara.
The original production design uses a princess tree family crest (kiri mon). Not sure if there was any symbolism to that choice, but they didn't go with it in the end.
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The Orders of the Knights Radiant as Birds
Namely, birds that I happen to (think I) know something about. This post motivated by watching pelicans for an entire day while I was sick.
The Windrunners are like pelicans--they fly in neat rows with their chests out and their heads facing straight ahead, and when they hunt, they skim close and fast over the surface of the water and then dive straight down below the surface without hesitation
But the Edgedancers--as represented by Lift--are also like pelicans; if they can eat it, they'll try to eat it. (Remember the one that tried to eat a capybara? Just to see if it could?)
But the Edgancers are also vultures--they tend to the dying, they destroy diseases and pestilence, they're holy
The Dustbringers are also like vultures; they take things apart and thrive on seeing what's inside
And the Dustbringers are also woodpeckers--pounding away at the tree and reducing it gradually to dust
The Stonewards are flamingos--extremophiles who can endure any conditions, for they follow Taln
But the Lightweavers are also flamingos because of their color, their vibrancy, and the growing realization of how much they can endure
The Lightweavers are also cowbirds--shapeshifters who pretend to be what they're not to survive, not always on purpose, not meaning to hurt
And the Truthwatchers are roosters, yelling about the light
But Truthwatchers are also ravens, known for watching and learning secrets and being wise
Willshapers are weaver birds, who build elaborate and beautiful nests
But Willshapers are also chickadees--first to explore a new feeder, grabbing one seed and flying quickly away, never tied down
Bondsmiths are puffins; they mate for life, cherishing their bonds with each other; social and curious, wanting to learn and be like others
Elsecallers are crows--very smart, very clever, and definitely willing to mess with you if you upset them
But Elsecallers are also cormorants, taking to the air and swimming beneath the water. They can go between realms easily and smoothly to get what they want
And Skybreakers are hawks--quick, predatory, a quick flash in the sky bringing death to their prey
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BIRD ID PACK
NAMES︰ adreinne. aero. alouette. altair. amaranth. aoife. arden. aria. arno. aster. astor. ava. avian. aviana. azure. baz. beckett. blackwell. blair. blythe. bram. branson. branwen. brielle. briggs. bromeliad. brooklyn. byrd. cale. callum. canary. cardinal. carlton. carmine. carrie. carrion. celadon. celeste. ceru. chaos. chirp. ciel. circe. citrine. claw. cobalt. collectoresse. collectorette. colm. corbett. corbin. corrie. corva. corvid. corvus. crane. crawford. creston. crosby. cross. crow. crown. dade. daya. dove. doverie. dovesse. draco. dracoonia. draven. echo. enda. ezio. falcon. feather. featheresse. featherette. featherine. finch. fletcher. gavin. hawk. heliconia. heron. hevea. hunter. jay. jaybird. jemima. jinx. jonah. jonas. kale. koko. krow. lark. lilith. lonan. lowen. luna. maggi. maggie. magpie. marigold. masie. mavis. melody. merle. merope. midnight. mimi. minnie. morticia. muru. nevermoresse. nevermorette. noir. noire. noiresse. noirette. nym. nyx. onyx. ophelia. orev. oriole. orpheus. ozul. paloma. phoenix. pigeon. poe. prophess. psitta. raven. ravenesse. ravenette. ravin. robin. sephora. sequoia. skye. songbird. sparrow. swan. taci. talon. torres. trinkesse. trinkette. tweety. valerie. vega. vera. volya. whistle. wing. wingesse. wingette. wren. zephyr. ákos.
PRONOUNS︰ adore/adore. ae/aer. ama/amazon. av/avi. beak/beak. bill/bill. bird/bird. black/black. ca/caw. cage/cage. caw/caw. chirp/chirp. chrip/chirp. chyr/chyr. claw/claw. cloud/cloud. collector/collector. coo/coo. corv/corv. corvid/corvid. corvus/corvid. cro/crow. crow/crow. dark/dark. dove/dove. echo/echo. fea/feather. feather/feather. finch/finch. flight/flight. float/float. flock/flock. fluff/fluff. fly/fly. fruit/fruit. grain/grain. hawk/hawk. hum/hum. hx/hxm. hy/hym. it/it. ix/ix. jay/jay. melody/melody. midni/midnight. mimic/mimic. murder/murder. myr/myr. nest/nest. nevermore/nevermore. night/night. owl/owl. parr/parrot. paw/paw. peck/peck. perch/perch. plume/plume. proph/prophecy. raven/raven. reincarn/reincarnation. river/river. robin/robin. seed/seed. shx/hxr. shy/hyr. sing/sing. sky/sky. soa/soar. soar/soar. song/song. spar/sparrow. star/star. swan/swan. talon/talon. thxy/thxm. thy/thym. trill/trill. trinket/trinket. tweet/tweet. ve/ve. whistle/whistle. wing/wing. 🐔. 🐣. 🐤. 🐦. 🐦⬛. 🐧. 🕊. 🕊️. 🖤. 🗑️. 🦃. 🦅. 🦆. 🦉. 🦚. 🦜. 🦢.
#pupsmail︰id packs#id pack#npt#name suggestions#name ideas#name list#pronoun suggestions#pronoun ideas#pronoun list#neopronouns#nounself#emojiself#birdkin#bird therian
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Crazy
Kaz Brekker x reader
Summary; the enemy of your enemy is your friend... unless they are also your enemy
Warnings; blood?, knives, uhhhh violence lmfao, enemies to lovers
Words; 2,000+
This didn't end the way I wanted it to but that's okay
The inspo was from the song Trouble by Valerie Broussard
I'm prolly gonna make a pt. 2 bc im cool
Btw,, when introducing the Night Scarlets, each member will have their code name like this, name (code name)
We wear red so they don’t see us bleed
Kaz Brekker hated many, many people. However, there was one group, in particular their leader, that he hated most. The Night Scarlets. Or the Cardinal, their leader. She has been after Kaz since he joined the business. She and her girls have stolen countless of missions right from under his nose, always having his Crows do the work then swooping in and taking over. She infuriated her.
Hundred dollar bills under our sleeve
We intend not to sleep ‘til we’re dead
The thing Kaz never understood was how. How did she know everything he had planned? He had thought it was spies at first, possibly he had a rat in his nest. But no. Even when he went on solo missions. The Cardinal would always know.
Drink our problems right out of our heads
Singing oh, oh-oh-oh, oh
Trouble
(Trouble)
Singing oh, oh-oh-oh, oh
Here comes trouble
(Trouble)
“Now, not a word to a single soul about this mission. Hear me?” Kaz asked lowly to his Crows. “If the Night Scarlets find out about this and ambush us I will take each of your hands and shove them down your throats. Am I understood?” The Crows nodded nervously.
“Kaz.” Inej started. “You do know we’ve never said anything before, right? I don’t know how but they always find out, whether we talk or not. She always knows.”
Kaz sighed, “I know.” He answered shortly, turning to look out the window.
Dangerously havin’ the time of our lives
These boys are just poisonous thorns in our sides
“So what do we do about them? I mean, I love the ladies, don’t get me wrong. But these ones gotta go.” Jesper said, toying with his new gun he had just stolen.
“I don’t know if there’s anything we can do, Jesper. They’re practically non existent when they aren’t in action.” Nina responded.
“I mean, there has to be a way to catch them. No one can be completely invisible forever.” Wylan said, his brain running through thousands of possibilities. “Maybe we can set a trap for them?”
Matthias snorted, “They’ll turn that into a trap against us. Bad idea.”
“Well, we need to do something. I need money!” Jesper argued.
“You don’t need it, you’re just going to gamble it all!” Wylan said, raising his voice slightly.
Starting fires wherever we go
Watching ‘em gamble everything they own
The group stopped arguing as the sound of glass breaking filled the room. KAz swung his cane one more time and a strangled bird cry came out. He stuck his hand out the broken window and grabbed the bird. Throwing it onto the table in anger.
“A cardinal.” Inej whispered.
Kaz slammed his hand down on the table, “She knows! She knows! How does she always know!” He yelled, picking up a glass and throwing it all the wall, causing Nina to flinch and Jesper instinctively step closer to Wylan. Kaz looked up with death in his eyes. “Change of plans. We’re killing the Cardinal. No matter the cost.
Singing oh, oh-oh-oh, oh
Trouble
(Trouble)
“Ready girls?” Y/n whispered into the small, barely workable communication device that her Fabrikator, Aisha (Raven), had been working on for months.
“Yeah.” Luna (Eagle) whispered back.
“Ready, C.” Patty (Hawk) responded.
“Steph?” Y/n asked as she pulled her dark red hood over her head.
A few grunts were heard before Stephanie's ( voice filled their ears, “Yep, ready boss.”
Y/n smiled as she began to climb down the walls of the building to the top window, careful to stay out of the Wraiths' sight. “Great. Let’s commit some crimes. Shall we?”
Stephanie giggles, the clicking of her guns being prominent. “Oh, we shall. Ooo, my fellow sharpshooter, my favorite.”
The line went quiet as Y/n carefully crawled through the opened window, landing silently in the office. She walked briskly to the desk, quietly rummaging through the drawers. She let out a gasp as her arm was pulled back and a familiar cane wrapped around her neck, causing her back to be flush against someone's chest.
Trouble coming in the dead of night
Trouble making everything alright
“Looking for something?” Kaz said quietly into her ear, proud as to finally catch the Cardinal.
Y/n sighed with a smirk, “Yes. I am.” She said before kicking out his leg, being sure to not hit his bad one. He grunted and took a step back, keeping the cane around her throat. She took the chance to duck out of the way and push him back against the wall, raising her dagger in between the two.
“Y’know, I was very offended to find out you killed my bird.” Y/n said, her hood shielding her eyes.
“Should’ve told it to stay away. The Crow is stronger than the Cardinal after all.”
Y/n laughed, “Oh, Kaz. You should know by now strength is not the most valuable trait of this lifestyle. It’s intelligence-” Kaz’s eyes widened.
“In which I’d have the upperhand on both of you.” A new voice said as two arms knocked the dagger from Y/n’s hands, bringing them behind her back and ripping the hood from her head. Kaz stared at her as people grabbed him as well. He had never truly seen the Cardinal without her hood, and he hated to admit how her face made his heart stutter,
It’s in your blood
It’s in your bones
You cannot sleep for
You cannot sleep for
The two hostages were dragged down the stairs to see their fellow partners bound in ropes. They pushed the two down on their knees next to each other, causing Kaz to let out a grunt as his leg bent weird. Y/n sighed, disappointed in her lack to see the real trap behind Kaz’s.
“Well, well, well. Look what I have found.” Pekka said with a disgusting smile, looking at each of the criminals tied up. “A bunch of little thieves who think they are so smart.” Pekka continued on his speech as Y/n struggled with her binds. If only she could reach her ear.
“Kaz.” She whispered quietly, careful to not let the boasting man hear.
“What?” He hissed angrily.
She sighed again, “I need you to kiss my ear.”
Kaz almost looked like he was going to hurl, causing the girl to roll her eyes.
“What the fuck? No way.” He whispered back.
Whoa, oh
Whoa, oh
Tro-tro-trouble, trouble
“Do you want to get out of this?”
“How will kissing your ear help?”
“Just do it, for Saint’s sake!”
“Hey! Quiet, little bird.” Pekka said, walking over and caressing the girl's face with her own blade. She looked at him in disgust and spit in his face, causing everyone's eyes to widen. Pekka calmly wiped the spit from his face before angrily sliding the dagger against her cheek, slicing her skin.
Y/n smiled at him, “Red is my favorite color, you know?”
Pekka glared at her in anger, “Useless slut.” He said before walking back to his men, pulling them into a circle and talking quietly.
“Now!” She whispered to Kaz who reluctantly brought his lips to her ear, ignoring the water pooling around his knees. His lips met a piece of cold metal and he pulled back, actually looking into her ear to see a weird device.
“What is that?” He questioned, eyebrows raised.
Y/n ignored him, “Raven, are you there?” She whispered to nothing, before a relieved smile came across her face. “Emergency. Help. Now.”
Woah, oh
Woah, oh
Here comes trouble, trouble
After a few moments the door of the house burst open, letting in birds of all different kinds, all flocking around and clawing at anything they could get their claws on, Pekka and his men included and targeted.
“Hey, Cardinal.” A voice whispered from behind the girl as she cut her restraints.
“Raven, good timing.” Y/n responded with a smile, taking the dagger Aisha handed her. “Free the other Scarlets. Leave the Crows for now.”
“No, you let us go. I helped you.” Kaz protested as a few of Pekkas men ran out of the house.
“No can do, Brekker.” Y/n said before pulling her hood back up and going to fight off the men that weren’t scared by the birds.
After a few moments a disgruntled, furious yell broke out, “I will get you and kill you all!” Pekka screamed as he ran from the house, scratches littering his skin.
Y/n whistled to the birds, causing them all to stop and fly out the door, their duty finally fulfilled. Her Scarlets stood beside her as she studied the Crows, still tied up and on the floor, a few adorning bird scratches.
“Free them.” She demanded her girls, who broke out in protest. She raised her hand and they silenced. “They will not kill us. They need us, as we need them.” She addressed their concerns and they reluctantly cut the ropes binding their hands. Immediately Inej stood and got into a fighting stance. Her fellow Crows followed after, other than Kaz, who simply lifted his hand to tell them to be calm.
“We need you, do we?” He asked, taking a step towards the Cardinal.
“Yes, as do we, you. Pekka Rollins is, obviously, after us both. We are small groups. Six in yours, five in mine. Rollins has dozens of Dime Lions. It is simply impossible for one of us alone to take him down. You know that, hence why you didn’t let your Crows attack. Isn’t that correct?”
“Unfortunately it is. We shall work together.” Every bird in the room protested. “Until Pekka is down.”
Y/n smiled and held out her hand, “And then you can go back to getting bested by the Night Scarlets.
“I’m not planning on it.” He said, not raising his hand, and Y/n, ever so observant, had noticed his touch aversion ages ago.
“Air shake.”
“No.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
“It’s not a deal unless we shake on it.”
“No.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“No.”
“You don’t have weapons.”
“No.”
“I’m smarter than you.”
“No.”
“I’m cooler than you.” Everyone laughed, even Kaz had let a small, smug smirk fall upon his lips.
“You aren’t.” He said, pretending to shake the girl's hand without touching it.
There are dogs on the loose, there are snakes in the desert (in the desert)
I’m that knife in your boot, girl, I got ya (Girl, I got ya)
I’m your number two man in a fight (In a fight)
“And then, we win. Easy peasy.” Y/n said, finishing explaining the plan to the now group of nine.
“Easy peasy my ass.” Jesper mumbled.
“Language, Jes. A kruge.” Y/n smiled triumphantly as Jesper rolled his eyes and handed the girl a kruge. In the three months the two groups had been working together they had become quite close.
“Oh, yeah. I’m so ready for this. We’re so gonna win.” Patty said with a large smile, her arm linked with Nina’s who nodded along.
Y/n laughed slightly, “We will. Now go. Get rest. You’ll need it. We have a big day tomorrow.”
We are revolutionaries tonight
Singing oh, oh-oh-oh, oh
Trouble
(Trouble)
The office emptied, leaving the Crow and Cardinal. Kaz stared at the map, thinking hard.
“Kaz, what’s on your mind?” Y/n asked, placing her hand next to his to provide comfort without actually touching him.
“We can’t do it. We aren’t strong enough.” He muttered and Y/n laughed. Kaz looked at her in annoyance.
“Kaz. We are just about the strongest lot Kerch has seen. We’ve got this. We’re the coolest bunch in Ketterdam.”
Kaz shook his head with a smile he only let out around her. A genuine, happy smile. “Yes, we’re so cool. Do cool people always talk about how cool they are, though?”
Y/n nodded, “Obviously. Have you met me?” She asked with a teasing smile.
“Unfortunately, I have.”
Trouble coming in the dead of night
Trouble making everythin’ alright
Y/n put her hand over her heart with a gasp. “I’m hurt. You, Kaz R. Brekker, have wounded me right in the heart.” He smiled at the use of his real last names initial, something she had always done once she learned his last name was truly Rietveld.
It’s in your blood
It’s in your bones
You cannot sleep for
You cannot sleep for
“Oh no, Kaz, I'm Feeling light headed.” Y/n said, stumbling back towards the bed. She fell once the back of her calves hit the bed frame. “I see the light!” She said, reaching her arm up towards the sky. “Oh, it’s getting brighter! Kaz! It’s getting brighter!” She portrayed blood spurting from her chest, before spasming and falling limp, her tongue hanging from her mouth.
She failed to hide her smile as Kaz’s oh so beautiful laugh filled the air. It was like music to her ears. Compared to most people, Y/n got through Kaz’s walls rather quickly, which surprised everyone, including Kaz himself. She had provided him a safe space, free from the water and cold skin and lifeless eyes.
Y/n continued to play dead even after the laughter stopped, not failing to hear the footsteps nearing the bed, causing her heart to speed up. In just a moment, a soft hand gripped hers and pulled her body up as Kaz pulled her into a hug.
“Thank you.” He whispered, before quickly pulling away before the water rose above his head.
Heat creeped up Y/n’s neck, “For?”
“Making me look cooler by your loserness.” He simply said before walking out, pretending nothing happened.
Y/n smiled to herself, falling back onto the bed, a dreamy sigh falling from her lips. She kicked the air while giggling in excitement. Oh, how whipped the Cardinal was for the Crow.
Crazy.
Woah, oh
Woah, oh
Here comes trouble, trouble
#aanoia#romance#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x you#kaz brekker imagine#inej gahfas#six of crows#six of crows x reader#crooked kingdom#shadow and bone#leigh bargudo#kazzle dazzle#Spotify
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hey! Sorry if this is a bad time for asks, I was just really curious about your turkeys and had some questions about how they are raised. How much space do they need, and how do you make sure they aren’t eaten by wild animals? Is it different than raising other animals? Also, is there a distinction between turkeys who are raised for meat and turkeys who aren’t? Thanks, I’m kind of a noob when it comes to birds
never a bad time for asks, it just might take me ages to get to ya lol
my birds free range around maybe a half acre of land? technically they have access to more but the brush gets really thick and dense so they aren’t particularly motivated to a spread out, and in general they don’t like to get too far from their food/water/coop area unless they’re finding a hiding spot for nesting. turkeys are pretty big birds and they like to roost as high as they can, so access to vertical space is something to consider (mine have a willow grove that they perch in, but building some perches is just fine also).
predators are a pretty wide topic. it depends on where you live and what your predator pressure is like. I used to live in a suburb and the only problem we ever had was a raccoon that was wayy too acclimated to the presence of people. now we have eagles, hawks, mountain lions, coyotes, raccoons, opossums… basically everything. the main problem I have is that hens will completely fuck off and hide and be very difficult to find, and then if I can’t get them in the coop at night something will eventually eat them, but if they aren’t free ranging, that’s not necessarily a problem. I’m looking into getting them ankle tag trackers for next season, lol. aerial predators can be a serious problem; a friend of mine has had eagles go for full size turkey toms. I don’t leave babies / poults out without a person around until they’re big enough to not be an easy target for ravens or other overhead birds (they stay in a covered dog run until they’re larger). for the amount of raptors I see everywhere, we’ve done surprisingly well to avoid aerial predator problems. for one, we have over a dozen geese that scream their heads off at any bird going overhead too close, so that might help. but they also have access to the willow grove and the rabbit shed to be under cover, and they will alert each other if they notice something overhead. cooping them up to roost at night is absolutely essential, unless you have the ability to built like 20 foot roosts that aren’t climable and they all use them. not much different from protecting chickens; they’re bigger, but still prey animals.
then this last bit is kind of a layered question that I love talking about lol. I raise heritage turkeys. If you buy turkey meat at the grocery store, you’re getting broad breasted turkey. they are fundamentally genetically the same - there’s only one species / breed of turkey - but their physical structure is verrrryyy different. heritage turkeys are built more similarly to wild turkeys, though bred with a wide range of color variations. broad breasted turkeys are, like broiler chickens, bred to produce the most meat the most efficiently. they might have the poorest welfare of any meat animal. like chickens, they’re bred to produce an excess of meat on their breast. they cannot move well because they have too much meat on their bodies; heritage and wild turkeys are a lot of bone with less meat layers on. broad breasted turkeys cannot live very long as they were bred to be killed as soon as they’re at harvest weight and do not have much longevity. even before that, they will topple over from the weight of the meat on their breasts and break their own toes and be unable to walk. their growth is exponential to an unsustainable point. they are incapable of breeding themselves and have to be artificially inseminated.
heritage turkeys are for more robust, healthy, and long-lived. they can also be raised for meat, but you’re going to get half as much meat if that, and it’ll take longer to reach butcher weight. so they’re a LOT more expensive to buy, hence why it’s pretty rare to find people raising heritage turkeys for meat. some people are doing it for the sake of more humane and ethical turkey meat production, but it’s just not popular when the alternative is cheaper and gets you more food. here’s one of my previous hens, Adelaide (RIP my lil lady, love you always) and a broad breasted turkey about the same age as her.
feel free to let me know if you have any other questions, I love an opportunity to go off about turkeys.
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im bored, so you know what you get? the mechanisms as birds. but specifically ones native to here, where i live, specifically
Jonny is a cowbird to me. ive said that before i think. nest parasitism is the closest thing to... his whole thing with parental figures that youre gonna get when it comes birds. i have more thoughts there but im leaving it at that. and cowbirds are the only obligate brood parasites here (there is two species of cuckoos but they mostly raise their own eggs). so hes a brown headed cowbird. + somwthing something cowboy cowbird
The Toy Soldier is a loon. have you ever seen a loon? everytime i see a loon i think theres no way thats a real bird. but it is. theyre the uncanny valley of birds to me. and it and loons both have beautiful voices. considering its vocal chords, red throated loon makes the most sense. ive never actually seen a nontaxidermied red throated loon in real life, but they do winter here. i will also accept anything else from my bird uncanny valley. anyway red throated loons also live in britain which is important since the toy soldier is very english. common loons do as well but thats slightly less relevant
Marius is definitely one of those birds with elaborate showy mating rituals. so a prairie chicken or a turkey off the topa my head? out of the local ones. yeah definitely a greater prairie chicken since those like. are well known for their mating dances. fun fact prairie chicken mating dances are called booming. so in some places prairie chickens are called boomers
Drumbot has to be a crane. just because he played the robot in the song based off the crane wife folktale. anyway hes a whooping crane. wait no nevermind sorry cranes who i love very much apparently pigeon hawks are called merlins in europe. so hes a pigeon hawk now. sorry dude you just lost like 4 or 5 feet of height
Nastya is a blue jay because they r blue, smart and can use tools. traits Nastya shares. idk im tired i cant hink of anything better. or shes any bird that are also in russia. so like a snowy owl r a great grey owl? idk why i can only think of owls there are other arctic birds
Gunpowder Timothy is some sort of duck. why? vibes. lemme think... american black duck. not taking questions.
Raphaella is hard because i have thought of her as so many birds. for. somewhat obvious reasons. she could be a raven, because of odin. if you subscribe to the headcanon that she was icarus, she could be a waxwing. for the pun. great tit because she- nevermind those are introduced >:(. etcera etcetera. just imagine any bird. good job! that is her. thumbs up emoji.
Ashes is an owl just because the word for a group of owls is a parliament and i couldnt pass up a dumb pun about their hobby of politics. not sure if thats funny. which owl? uh barred owl. sure.
Ivy was extremely hard simply becajse i cant thinj of hwr as a bird. chickadee sounds about right. or maybe woodpecker? yeah no woodpecker. they have about the same color palate (red, black & white. no grey sadly.) not pileated tho she doesnt need to be that big. woodpeckers evolved adaptations to avoid getting brain damage from all the hitting their face into hard objects. redbellied woodpecker methinks perhaps
#the mechanisms#the mechs#this has been semifinished in my drafts for months#kinda just wanted it out#i had a bit about chicken dancing but then realized yall probably dont know what that is#sad for you guys powwows are awesome
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I got inspired by this post to finally mock up the inside of WarlockXeans' ship. Warning, Long Post is Long
Little bit of OC history! Xeans uses a retrofitted FOTC Hawk as their personal ship, they picked it up in the wake of the Red War and spent a few weeks putting it back together in the hanger after everything had been secured and quieted down. Ever since they've been salvaging furnishings from wherever strikes their fancy.
(Image from Bungie's concept art)
Specs list it as 28.35 m x 20.12 m x 10.06 m (L x W x H) so I fudged my numbers a little to assume the pressure hull was 18 x 10 x 9.
I decided a fun way to do this would be to start with the floorplan of a working Redjack carrier, so I spun up Inkarnate and got to work, ending up with this
The fundamental concept is a pretty cramped robot carrier - everything in the center is Redjack rack, there are a handful of jump seats for engineers, a basic work bench, and some replacement rifles. Most of the time I imagine this was crewed by two people. Utilitarian, very much a battle bus.
After a few years of collecting and fitting it out for occasional guests (they're one of the heads of their clan they took it on themselves to have what amounts to an RV - a nice little place to relax in the field for smaller fireteams). They ended up with the current iteration of the Farfarer
Going to start from the entry and move up.
Immediately inside the airlock is the living space and stairs to the upper level. They repurposed the jump seats (with the addition of some extra padding) as chairs across from a screen they found in tact in an old CB facility. The original work bench was kept in place but put against the forward bulkhead, so they or a friend could work on something while staying in the social space. The entry closet is a general cargo space with a few coat racks (shoes are encouraged to go in the space under the stairs) so people don't just dump whatever they're carrying on the seats. The plastone dining table seats three and was found in a small executive suite in the EDZ. The Sentient Gun Terrarium is self explanatory, Xeans constantly felt like Omar needed some time out with some enrichment.
The rear of the lower deck is dominated by everything that needs water cycling. The rear avionics bay is still accessible by removable panels, but it was walled off for looks. The restroom is fully kitted out including a washing machine (which isn't strictly needed given the abilities a guardian has access to, but Xeans insists that washing hadronic weave helps the texture), but it is extremely cramped. The kitchen is small but fully equipped with a dishwasher tucked under the sink. They keep a lot of ramen ingredients on hand but enjoy trying to find out what's edible when they're out and about. The shelf across from the foot of the stairs is a lot of nicknacks they want to show off, there are a few CB executive mugs (they're solid platinum) and some extremely cool rocks they found.
The flight deck is largely untouched, save for the copilot's station being taken over by a pile of guns, jackets and a few other things that Xeans' ghost Lup made for themselves. They tend to stay rez'd during downtime, and they decided it'd be fun to have somewhere soft to burrow down into.
This is the first room anyone enters on the second deck - it's primarily for storage with a small table, it earned the nickname the copilot's station because any time someone flies with them, Lup refuses to let anyone take their nest apart.
This isn't Xeans' primary workspace - their actual lab is a shared space in the halls that the Raven Seal use - but small personal projects and a portable reference library is always useful. The hive magic circle that takes up most of the space is an attempt to weld hive magic and a miniaturized oracle engine. The project hasn't gone anywhere for years, but it clears their head to play with it every so often.
The bedroom takes up the bulk of the second deck - the furnishings are salvaged from a dozen different places, the sheets and mattress from a hotel in orbit around Io, the desk from an Ishtar collective dorm. The books they keep on the ship change, but tend to be long lends from the libraries, a lot of popular fiction with an increasing amount of Eliksni literature (their grip on the language is still rough but they're getting there) Just like the lower deck, the avionics bay is walled off but still accessible.
The overall goal here was a bit of character building, plus I love laying out fictional spaces.
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This is the first time I’ve ever caught you open! Can you send fics of just neil being put through absolute hell. I only need it to be finished and to have a not totally sad ending. Im good with canon post canon and aus so really whatever. Thank you so much I find literally all my fics on your page <3
This kid just can’t catch a break, can he?
There’s plenty of fics we can offer you where Neil doesn’t have a great time (physically or emotionally), just see our list of recs from previous posts. You’ll find more under our raven!neil, dark and angst w/happy ending tags (not all fics in those tags are complete).
Please be aware of the trigger warnings though, due to their nature some of these fics deal with some heavy material.
Hope you’ll find what you’re looking for here! - S
A selection from previous posts:
‘Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner’ and ‘Timeless’ here
‘hawk in the raven nest’ here
‘Take to the Wing’ here
‘Oh Raven’ here
‘Die Free or Die a Failure’ and ‘Night is the Raven, Day is the Fox’ (both completed) here
‘Scared to Live (But I'm Scared to Die)’ (completed) here
‘Not Damsels, Not Knights’ here
‘what it takes to survive’ (completed) here
‘Heartlines’ and ‘This Is What Hollows’ (completed) here
‘If Only I Were Enough’ (completed) and ‘don't break the glass’ (completed) here (part 1 of the glass series)
‘Double Trouble’ series here
‘Out of the Ashes’ series here (Part 1 and 2 completed)
‘Make A Believer Out Of Me’ here
‘what if the butcher hurt neil permanently in baltimore’ here
‘here and where you are’ here
‘Pause and Restart My Heart’ series here
‘The Bones of You’ here
‘and in a flash, it’s gone’ and ‘(don’t fear) the reaper’ here
‘Creatures We Find in the Forest’ here
‘There Now, Steady Love’ and ‘Except When It's No’ here
‘I Hope You Lie To Me’ here
‘The Story After You’ here
‘and you thought i hated you’ here
‘The Morning AUs, Chapter 14: The Bodyguard AU’ here
‘If all else perished, and he remained’ here
‘stifle my choice and the air in my lungs’ here
‘Purple Skies’ here
‘Monsters on the Top Floor’ here
‘The Reaper’ and ‘TALE OF A MARTYR IN XII PARTS’ (both completed) here
‘The Nameless Monster’ here
‘Through our memories, we live’ (completed) and ‘Hold Each Other, Chapter 24-31: Go or Go Ahead’ here
‘Hold Each Other: Chapter 5: The Gun Still Rattles’ here, ‘Chapter 7: Nothing Always Means Something’ here
‘Calling Me Back Once Again’ here
‘Amor Vincit Omnia’ (completed) here
‘Run to You’ here
‘Ghost of You’ here
You may also find something in these posts:
Neil with depression/mental health issues here
Neil attempts suicide here
Christmas at Evermore here
What Lies in Wait by starwarned [Rated M, 23419 words, complete, 2023]
Neil is being haunted — or else he’s losing his mind. All he can hear are the screams echoing in his head. But he and Andrew have made it this far, haven’t they? Can’t they survive a little more? Based on What Lies Beneath.
tw: violence, tw: psychological torture, tw: kidnapping
Pull Up The Ladder When The Flood Comes by WinterFrost250 [Rated M, 3248 words, complete, 2023]
“Neil-” Kevin paused and looked around the room. As if only just realizing they were surrounded by people, he began speaking in vehement French. “I’m sorry Neil I didn’t mean to look, I just-” Kevin glanced down at his phone, “It was just there when I opened it. I’m sorry.” OR Kevin gets sent pictures from an unknown number of Neils's time in Evermore and shit hits the fan.
tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: panic attacks
the boy in the basement by iriswords [Rated M, 3376 words, complete, 2023]
Part 21 of Febuwhump 2023 The Wesninskis are a well-known family in town. A macabre one, with only one survivor: Nathan Wesninski. Every day, Andrew likes to pass in front of the house on his way back home. He observes it distantly, taken over by morbid curiosity. It's how he notices the eyes watching him through the windows of the basement.
tw: violence, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: major character injury, tw: implied/referenced abuse
next best thing by iriswords [Rated M, 1546 words, complete, 2023]
Part 13 of Febuwhump 2023 Mary and Nathaniel are caught by one of Nathan's enemies while they're on the run. Said enemy doesn't have anything against the two of them, but he deeply desires revenge on Nathan. And in the absence of Nathan, he chooses the next best thing.
tw: violence, tw: blood, tw: major character injury
keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?) by phan_taloon [Rated M, 15415 words, complete, 2022, locked]
Except the cool steel felt too much like the cool cement of a dirty basement, it burned and numbed his back too much like- He wasn’t fine. But his meds could fix it. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling down the hall to the bathroom and yanking the cabinet open and grabbing the pill bottle in a fist tight enough to hurt. He shook one of the pretty little pills into his palm and he swallowed it dry. But one wasn’t enough. Or, AU where Neil never met the Foxes, with a little less mafia and a little more pain for Neil when he ends up captured by Nathan for months, and has to deal with the consequences by himself. He ends up in treatment for chronic pain with opioids, and let's just say opioid use is tricky when you're alone and in pain; one thing can lead to another more easily than it seems.
tw: drug addiction, tw: drug overdose, tw: withdrawal, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: vomit
no matter when and where, we'll be alright by jingerhead [Rated M, 11611 words, complete, 2022]
Of all the night’s events, there were only three things that Nathaniel really remembered clearly: the moments before the riots, being questioned by Lola in the car, and watching his father walk down the stairs to the basement. The last thing Nathaniel could remember was the way the light caught the blade of his father’s axe, blinding and terrifying as it was raised towards the ceiling. He couldn’t remember it coming down but it had to one way or another, right?
tw: amputation, tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks
are we whole or just two halves/reaching out to the unknown? by Raphael_Stantiago [Not Rated, 18881 words, complete, Aftg Big Bang 2022]
An informant/defence attorney au, where Neil never left his father and was sucked into the family business, and gave them all up as soon as possible. However, when Neil meets his attorney Andrew, it gets a little more complicated. Cue them falling in love across various court cases, arrests and one on one meetings, all with the threat of witness protection hanging over their heads. NB: fic art by @oliviaillustrations here
tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced violence, tw: dissociation
All Alone, I've Lost the Hope by phan_taloon [Rated T, 6873 words, complete, 2021, locked]
Even now, lying in the cold concrete floor of wherever he is, surrounded by armed men and women, drowsy from a concussion and drugs, and body pulsating in pain from several places, he still doesn’t believe in regret. Even at the face of the bastard in front of him, the cruel smile and the hungry glint of his eyes, he’d always choose to stay. Even if the FBI may have been right to say the Witness Protection Program was the only logical path to choose with so many of his father’s men and allies still out there.
also available on tumblr here and here
tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: kidnapping, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: blood, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: depression
It never comes from your enemies by spectaclesandbooks [Rated T, 19408 words, complete, 2021]
"Name?" "Andrew Minyard," he pushes out through gritted teeth. “Well well well,” the man on the other end sounds amused, smug. Andrew waits for him to continue, his feet pounding against the pavement. “If you’re the one coming to meet me, I have to assume you’ve finally found a way to keep Josten on a leash?” The clink of metal, rough breathing, unseeing blue eyes, panicked pleading. When Andrew doesn’t answer, the Raven presses further. “Either you’ve found a way to keep him subdued or you’re not coming alone like you were told. Which is it, Minyard? I told you what would happen if you didn’t do as you were asked.” “Neil won’t be bothering us,” Andrew spits out, “he’s staying at home for this one.” There’s movement on the other end of the phone, presumably the Raven preparing to leave and come meet him. “Excellent,” he says easily. “That means you and I can conduct our business in peace and no-one gets hurt."
tw: violence, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced self harm
That one party series by Thegaydepression [Rated T, 13872 words, 2 complete works, 2021]
Part 1: Orange (T (we say M), 9237 words)
"Orange is for someone who doesn’t suffocate. But Neil does. He suffocates and he feels it clawing at his throat and beating in his ears and pounding on his chest" ----------------------- Neil thought he was fine, but then he goes to a stupid, loud, bright party. Neil thought he was fine, but he isn't. Not at all.
tw: rape/noncon, tw: violence, tw: panic attacks, tw: depression, tw: anxiety, tw: nightmares, tw: implied/referenced self harm
Part 2: Maybe Orange isn't Suffocating (Not Rated, 4635 words)
A second part to "Orange" ---------------------------------- Andrew is (not) coping Aaron is a surprisingly good brother Neil is not fine
tw: rape/noncon, tw: violence, tw: kidnapping, tw: dissociation, tw: panic attacks,
hold me close (don't let go) by cake_lovin_ace [Rated G, 4123 words, complete, 2021]
Part 2 of weight of a martyr night by night memories of his childhood flooded his mind’s eye, all the things neil had tried his hardest to suppress. all the times he had been hurt; gotten the scars that littered his torso; been betrayed by the very people meant to protect him. it was like reliving everything all over again in vivid technicolor, and when he managed to claw his way out of the maze his mind trapped him in it was all he could do to remain upright and not crumpled on the floor; on the bed instead of hidden below it; dry-cheeked instead of sobbing hysterically. or neil struggles with memories of the past. andrew helps.
tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation
what comes after nightmares by moth_writes [Rated T, 10146 words, complete, Aftg Big Bang 2020]
Father won't accept anything less than the best. Nathaniel shuts his eyes and wills himself to a dreamless sleep. Or at least one without knives and blood and pain. He's not successful, but the next time he wakes it is to an alarm and the sun in his window. It's the best he can hope for. ... Neil falls asleep easily, and he knows he has someone with him to battle the darkness back where it belongs now. Neil is thirty, and he is wrapped in his husband’s arms with two cats purring next to them. He fights his own nightmares, and he has his family at his side to help. He’s home. (Neil's nightmares and what happens after, ages 5-30.)
NB: find art for this fic by @i-did here
tw: graphic descriptions of violence, tw: nightmares, tw: child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture
👑 ROYAL AU WRITING MASTERPOST 👑 by @emry-stars-art [tumblr, 2023]
(especially the posts concerning Neil’s (Abram’s) treatment at Evermore) e.g. Abram’s return from Evermore, Pieces of his recovery, Andrew taking over Abram’s care
👑 ROYAL AU TUMBLR LORE MASTERPOST 👑 by @emry-stars-art [tumblr, 2023] (comprises both text and art posts)
e.g. Abram's brands pt1 / pt2
tw: violence, tw: injuries, tw: scars, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation
“Perhaps you’ll take me out one day — or do I have to make an appointment?” prompt fill by @ravenvsfox [tumblr, 2017]
His morning is a string of disasters that begins with covering the ER in the Sunday rush of hypochondriac elderly and fussy children. It’s one long stretch of kicked over paint buckets, a mess you can’t ignore, splattering the walls and getting on his shoes.
Art
andreil post-baltimore by @intradaya
It’s over. You’re going to be okay. We’ve got you. by @rainbowd00dles
"All that time fighting and you never learned how to duck?" by @rainbowd00dles
Sunrise, Abram, death: these are truths. by @boydsjosten
Neil Josten art by @runningwithhellhounds
Neil & Wymack after Evermore comic by @rijirain
Neil in the Wymack’s bathroom after winter holidays art by @eggpy
“Help me,” “Let me” by @rainbowd00dles
And if you make it out alive, hold that bloody head up high art by @pearsfears
I’m fine art by @laurafromnowhere
Nathaniel/Neil gif by @queen-of-perplexity
hurt Neil by @rhyva
#fic#neil josten/andrew minyard#neil josten & the foxes#betsy dobson & neil josten#mary hatford & neil josten#aaron minyard & neil josten#kevin day & neil josten#universe: pre canon#universe: canon divergent#universe: post canon#au: different first meeting#au: other sports#au: law#au: witsec#au: royalty#theme: angst with a happy ending#theme: hurt/comfort#theme: emotional hurt/comfort#theme: protectiveness#theme: injuries#aftg big bang#aftg reverse big bang#tw: violence#tw: rape/noncon#tw: suicidal thoughts#tw: abuse#tw: torture#tw: dissociation#tw: panic attacks#tw: kidnapping
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Some Birbs I Saw
I think these are cormorants, but I'm not 100% sure right this moment... they seem to like showing off for the cameras though!
A snowy egret. Very beautiful and elegant, its brilliant white plumage a stark contrast to its surroundings.
A golden eagle's nest spotted on a cliff in Yosemite National Park. Sadly, no sightings of its occupant(s).
Steller's jays - so striking and bold! They're really not shy of humans in the slightest, which is just as well because they are very pretty to look at with their black and blue colouration.
A close encounter with a Common Raven in Yosemite. This fella's much larger than any crow I've seen in England! I was also lucky enough to see one of these guys drive a hawk out of its territory, but my picture-taking skills aren't quite up to the task of capturing such split-second events!
And here's the one, the only, San Franscis-cro. (don't boo it's a good pun)
I really wish I could have gotten some closer photos but there's only so much you can do with a camera phone from the early 2010s, sadly. Sorry if the quality on some of these isn't so good, but I was really excited to see so many different types of birb and wanted to snap/share as many as I could!
Not pictured here - hummingbirds (they just won't stay still!) herons, pelicans, hawks and pigeons. Lots and lots of pigeons.
#rambling#my photography#birds#san franscisco#comorant#snowy egret#common raven#american crow#golden eagle#(well a nest at any rate)
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Author!Dabi; Part Two
Part One here!
.
Dabi pretended to forget about the book after a while. Hawks never really brought it up again, though Dabi caught him reading it every now and then.
Sometimes he called Dabi "Raven," to which Dabi replied, "Songbird," but that was it. He never confirmed or denied that it was his book, that he wrote, that contained dozens of poems that were dedicated to his hero. He didn't want to, nor did he need to, so he didn't say anything when he spotted even more books by T. T. Arrow show up on Hawks' bookshelf.
He did watch, though. Watched as the first book- Starless Night and Other Poems- was read again, and again, and again. Dabi watched the spine crack, the page corners get dog-eared, the dustcover begin to tear at the edges.
All from repeated rereads.
"Read any good books lately?" He asked Hawks casually as he saw the hero glancing at the worn tome again.
Hawks hummed, smiling to himself. "Yeah, been thinking about rereading my favorite, though."
His favorite. Not even the five stars and essay-length, raving reviews from critics gave Dabi the same warm, fluttery feeling as that simple statement.
Finally, on a rainy afternoon that had him cooped up in Hawks' apartment while the hero was napping, Dabi got up and approached the bookshelf. He tipped the book towards himself with a finger and pulled it out of its place, carrying it with both hands back to the couch.
He retook his seat and flipped it open, searching the front page for… something. A sign, maybe. A reason, an explanation as to why it was Hawks' favorite.
The pages whispered against each other as he turned to the first poem; Mountainside of Embers was the title. His eyes completely passed over the printed words, so nearly packed into their stanzas, as they zeroed in on the messy scrawls along the sides.
"I'm so sorry." It was written in Hawks' slanted, curly handwriting, next to the paragraph lamenting how hard it was to breathe with lungs full of ash.
"I would have dug you out of the ashes and carried you home." Was scribbled at the end, that compared the mountainside to a graveyard for a single child.
Dabi flipped to another poem quickly; Sleepyhead.
"I wouldn't have left your side." Hawks' pen strokes promised next to the story of a sleeping, yet lonely boy.
"And he woke alone, so alone. Second, he thought of hunger, but firstly thought of home."
The whole line was highlighted, underlined, with a scrawled note beside it: "Come home with me!"
That fluttering back in his stomach, Dabi turned the pages with trembling fingers. Poem after poem was highlighted, underlined, scribbled, and doodled by. Notes and comments filled the margins, filled Dabi's vision and chest.
He turned to the first poem he'd written for Hawks, Origami Butterflies, and quickly scanned to one of the middle stanzas:
"Take my sharp edges and fold me together. Make me something beautiful, something that lasts forever. Tuck me safe into your pocket, Into your heart, into your bag, or your locket. Cradle me in work-worn hands, Promise never to let go again."
Next to it, in red ink and in all capital letters, Hawks wrote, "I PROMISE!"
Swallowing against the tightness in his throat now, Dabi looked through a few more before he finally dared himself to look at their poem, Cage of Bone.
The first page was blank.
As was the second.
The third page, where the story of the raven and the songbird ended, only had a single note by the final stanza:
"Begging forgiveness, as towards dawn they flew, The raven sobbed, "I love you, I love you, I love you.""
The poem ended there, in black, printed ink. But the note, written in blue, added on:
"The song bird settled into raven's chest, into his cage, into his nest, And began to sing into the sunrise, "It's alright, raven, dry your eyes. I am swift, and I am strong, And it was always you who heard my song. My wings do ache, my back is sore, So I will rest with you a little more.
Don't weep, dear raven, for you see, When I'm in here, I am free. I will stay in this cage of bone, So you and I are not alone.
Be my wings, and I'll be your heart, Because from you, dear raven, I wish never to part. So you start the song, and I take my cue, To sing on for forever, "I love you, I love you, I love you, too.""
Dabi closed the book like it would fall apart in his hands, carrying back to the shelf and slotting it into its place with the reverence due a holy scripture.
Wiping the blood from his cheeks, he headed for the bedroom, to do just as his songbird, his heart, had said.
He never fully figured out why it was Hawks' favorite book. But when he looked down at his hero, asleep, his head on Dabi's chest, he realized he didn't need to.
Not when the sound of their heartbeats, the sound of their breathing, the sound of Hawks' wings fluttering and the sheets shuffling and bloody tears pattering off Dabi's chin-
Not when they made a symphony, a song, all their own, that sang more than a raven and songbird ever could.
End.
#conans writing#dabihawks#dabi#hawks#keigo takami#touya todoroki#mha dabi#toukei#mha hawks#bnha hawks#bnha dabi#long post#poetry
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Remember to read about the contestants before voting!
Harris's Hawk
The Harris’s hawk is one we’ve seen on this blog before. They’re a very social hawk, often hunting and nesting in groups. They have even been known to come to one another’s aid if they got injured. Three hawks is the usual number for a nest, with one female and two males assisting raising the chicks. Learn More!
Common Raven
The common raven is a very smart bird. They have even been found to be drawn to gunshot sounds, as they know hunters will often kill animals. People have always been fascinated by ravens, and in London it’s said that if the ravens of London tower ever leave the whole British empire will crumble! They’re also seen as tricksters in Pacific Northwest Native American tribes. In one myth, they are told to have brought fire to people by stealing the sun. Learn More! Much More
(Harris's Hawk photo by Adam Jackson) (Common Raven photo by Christopher Lindsey)
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Some og storm hawks headcannons
plus a bonus Raven in the corner
Grouse and Raven had the same resting bitch face
Jay studied to be an entomologist, but then figured he had a better chance of finding new bugs as a Sky Knight
Maggie was the second youngest, being two years older than Raven
Dark Ace restyled his hair to make it look a bit similar to Maggie's when it got long enough
Most of the group had a somewhat normal laugh, except for Maggie and Jay, who always sounded like dying seals (Think this video)
Grouse couldn't read small print for the life of him
Out of everyone, Raven is the best with kids
He and Axel also tended to build 'nests' and sleep in them when they were younger
Axel would always make sure he was a 'safe space,' no matter who would interact with him
Maggie would always spoil Aerrow when he was a baby
Grouse, Jay, and Axel were always SUPER careful with him, however, considering how teeny he was
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Chapter One: A Canary’s Song
We meet the main cast of the story; the Canaries!
To read the tumblr version, check under the read more!
The sea was dangerous, but humans could conquer the seas.
Ships hardened by metal and wielding powerful equipment could ward off the beasts, and each day the waters were tamed by powerful hunters. Hunters welcomed people from all classes, sorting themselves into different crews and factions with their own requirements and status. There were hunters who killed frequently, taking down multiple smaller beasts, hunters who took on larger and more imposing beasts but had a lesser kill count, and hunters who strove for a middle ground. None of these hunters or factions could compare to those in the employ of the king himself.
The Canaries were one such group of hunters.
“Beast in sight!”
From the waters rose a gigantic turtle-like beast with a set of large jaws and spikes that lined the edge of its scutes. Its yellow eyes pierced out of the oceanic depths, focusing on the hunters as it let out a bellowing roar. It swam towards the hunting ship as its flippers propelled the beast forward, creating waves that slapped against the side of the ship, rocking it back and forth.
A man with raven black hair and a mustache observed the creature with his telescope as it barreled forward, “It’s a class B, boneback! Aim for the exposed flesh, watch out for the scutes!” As if on command, the scutes on the boneback’s shell rose from its back and fired, creating dents on the ship’s metal plating.
Mumbo raised an eyebrow and chuckled, turning to his captain, Grian, a man with dirty blonde hair with a hat holding three parrot feathers. “It’s going to keep firing. I think we tire it out, then we strike back.”
His captain smiled in return, nodding, “Sounds like a plan. Alright everyone, you heard Mumbo, let’s get this ship moving!” The sounds of engines roared, shifting from a slower idle state to a higher gear. The whole ship came to life with the ground rumbling under them. The boneback growled as the hunters sped across the sea.
Grian turned to his brother, Joel, “Hm, ‘might be best if we get those cannons going.”
“I know that, Grian,” Joel rolled his eyes, noticing Scar loading his crossbow from the crow’s nest. Even without direction, the man knew what he was going to do. Joel grinned, calling up to him, “Give ‘em what you got, Scar! Join in on the fun!”
Scar’s smile was infectious, his excitable energy reaching the crew on the deck, “I have you covered! Hawk-eye!” Iron bolts shot out from the weapon, striking the boneback’s shell as it groaned in pain.
“I got an idea!” a voice piped up over the noise the fight caused.
Bdubs hefted a barrel in his arms, heaving as he attempted to run along the deck. He nearly stumbled, almost lost his footing before another set of hands joined him on the barrel. Cleo, one of his best friends, gave her crewmate a grin as she raised an eyebrow. “A stupid one, I’d bet.”
The white haired man grinned as the two hoisted the barrel of gunpowder together, their crewmates watching on. Cleo glanced at Lizzie, “Turn the ship around, Lizzie! We need a clear shot for this sucker.”
A woman with long, pink hair stood at the helm, locking eyes with Cleo as she gave her a shrug and a smile. Lizzie rolled her eyes, “On it!” The boat rocked as Lizzie made a sharp turn, barrels and boxes sliding towards the opposite side with the engine roaring.
Joel, Grian, and Mumbo were mounted on the cannons. Joel grinned manically, “Fire!”
The boneback groaned as the firearms began to hit the fragile spots of its shell, too exposed with all its scutes gone. It tucked its head into its shell before slamming against the hull. A loud resonating noise rumbled across the ship as the metal dented. The ship dashed through the water, the boneback growled as the hunters glanced to see its head duck out, turning around and charging towards them.
The boneback roared, mouth opening wide as Cleo and Bdubs threw the barrel into its open maw.
Bdubs pulled a gun out from his belt, grinning, “Got you now, beast!”
“Get down!” Martyn’s sudden shout alerted the crew as he ran from the lower deck. Bdubs raised his gun in the air.
Martyn’s eyes focused on the beast and he grinned. He dashed towards Cleo and Bdubs, hearing the beast. Martyn crashed into Bdubs, taking the shot at the boneback while the white haired man was still in shock.
The explosion was bright and blinding. There was a split second for the Canaries to shut their eyes and brace for the blow, the loud bang filling their ears. The shock rattled the ship sideways and their ears rang with white noise.
The beast cried out in pain, smoke and blood pouring out of its gaping maw. Its body jerked before collapsing. There was a brief moment of white noise lingering in the hunters’ ears before the sounds of the calm ocean flooded back in.
Lizzie had shut off the engine, the gentle swaying waves brushed against the sides of the ship. “Tie it up,” Lizzie said, “Let’s head home!”
Joel placed his hand on Cleo’s back, “Come on, Cleo. Help me out with the rope; tie it to the ship.” They nodded, grabbing several thick ropes and handing them to Joel, the man jumping down on the beast’s head to wrap the ropes around its neck.
He fastened the ropes together with a hard knot before approaching the cracked soft shell. Bonebacks would use their hard scutes to fire, but once they’re out of scutes the shell was entirely soft and exposed to cracks. Joel saw a small, malformed scute near the boneback’s head and pried it out with his sword.
Bdubs groaned. He threw his arms up, tapping his foot as he huffed at the blonde who knocked him over, “Aw come on, Martyn! What was that for?!”
Martyn chuckled, scratching his head with a shrug, “Sorry ‘dubs, the adrenaline rush got to me.” Bdubs rolled his eyes, clearly not amused, but Martyn sure was.
Joel used the rope to climb back, the scute pinned between his arm and chest. Cleo grabbed his arm and pulled him back onto the ship.
“Thanks.” Joel smiled, swinging his legs over the ship’s railing and landing on the deck. She had already finished tying the ropes to the back of the ship, allowing them to drag the carcass behind them. Cleo nodded in return, a small smile crept up on their face.
Mumbo elbowed Martyn’s shoulder, “Say that when you were more involved in the fight.” He straightened out his red cravat, dusting off any dirt on his clothes. “Where even were you?”
Joel approached the commotion, holding the scute. “Why are we suddenly questioning him? Martyn contributed to the fight at least.” Bdubs rolled his eyes.
“But that was my plan!” Bdubs crossed his arms. Martyn patted the man’s back, Bdubs sighed.
“You’ll get it next time, promise!” Martyn looked at Bdubs, smiling as the man furrowed his eyebrows. He was sorry! He didn’t want to miss out on a fight. Martyn scratched the back of his head, “I was just… busy.”
Bdubs glanced at Martyn, raising an eyebrow, “Busy with what?”
Martyn let out a noncommittal hum in response, eyes darting away from the crew. Grian smirked, raising his eyebrows, “Busy on the lower deck, lost in his head daydreaming about him again.” Martyn’s face flushed burning red, raising his hands defensively raising his hands. There was a glint in everyone’s eyes. Martyn hesitated, thinking of something to say, “I- I wasn’t! I was–”
Grian laughed, causing Martyn’s face to flush an even brighter red. Joel gently nudged his shoulder with a grin, “It’s fine, loverboy. We’re going home after this. The king’s expecting us this afternoon, so you’ll see him again.”
See him again.
The thought made Martyn’s heart do all sorts of backflips. Something about him was so- so enchanting, Martyn couldn’t stand the wait to see him again. What he could stand to wait for, however, was his crew openly joking about this. He loved them, but they got on his nerves sometimes.
Martyn covered his face, letting out a sigh, “Joel– ugh. This isn’t funny.”
Martyn could hear Lizzie laugh from the rear end of the ship, “It’s funny to us, Martyn! You get so worked up over it too!” It couldn’t be that obvious, could it?
Martyn’s mysterious ‘him’ was the beautiful Scott Major.
Scott always greeted the hunters with a smile, welcoming and encouraging them to talk about their month on the savage seas. He was a friendly, bubbly guy, and his tavern was always open to those who wanted a place to drink and have a good time.
How Scott acted towards Martyn, however, was a different story.
Scott loved to talk to the Canaries, but to Martyn? Scott winked, playfully nudged, and said things Martyn knew he wouldn’t say to anyone else unless Scott thought they were attractive. God, Scott was flirting with him, and he was falling for every single line.
Martyn adored Scott right back, doing everything he could to flirt back or to talk to him, and this back and forth has been going on for months.
Maybe it was the way Martyn was constantly smiling at the thought of him, or how much his heart raced whenever they came close to shore that made his feelings so obvious to the others. It was probably a bad idea to fall for a guy adamant about remaining on land, but Martyn, mostly, didn’t care.
Martyn shook his head. ‘Best to think of something else for now,’ he told himself, ‘Don’t even think of telling the others how, for a good chunk of time now, you’ve been drawing him in your sketchbook.’
Nope. Definitely do not tell them that.
What were they doing now? Oh, right. They were going home. Meeting the king.
Every end of the month, the Canaries would return with trophies from beasts they’d previously slain and the body of their final hunt. Trophies were to be rewarded with gold and wealth, while the bodies were used for further research into weaponsmithing.
The hunters dispersed into their little groups to relax as the ship sailed back to the kingdom, the engine humming along the waters. Martyn took a glance at Mumbo, writing in his journal. “Writing the gunpowder barrel trick into your notes?” Martyn asked.
Mumbo perked up, snapping his journal shut as he finished, “Of course. Can’t have any killing method go undocumented.” Mumbo was the ship’s analyst and mechanic, and someone Martyn often found himself around. The two would have a calm air of silence as they respectively wrote or drew in their own notebooks. Mumbo had the specific task of documenting the Canaries’ kills and ways they did it, along with any significant change in patterns or behaviors the monsters exhibited. It was always better to be safe than sorry.
Mumbo hummed, “Though it might be best if we don’t use that often. A whole barrel of gunpowder? Just wasted like that? There has got to be a better way to conserve resources...” His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he rested his hand on his chin, mumbling away under his breath.
Best not to disturb him. Martyn tilted his head away, signaling to Mumbo that he’d be leaving. Mumbo’s eyes focused on him for a moment and he nodded.
Cleo, Scar, and Bdubs were off on one side of the deck talking about something, their laughter loud and hearty. Joel had joined Lizzie by the steering wheel, leaving Grian by himself to stare out into the ocean. Martyn sighed. Grian shouldn’t be left staring at the ocean for too long.
He approached the captain, a small smile on his face, “Grian?” he called out just before he got there. The captain flinched, turning around to look at Martyn with his shoulders raised before a sigh escaped him and he deflated. Martyn tilted his head, “Am I.. intruding?”
Grian shook his head, “No, you’re fine. Just… thinking.” Grian tried to force a smile, but his shoulders dropped as he stared outwards again.
Martyn glanced at Grian as he stood beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Thinking about… Jimmy?”
Jimmy Solidarity, Grian and Joel’s older brother, was dead. Been dead for a while.
Martyn silently wished he had been there for them when it happened, but he hadn’t been. It was a difficult situation and he hoped he was doing good by being there for them now.
Grian crossed his arms, “It’s just not right. He can’t be dead. It’s just…”
It was commonplace for Grian to be a bit of a trickster, impressively cunning with an edge of playfulness on the side. He was a fun-loving guy, surprising the crew with pranks and messing with them using jokes and mischievously taking items from a person before returning it with a snarky remark. So seeing this side of their captain hurt. They’d all seen glimpses of it, but Martyn was sure he’d seen more of Grian’s pain than anyone else, save for maybe Joel and Lizzie.
“The ocean’s demons took so much from us,” Martyn hissed, his eyes narrowed. Grian sighed. Martyn turned to his captain, “We’ve all lost people out here.”
Too many important people die out in these waters.
Martyn rubbed Grian’s back, “You’ll find the monster that did it, I know you will.”
Grian shot a glance at Martyn, a smile tugging at his face. “We’ll find out what beast did it, and tear its heart out.” That was a promise.
“And you will,” Martyn nodded, raising an eyebrow, “Leave some of the beast open for the rest of us, though. Everyone on this ship wants a piece out of it too.”
Grian let out a snort, nudging Martyn away with a grin, “We’ll try, but no promises.” Martyn rolled his eyes. At least he was feeling better now. The two shared a laugh as they looked out over the open sea together.
Something caught Martyn’s eyes. He raised his hand to his forehead to block out the sun from hitting his eyes as he leaned in over the railing. “Patrol ships. We should hand this haul over to them.”
Grian nodded, placing his hands on the sides of his mouth to shout down to the crew still on deck, “Untie the beast! They’ll take it from here.”
The whirr of engines rolled closer as the ships approached. The sounds died down as the vessels slowed upon seeing the hunting ship. Two ships sailed in from either side, hailing to the Canaries. “Oh, hunters! What joy it is to see you all alive and well,” the captain on the right beamed, “Wretched thing you got back there!”
“You know it! This isn’t even the biggest we’ve fought,” Joel grinned with a smug look on his face. He shrugged, “Or the most dangerous.”
The captain nodded, “Ah. Your ship must be all tuckered out for the month, then.”
“All tuckered out and ready for proper repairs,” Joel nodded back. He looked at the body of the boneback, “We’re turning in now and getting ready for the next month. I’m sure those researchers are going to enjoy dissecting this one. You can handle taking this back, right?” He gestured to the creature.
The captain laughed, “Ay, I’ll bet! It must be proper beaten then, with you lot being the king’s hunters and all.”
The Canaries were proud hunters. On top of being hunters personally employed by the king, they were out on the wild seas most of the time, so they always brought home many trophies within the span of a month.
“We’ll take it from here, lads.” The captain gave a small salute towards Joel.
The captain looked at the sky, checking the time, “Judging by the sun’s spot in the sky, the king’s court should be over in a couple of hours, so you made it just in time. Welcome home, Canaries!”
The two ships sailed past the Canaries and tied the carcass of the boneback to their stern, sailing away with it. The Canaries’ ship’s engine shut off as the sails came down, the wind blowing inland. Lizzie maneuvered the ship, steering it towards the main gates. Joel approached Martyn and Grian, who smiled upon his arrival.
Mumbo approached where Martyn, Grian, and Joel were standing by the railing, his face scrunched up as he watched the body of the beast get dragged away. “I was looking through my notes earlier.” He opened his journal and flipped to the page for the turtle-like monster. It was full of notes and scribbles of its anatomy, weak points, size charts, and some illegible handwritten notes. Mumbo pointed at one of the notes, “It says here that bonebacks only attack in warmer weathers. It’s the beginning of autumn,” he fidgeted with his notebook, “So this boneback is far too active for this time of year, it’s supposed to be preparing for hibernation.”
Right, winter was on its way. Once the ice freezes over island shores, hunters were to remain on land until the ice thawed and the temperature no longer deathly cold. Those were always the weirdest months. No salty sea air, no adrenaline-inducing monster fights, none of that. Only the cold weather, snowfall, and the chance to catch up on sleep. Other hunters enjoyed the winter because of it, engaging in their own hobbies or going off to do anything else, but not Martyn. Martyn would rather be out there on the waters fighting monsters than being stuck on an island for months! Hunting to him was like an itch to be satisfied, and not hunting made the itch unbearable.
One thought lingered in his mind, however; what if he spent the winter with Scott?
Scott definitely enjoyed his company, and did constantly tease Martyn about his lacking presence in his life. It could be possible. It’d give him something to do other than sulk around or continue to train.
Hunting was an essential part of his life, he didn’t know who he was without it. Hunting made him alive. It gave him a passion. His parents raised him into being the best hunter, and he hoped it showed.
Martyn’s eyes darted around until he noticed Mumbo waving at him. “Martyn? Martyn, are you listening?”
Martyn blinked rapidly, shaking his head, “Wha– sorry, I wasn’t. I remember you mentioning the boneback strikes in warmer waters?”
Mumbo tilted his head and hummed. He glanced at his journal, his eyebrows furrowed as he frowned. “It’s worrying. Maybe it’s a change in territory location, or new behavior in general. We’ll have to look out for these types of changes. I’m not sure what it means yet.” He closed his journal, shrugging.
Monsters act weird all the time. They’re monsters.
It’s hard to understand what isn’t supposed to be understood. Maybe it’s some weird behavior quirk, or maybe it's… but why wouldn’t they just attack the ship instead of sending monsters? Martyn waved the thought away.
—————
The ship rocked slowly as they passed through the stream, Martyn was with Lizzie as she held the steering wheel. It had been a comfortable ride without any monster attacks. The beasts live in the salty deep ocean, so there was nothing dangerous here, nothing but fish for people to catch and eat. Pure bliss.
Lizzie looked at Martyn, “Do you have any plans for winter?”
Martyn paused. He did think of spending time with Scott, but he didn’t ask yet. He shook his head, “No, not really. I was hoping I could just sleep the whole winter away, hibernate or something.” He shrugged, “...Maybe I’ll ask Scott out or something. It’s been eating at me.”
Lizzie let out a little chuckle. Martyn blushed and crossed his arms. She smiled at him, “You should! Sooner is better than later.” Martyn was silent, unsure of how to answer. Lizzie raised an eyebrow at him, a small blush rising to her cheeks, “I crushed on Joel for a while before he confessed to me. Maybe Scott’s waiting for you to make the first move.”
“Is- is he? No- no, no that’d be stupid,” Martyn blushed. He could hear Lizzie’s laugh. He looked away, “I- I’m not- I’m not sure I’m ready yet.” He shook his head with a sigh.
“I understand. Things like this are a serious commitment.” Lizzie looked at her engagement ring.
Martyn felt all warm and fuzzy whenever Lizzie or Joel showed off their rings. They were planning on getting married soon, the date wasn’t set but they were planning it during the winter. That was probably why she asked Martyn if he was doing anything. He didn’t dwell on it.
Lizzie glanced down to where Joel was talking to Scar and Bdubs before their eyes made contact. Joel grinned and waved at her, causing Lizzie to give a small wave back with a little giggle.
She continued to stare at her ring then looked at Joel again. A wistful sigh escaped her, Lizzie catching Martyn off guard with a quick hug, “Don’t rush it. There’s going to be a time and place when both of you will be ready to take the world on together, you just need to wait for the right moment.”
While Lizzie loved to join in on the teasing, the advice she’d give was a constant reassurance.
Martyn placed his hand on top of Lizzie’s. “Thank you, Liz.”
“Anytime,” Lizzie grinned, “It looks like we’re here!”
Before them was a huge gate, walls adorning the sides as layers of steel and nets lowered to provide an entrance to the hunters. They could see the sprawling port town in front of them, and far from here, past the forests and mountains, was the kingdom proper.
The town was nothing too spectacular. It had concrete walls and flooring, and buildings made with different types of stone and wood stood near the entrance. Market stalls were set up in various places of the entrance as the town went further and further in. A forest separated the town from the castle town and rivers sprawled out into the waters.
Martyn glanced at Lizzie as she gave him a smirk. “Can’t leave him waiting, can you?”
They were here.
The ship was docked to one of the ports. Scar laid down the gangplank to connect them to solid ground once more. Scar grinned, spreading his arms out to the crowd, “We have returned!”
The citizens of the port lit up in cheers as they disembarked the ship. Martyn breathed a sigh of relief. Once again, they had made it back in one piece, as always.
Grian approached Martyn, jerking his head towards the town, “Go ahead. We got things covered here. The carriage should be around soon, and we’ll have the others lift the trophies.”
“Get out of here, loverboy!” Joel laughed, giving Martyn a push from the gangplank.
Martyn can hear the other Canaries shouting at him, all friendly and encouraging, but stupidly embarrassing for him. “Go on, Martyn! Tell him we said hi!” “Kiss him already!” “Don’t be stupid!”
Martyn rolled his eyes, fully aware of the blush on his face. “Alright, alright! Jeez!” he laughed, shaking his head as he began a run towards the tavern he and his huntermates were all too familiar with.
He wanted to hear Scott’s laugh again. See his eyes again. See his smile. He wanted to see Scott.
He can’t wait to see Scott again.
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