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alexanderflowerbird · 1 month ago

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Hey I am writin' shit have a look at some of it yippeeeee lol Taglist: @theskeletonprior @tragedycoded @badscientist @thelittlestspider

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Mercedes is relieved to be out of the house. She knows that when she comes home her momma will pretend like she wasn’t angry about the plate, that they’ll act like it never happened, and while it will sting for her far longer than it will for her mother, the sting will fade too, with time. Taking Buttercup out for a ride into town is always a nice time, she’s a well mannered horse, and unlike some of the other horses they keep on their land, Buttercup isn’t afraid of the monsters unless they act scary. She’s fast, not so fast that she might outrun the more voracious monsters on the territory, but fast enough that she’s gotten Mercedes out of trouble plenty of times. Mercedes knows the way to town by heart, even if the road isn’t anywhere near by and the only paths are recognizable to the people whose horses pounded the dirt out to make them.

She wants to take a little detour, and she knows she won’t get in any trouble for it because it’s early in the day and she’s got plenty of time to do all her mother asked, to get new plates, have icecream, see Chaswhi, and come back home. She wants to go see if she can finally get the Ishmael beast to let her close. Her mother would kill her for her… extracurricular interest, but what her mother doesn’t know won’t get her screamed at for thirty minutes and sent to her room. The monsters that wander the territory were once vicious, endlessly hungry beasts that hunted the people they loved like prey, but after a while most of them calm down and keep regular loops for grazing and shade and running, like animals more than anything else. Ishmael is a stubborn old goat, goat-ish, almost goat, at least in that his head is that of a goat with long, double wound horns and huge eyes that have slitted, sideways pupils.

He is unlike anything she’s seen in the books Felina lets her read about animals around the world, but still familiar in that his body, like many of the monsters, is a combination of many things. He has the head of a goat with eyes too big and bulbous, hind legs that are hoofed like horse hooves and have long, shaggy trails of fur on the hinds and a long, scaly tail that ends in a tuft of fur he uses to swat flies away like horses do. The strangest parts of him are his front arms, which make no sense physiologically, but are a perfect example of the strange ways nature on the territory can express itself, producing creatures and plants that ought to defy nature, but are, in that way, supernatural, extra natural even. His arms are furry, but they are… Mercedes knows the word, but it’s always hard to remember. She calls them prayer arms, because she sees them most often on the red and brown mantises that are common in the more arid blots of wild. Raptorials, is the word. He walks on them, on the bladed, jagged points of them, and it is very creepy to look at, at first, but now Mercedes is mostly used to it. It’s still scary when he gets upset and starts to chase her, screaming and kicking up dust, those bladed arms scoring the earth as he runs, swiping out fast to try and catch the heels of her horse as she flees him, but when she finds him out on his own? He’s usually grazing or sunbathing or drinking water peacefully. It’s just Ishmael. It’s not so bad. He’s not so bad.

She knows where to go looking for him, so she cuts through the brush and urges Buttercup into the glades that are creeping open from the side of the beaten path, swallowing up the dust and sand to replace it with wet, plush, swampy earth. That’s another oddness one just gets used to, having grown up in this place. It’s like the desert and the swamplands on either side of the territory have joined together, sometimes merging to make something new, other times fighting for space like one day one or the other biome might conquer the whole area. The marsh is a little hard for Buttercup to walk on, but she’s brave and steady as Mercedes urges her on, and when they find Ishmael, sharpening one of his horns by scoring it’s curved up end on a tree, she doesn’t get antsy and shifty under Mercedes.

“It’s just me and Buttercup, Ishmael,” Mercedes says gently, stopping Buttercup at a distance, speaking loudly and sweetly to alert the Ishmael beast that she’s nearby. Scaring him is never a good idea, she’s learned that the hard way and almost got caught by her mother about it, having been injured and having to hide it for a few weeks. She’d managed not to get caught, but the many times Felina had looked at her with dark, narrowed eyes of suspicion had made her much more cautious when she attempts these interactions, with the Ishmael beast or any other she happens upon when she’s out alone. Even Tripsy can get upset sometimes, as rare as it is. With her injured leg she’s not very fast, but once she’d snapped her teeth at Mercedes for trying to see what had happened to her leg up close, so Mercedes knows not to be too careless, no matter how docile the monsters seem.

“I just wanted to see how you were, today. Are you making your horns nice and sharp? They look very good.” She says conversationally. The Ishmael beast doesn’t acknowledge her at first, still grating its horn against the tree before lifting one of its strange, insectoid legs to scratch at the bark with the same intent to sharpen. Mercedes knows that it’s heard her because its ear has turned her way, flicking once but keeping the cone pointed in her direction as it continues to groom. Mercedes considers her strategy— she doesn’t think that Ishmael sharpening its protective limbs is as menacing as an adult might find it, it’s just a way to pass the time, an instinct the Ishmael beast must have picked up after it was done raging and chasing its loved ones, whoever they were. Ishmael had turned before she was old enough to understand, even though Felina had explained it to her some. Felina never had much patience for follow up questions and Mercedes knows that her momma prefers to show and not tell. She can’t really show, not safely, not with the beasts when they turn from people into ravenous monsters under the blood sun, so Mercedes has learned much about the beasts all on her own. It’s a good sign that Ishmael hasn’t started huffing and wailing, working up to the screeching he does when she’s tested his patience too much. She tries not to be too hopeful, but it’s hard.

She could get off her horse and approach, but if Ishmael gets upset and decides to attack, he’s too big to get away from safely. She could urge Buttercup closer and see if he reacts, but if he moves too fast, or starts to scream, Buttercup will spook. Even if she’s a braver horse than most, any animal with a desire to live would flinch at the piercing, humanoid screams that come out of Ishmael when he’s had enough of Mercedes trying to make friends with him. Mercedes decides to urge her horse forward instead of getting off— with his horns and claws extra sharp, it’s best not to give him a reason to test them on her. Ishmael turns his head, his bulbous eye regarding her, yellow like the sun with a black slice cut through it.

“I’m not going to hurt you any, Ishmael,” She says gently, watching the bulk of his body, the way he moves, the thick, red and black hair along his back. When he’s starting to get irritated it fluffs up and makes him look even bigger than he already is. He’s not as big as some of the other beasts, dwarfed by Cassie and Seneca, but he’s bigger than her horse, bigger than any horse and tall with his strange arms tipping the front of his body up higher than his hind half. The Ishmael beast huffs hard through his nose and clicks his teeth together, grinding them like he’s chewing cud, before turning back to the tree, tipping his head to deal with his other horn. A few of the trees have been scored and gouged… while this is the first time she’s seen him do this, she has recognized the gouged trees as an indicator of his presence. It’s exciting to learn this about him, to learn something new about how he lives now that his existence has become a quieter one. She isn’t sure why her inclination is to tell him that she won’t hurt him— it’s a hundred times more likely that he will hurt her, but she can’t help but follow her instincts and try and soothe him, like he must be scared of her, must be terrified of letting a human close to him. Mercedes has wondered about that more than once, especially with all the varying temperaments of the monsters on the territory. Ishmael won’t let people near him generally, she’s gotten closer than anyone in town as far as she knows, but he won’t start screaming and fighting until she’s close enough to touch him.

Tripsy is far sweeter and Mercedes has spent plenty of evenings and early mornings resting against the bulk of her side, relaxing into her body warmth while she lays in a grove of grass or laughing while she flips herself over and dusts her body with sand, kicking her odd, hand-ended legs in the air comically. Cassie is too dangerous to get close to, but she likes the roads, like chasing fast cars and bikers and leaping with her talons poised to snatch like the bird of prey she most resembles. Mercedes has seen Cassie before at a distance, has seen those hawkish eyes track her, and she knows from one of the town hall meetings that the best thing to do when she’s got an eye on you is to slow down and walk, to resist the fear of being chased by her strong legs, torn by her beak, and to slowly, carefully move away until she loses interest. The Seneca beast is a whole other matter… Seneca is actually a monster.

The beasts have hurt people, killed people even, and they’ve done so after they’ve calmed down in some cases, but none so prolifically as the Seneca beast. Mercedes doesn’t think any of the beasts deserve to die for being what they are, that surely they can be better understood just like any of the ever changing wild life on the territory, but Seneca puts a bad feeling in her stomach and a poison in her heart when she and her mother go to the town meetings and see all the people who have faced it and lost a limb or when with their eyes down cast and choked with a fog of grief, the adults of the town discuss the loss of someone who was caught up by the Seneca beast and eaten alive. She supposes it’s normal in a way, to feel angry, protective, prepared to consider violent options even if it makes her feel bad and uncomfortable in her own skin… Felina has no problem with it; her momma won’t hesitate to take the shot gun she has in the house out of its safety case and haul it out onto the porch to show any threat to their home she means business. A few gun shots in the air will send off some of the more gentle beasts, startling them and urging them to gallop or slither or stomp away. Mercedes knows the bullets don’t do anything to the beasts and Felina does too, but the beasts don’t seem to know, or maybe they do and it’s just the loud, unexpected sound blasting through the far reaching quiet of their land that gets them to tuck tail and run. That’s how Mercedes had first seen Ishmael, in fact.

It had wandered up to their horse stable and stuck its head into the doorway, interested in something inside but too big to squeeze in. It’d scared the horses into a frenzy and their braying and kicking had woken Felina and Mercedes in the night. Without hesitation, Felina had gotten her gun and thrown on a coat. She’d told Mercedes to stay inside and had given her an earful afterwards because Mercedes didn’t listen, but at the time, they’d creeped out together onto the porch and around the house to see what was disturbing the horses. It had been Ishmael, horns having busted open the door of the stable, bulky, strange body too large to fit inside, raptorial arms splayed until he’d tucked one under his body and started to reach inside of the stable. Felina heard one of the horses scream and she raised her gun and fired it into the air.

The Ishmael beast’s fur fluffed up like it had been shocked by static and it snatched its head out of the stable, taking a piece of the door frame with it in its forceful retraction, the wood skewered on the end of its horn as it turned its shining, sunlight colored eyes on Felina and Mercedes. It was scary, then, the way it turned, its unnatural mixture of limbs and towering height silhouetted in the moonlight, hidden enough to be frightening, visible enough to be confusing. Felina fired the shot gun a second time, and Ishmael’s bristled fur seemed to ripple, the shag around its neck thickening, the tuft at the end of its tail bushy. It shrieked, and then it ran away, the piece of wood on its horn being shaken off as it trotted off, hooves stamping, raptorial points stabbing the earth in a disturbing, mismatched pounding.

Once it was gone, Felina looked to Mercedes and she knew that whatever her face looked like, it had made Felina mad, because she started yelling at her right there in the dark, gun pointed down at the ground while her other hand waved and pointed and flexed. Mercedes isn’t sure if her momma was mad that she hadn’t listened, or if she was mad that when she’d looked at Mercedes, instead of the sensible response of fear, she’d felt wonder and her face had shown it, because her face always shows it no matter how hard she tries not to be so obvious. She doesn’t remember all that Felina had said that night, she only remembers wanting to see the Ishmael beast again in the light of day.

It’d taken her a while to find Ishmael again, but now that she knows how to spot his tracks and to follow the carved up trees, she finds him easier and has tried again and again to see if somehow she can earn his trust. The fact that he’s turned his attention away from her again is promising. Usually, especially if he’s in a bad mood, he’ll track her like a prey animal hearing a twig snap, watching for predatory movements. Maybe by now he is used to her, to her voice, to her face. Maybe today will be the day she’ll get to touch him and he won’t be startled or angry about it. She waits a few minutes, watching him switch from his horn to the blade tip of his arm, and then she climbs down off of Buttercup, staying at her side when Ishmael turns his head again to look her way.

“It’s okay, I’m just standing here,” Mercedes says, trying to sound gentle and innocent, sounding to her own ears suspicious. She often has to approach these situations like she’s trying to get close to a stray cat or trying to catch a bird with a broken wing. The Ishmael beast seems unconvinced, it huffs again, and this time, it doesn’t turn its attention away from her. She pets her hand along Buttercup’s neck, and while normally Buttercup would turn her head to rest the bulk of her jaw on Mercedes’ shoulder, she keeps her head trained forward and slightly tipped, watching the Ishmael beast as much as its watching them.

“You know, if we were friends I could bring you apples from town.” She says, even though to her knowledge the beasts have no comprehension of language. She talks to Tripsy all the time, and has never seen anything that tells her Tripsy knows any words more than the name that Mercedes has bestowed upon her. When she calls out for Tripsy, she’ll lift her ears and head and come clumsily trotting towards her, but anything else Mercedes has to say is just noise, she suspects. The Ishmael beast turns its body slowly and Mercedes grabs ahold of Buttercup’s reins. If he charges, she needs to get up on Buttercup in an instant, but he doesn’t lower his head to threaten with his horns, so she doesn’t leap to run just yet.

“I’d really like to be friends, you know,” She says, softening her voice. “I’ve made friends with Tripsy and Jenny and Ocatan… I’ve made friends with Cherry and Kiki too, the fish ones that are always together in the bog north of here, you know them? We could be friends, if you wanted… You’re always by yourself. Aren’t you lonely? If we were friends, you wouldn’t be all by yourself all the time.” She lets go of Buttercup’s reins and takes a cautious step towards Ishmael, because as she’s been talking, he’s swayed some to adjust his posture, but he hasn’t lowered his head or showed his teeth at her. He is breathing loudly, but his fur hasn’t flexed up and his arms are tucked close to his body rather than spread out or reaching. She’s learned what to watch for with each monster, with so many animals… all she has to do is listen and show respect, all she has to do most of the time is show that she doesn’t want to hurt them.

Some creatures aren’t meant to be touched or tamed, but so many of the creatures in the territory, altered as they are, have their own language and gestures and Mercedes feels… special, and connected to the world, to listen and learn what they’re saying in ways that go beyond mere language. The Ishmael beast is telling her that it isn’t as bothered by her as it usually is when she’s this close, so she tries to say back that she’s safe, that if she comes closer, it won’t be so bad.

She bends her knees to make herself smaller, she lowers her head and looks at Ishmael from under her eyelashes. She extends her hand out with her fingers curled, knuckles bared rather than her fingertips. She takes slow, small steps. She’s so close now. The Ishmael beast huffs and she almost flinches, but it still hasn’t moved, its eyes rolling, scanning around it before refocusing on her, unnaturally angled when the bulging sockets are meant to look to the side rather than forward. Mercedes can hear the bugs and the wind and the birds, she can hear Ishmael’s breathing and the thwump of its tail against one of its hind legs. She reaches out, just a few inches more, and her knuckles graze the long snout of the beast, its wiry fur scratching at her skin, the thick cartilage of its face ridged down the center of its muzzle. It’s barely a touch, but it’s so much progress that Mercedes shivers out a breath, half a gust of relief, half a laugh. She tips her hand and smooths her fingers over the fur next, and the Ishmael beast lifts its nose against her hand, flattening her palm against its snout. She lightly scratches with her fingers and Ishmael grinds its teeth some more. She isn’t sure how to describe the feeling that blooms inside of her when moments like this happen, she only knows that it is the best, most purest feeling in the world. It’s something like love, she suspects, but it’s mixed with other things and makes all of the failures and fear and challenges of these interactions worth it.

“Hi Ishmael,” She says gently. Finally. Finally.

She realizes in an instant that speaking was a mistake.

#original story #writeblr #blood sun territory #oc: mercedes #she's just a baby trying her best

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stories-and-chaos · 10 months ago

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Tarnished pt 20

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 20/?? Word count 2113 CW: language, amputation]

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When he woke up, Fizzarolli found himself in a room of soft pink hues. Everywhere he looked he saw pastel tones, accented by purples and blues. A pink sky was visible through the window. The only relief from the bubblegum colors was the imp girl in the chair next to his bed.

“Barb…?” he croaked. The fuck happened to his voice? It was hoarse and scratchy, and deeper than it should be. Then he remembered.

The party. The crazed former fan. Bottles of flaming liquid. Fireworks.

Was it the smoke, the screaming, or disuse that made his voice sound like that? He tried to touch his throat but…nothing. The signals for his arm to move didn’t reach anything. A nugget of cold panic grew in his chest.

He tried to sit up, but he didn’t have anything to leverage himself upright. Barb, who had been dozing, woke up fully at his attempts to move. “Fizz! Thank Satan you’re awake!” She placed a hand on his chest to try to calm him. She pressed the nurse’s call button and let the drowsy voice that answered know he was awake.

“Try not to move yet, Fizz. The…the doctor will explain.” His friend looked so haunted, like she wanted to erase something stuck in her brain.

He tried to breathe evenly, like when his anxiety threatened to break free before he went on stage. “What happened? I remember the party and Molotov cocktails and everything on fire.”

“Someone threw Molotov’s at the tents?!” Barb hadn’t realized it had been arson that destroyed her life. “Jesus H. Christ, I should’ve stayed.” Yeah you fucking should have. That asshole wouldn’t have come around if you had, Fizz thought bitterly.

She covered her face in her hands. “We got back and everything was burning. We- I- we tried! We tried to get help, to find the others.” She drew in a hiccuping breath. “I found you, trying your damnedest to get to safety.” She looked up into Fizz’s eyes, her own watering. “I pulled you from the fire. You passed out so we got you to Sloth as soon as we could.”

“A very brave group of young women they were too,” said a newcomer into the room. “Fizzarolli, I’m Dr. Morphene,” the slim middle aged baphomet introduced herself. “I’m the lead surgeon for your case.” She sat down next to his hospital bed and looked at him with sympathy. “I’m told you just woke up. How are you feeling at the moment?”

“Kinda freakin out here, doc,” he said bluntly. “Nothing’s working right.”

She nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid I don’t have much good news about your condition. We can discuss this whenever you’re ready.”

Fizz took a deep breath. And another. A third for good measure. “Okay. How bad is it?”

“You’ve been in a medically induced coma for twelve days now. Your limbs and 85% of your horns were lost in the fire.” She paused to let him absorb the information.

Fizz stared at her. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her; every attempt to move had ended in failure after all. But finding out he was basically helpless now? It was hard to take in. “Well shit. Any more bad news?” Might as well get it over with.

“70% of your torso and 90% of your face was burned. Fortunately your hips, tail and groin had superficial damage at most. Your skin has been regrowing well. You had two cracked ribs but those are also healing well.” She looked at his chart before continuing. “I have you scheduled for some X-rays the day after tomorrow to check on those.”

Fizz, sensing the doctor had finished for the moment, laid his head back. Tears welled up and he couldn’t even brush them away. “The fuck am I supposed to do now?” They’d just been celebrating his agreement with Mammon. He was supposed to be the Sin’s new brand figure. The exciting future of working with his idol was slipping away.

Barb looked uncomfortable. “Fizz, we got word from Mammon. When you didn’t show up for work, he came looking.”

Shitbiscuits. Is this a breach of contract? Mammon’s probably so pissed, he’s gonna just cancel the whole thing.

Dr. Morphene continued after the girl. “Yes, your employer came to see you the second day. As we were still getting you stabilized, we naturally couldn’t let him in. However, he was informed of the extent of your injuries. He left a message for when you woke up.”

She held up a tablet computer for him to see and pressed the play button. Mammon’s face suddenly filled the screen. To Fizz’s surprise, he looked concerned.

“Fizzy my boy! I heard some shit went down at your circus, so I came to make sure you’re alright. Doc said you’re in rough shape but don’t you worry ya bitch! I gotta take care of my shiny new brand baby! I’m gonna get you fixed up with a set of robo-prosthetics, cutting edge from my buddy Ozzie. So tell the doc you want the implants and we’ll get you back up on a new set o’ feet. You’ll be onstage again before you know it. Now get well soon ya c**t!” The video ended with an explosion of green smoke and the sound of a cash register.

The imp’s jaw dropped. Mammon was…helping him? Not just by getting him prosthetics, but the newest robotic version from the sound of it. He vaguely remembered hearing about the robotic advances from Lust, but none of that had really affected him. Until now at least.

The cold core of him flared back to life. “If I get these…” he wouldn’t be helpless, right? His life wouldn’t be over.

“There are a number of things that need to happen first and it will depend on how much you put into your recovery. But yes, you’ll have mobility back,” the surgeon confirmed.

Barb looked like she wanted to protest, but Fizz ignored her and immediately said, “I’ll do it. I want the implants.” Dr. Morphene agreed to set up an appointment with the therapist involved for him. After giving him a bit more information, she left the teens alone.

Barb, now able to voice her opinion, hissed at him. “Fizz, you can’t just agree to whatever Mammon wants!”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What the fuck Barb?! Do you want me to just stay like this? As-as Torso-boy?!” He wiggled his shoulders. “My boss is helping me get my life, my career back! Why shouldn’t I agree?!”

Barb huffed. “It’s Mammon. A Deadly Sin, the king of Greed. He’s not just doing this to be nice, there’s gotta be a catch.”

That made him pause for a second. “Okay, but what else am I supposed to do? I’m gonna need something to help me, there’s fuck all I can do with just my tail. You got a better plan?”

She rubbed her face. “Not yet. I don’t want you to just stay this way. But can we at least look at other options than Mammon?”

Fizz frowned, feeling the still healing skin all over his face tightening. “That’ll take forever. We can’t afford a robo-hand, much less a full set of arms and legs. Not with…with the circus gone.” Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes again. Barb looked like she was going to cry too.

The teen made his voice as resolute as he could manage. “I’m gonna do it. I’m not letting some asshole ruin my life.”

Dr. Morphene had been right, there were a number of milestones Fizz had to meet before they could even get started. He had a team of doctors visiting him throughout each day. The robo-physical therapist, after his initial examination, set up a roadmap for Fizz and his medical team.

His skin needed to be fully healed before the implants could be attached. In the meantime, he would need to do core strengthening exercises. Rodney, the baphomet that was overseeing his therapy, explained why. “If the robotics don’t work for any reason, you’re relying on your organic parts. Your core is also going to be supporting appendages heavier than your original limbs. Until you’re comfortable using them, your core muscles are going to be carrying your weight.”

It was three weeks before he could get the docking implants. He actually got pretty good at using his tail for some things. At the very least he could hold a smoothie cup to feed himself. Working a fork or spoon usually ended up in a mess and he didn’t even contemplate trying to manipulate a knife. But he wasn’t quite helpless, which boosted his mood.

His implant surgery went well. It was a fourteen hour surgery since all four connections were integrated into his nervous system during it. Afterwards, there was more healing at the sites and continued core strengthening. Prosthetic control therapy was also added to Fizz’s days.

There were artificial limbs at the therapist office that connected to implants via cables. The practice arms and legs weren’t set up to support any weight, but to get him used to maneuvering the mechanical appendages.

Since he was having to adjust to all of his limbs being robotic, his care team would only let him focus on one set at a time. Fizz decided to prioritize his arms and hands first. He did have some practice with his legs, a half hour daily. But he was working on his arms as much as his therapist would allow.

So before his implants were ready to have actual limbs connected, he was making balloon animals with the practice set. Not as quickly as he had before, but he could do it. Rodney assured him that speed would come with practice.

Almost three months after the fire, the first of Fizzarolli’s new limbs was attached. There was a mechanical trill as it locked onto his joint and it booted up. His practice up to this point meant he no longer had to think hard about moving it. He held his new arm out straight and flexed the fingers. It was a good thing these were designed to be waterproof since he immediately had to grab a tissue for eyes.

Fizzarolli still had to build back his strength, so the limbs were added in stages. He could only have one on and active for a couple hours at first. As much as he wanted to get all of them attached at soon as possible, the implant sites ached at first. Once the second arm was hooked up he had to get them coordinated right. And once the legs were added, he had to not only maneuver them at the same time as his arms, he had to relearn how to walk.

His balance was all out of whack and his legs got twisted into knots more than once. “Good thing I’m used to taking falls,” he told Rodney after the fifth time the therapist had to untie his legs. Everyone at the hospital involved with his case knew his history in the circus. As he got better with his hands, he started working on parts of his routine.

Juggling, plate spinning, balloons, and even sleight of hand were all part of his daily training. His care team came by his therapy sessions often. They said it was to do assessments on his progress. But the rounds of applause said that was only part of it.

Despite all his work, Fizz wasn’t ready to compete in the second clown pageant. Mammon, who had been in contact with him at least once a week, told him to focus on his recovery. “The fans are gonna want a good show! So make sure you can give them what they paid for Fizzy.”

Barb, who was visiting him every day, was still conflicted about Mammon’s behavior. “At least he’s not cutting you off,” she admitted. “Though I heard he turned all your plushies into numbered limited editions, since they won’t match your look anymore.” Her voice dripped in disgust, not trying to hide her feelings about the Sin’s avarice.

Fizz felt up to participating in the third annual pageant. It was his first major performance since the fire. He’d done some small gigs after being discharged from the hospital to help play the bills. He came in a close second place. Close enough that he was sure some more work, more polish, would get him another win.

He threw himself into his practice. He took a variety of performing jobs, branching out from clown work. And at Mammon’s fourth annual clown pageant, Fizzarolli retook the crown.

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#helluva fanfiction #helluva boss #helluva blitzo #helluva au #fizzarolli #helluva fizzarolli #helluva barbie wire #barbie wire #helluva mammon

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thotsforvillainrights · 1 year ago

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Can I request a one shot of Giran comforting his “ secretary” (aka reader ofc) after them and one of his employees got into a fight please?

(Also how is the baby so far? How long are you?)

(How am I doing? I have some info tacked onto the end of this post regarding the baby HERE! Also I am officially 22 weeks along. Wow time seems to be speeding by so very quickly omg!)

~Cat Fight~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

Just because you loved and respected him didn't mean you felt the exact same about his coworkers. You made sure to always keep your guard up no matter how comfy you got around the others. This is because whether it was a client or a worker, it was a villain all the same. You learned your lesson a very long time ago when you trailed with him to work on day and got caught in an alleyway by a potential client. Had it not been for Giran nearby to save you, that fucker might've hurt you or worse. Since that day, you silently vowed to never get caught slipping again, and to never need Giran to come to your rescue either.

"Another productive day at the gym baby?" The old man asked with a smirk on his face as you entered his office covered in sweat. You nodded and looked around for a change of clothes you always kept in the room somewhere. He chuckled and watched you. "Y'know if you're gonna be my secretary, I'll need you on time for work more often than this babe." He teased you and you rolled your eyes before looking at him with a smirk. "Yeah? I'll try to keep that in mind the next time you're the reason I'm late after a long night hmm?" He smiled at you before turning his attention to his work. You silently celebrated your triumph and getting the last word over him as you undressed in the corner of his room and prepared to use the office shower room.

Careful of the curious eyes ogling you from beyond the thin lenses of those glasses~

After changing clothes into something much fresher, you'd went to take care of your usual tasks. When you first took up this little job for him, he was extremely hesitant on letting you in. The way he saw it, you were better suited as arm candy and someone for him to love on rather than getting mixed up in the black market dealings he took place in. You eventually proved your potential to him and he finally started to relax bit by bit. The two of you trusted each other not only as partners behind closed doors, but partners in the business too. You never had to worry about him either way and he didn't for you either. At least until you caught glimpse of the new hire...

What the hell was he thinking hiring them!? Some sexy little thing trotting down the hall with an arm full of paperwork no doubt on the way to his office. You grit your teeth and watched carefully, the sway of her/his/their hips as you got passed up. Perhaps the most noticeable trait was the soft cat ears atop their head and the tail swishing in time with their steps. There was no way in hell you'd let this sit without a complaint. Later that night when you got home, you laid everything on him. He laughed and brushed it off before pulling you into a hug. "I aint even fully in charge of hiring folks for different projects baby, you know that! besides, none of these people are really all that permanent. The only one is you...in every way possible." He smirked before nibbling along your neck and taking your mind off the subject right away. It wasn't as if he was lying to you though. He had no interest in the new hire in the least bit. His mind was on work and getting the new products pushed to get the sales up quickly for the winter months.

But you can't say the same for the new employee. It was increasingly obvious the longer you surveyed their behavior...

They had a thing for your Giran.

When you finally found a calm day to approach, you made sure to have a relaxed expression at first. Respectfully you let them know that Giran was taken and wasn't looking for anyone else aside from you right now...or EVER. What you wanted to hear was a polite apology and reassurance this wasn't the case. Instead you heard a loud laugh as the newbie rolled their eyes at you and smirked. "Oh please. You might've been first but I promise you after a few more days, I'm gonna be his last sweetheart. Why don't you hang up your shitty little blazer and those busted ass shoes and give it a break eh?" Perhaps a few seconds later a fight had broken out. Thankfully the two of you lacked any defining quirk that would grant an advantage so there was no need to feel outmatched. It was a fair fight...until you started wailing on them. Giran himself had to come break the fight off.

Let's just say the new hire was terminated rather quickly and you had a lengthy punishment pertaining to your behavior today. Or rather a reminder of the fact he wouldn't dare leave you. No further need to worry. Shortly afterward he'd taken a second to be more gentle than usual, pulling you into a soft embrace and rubbing small circles into your back. "How many times am I gonna have to nail this into your thick pretty little skull? I said it a million damn times but I suppose I'll say it a million times more if need be." He sighed before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I love you, and you should know it by now. I aint gotta say it every day and every hour do I? It's you and only you, and I mean that Y/N. Now if you don't mind, would you please stop beating the shit out of my other workers so we can get something productive done tomorrow?"

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #giran bnha #okuta kegero #scenario

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aphroditestummyrolls · 2 years ago

Note

i know i already got one but i am most humbly requesting another excerpt of kidnapping whump bc i feel Lousy today and want to treat myself x)

There’s no limit to how many times you can ask!!! ❤️❤️❤️ I’ll never turn down the kidnapping whump. I hope you’re feeling better, friend!

Jan Van Eck was not the imposing presence Jesper had expected him to be. He looked like a mercher, that was it. An especially wealthy one, perhaps, with his ruby tie pin glittering at his throat like fresh blood, but a mercher all the same. The kind Kaz would tail through the Markt, waiting for the right opening for a pocket watch or a wallet to lift.

He dressed in fine black, had sandy grey hair at his temples. Nothing about him looked like Wylan. Not in his sallow face, or his tall, sharp frame. Maybe, if Jesper squinted in the right light and imagined a kinder world full of kinder men, he’d recognize the cut of his jaw, or the slight upturn of his straight nose. But, it wasn’t a kind world, and Jan Van Eck was not a kind man. He was too stony cold and slicked back to ever look like his beautiful, wide eyed and kindhearted Wylan.

His back was rigid as a board, poised as if he was about to walk into the Church of Barter, or cut the ribbon on some new charitable tithe to Ghezen. Not like he was about to kill his own son.

The moment he saw Wylan, though, Jesper thought he looked like anything but a mercher. He barely looked human— a flash of menace darkened his face, and he exhaled long and slow through his nose. Like a disapproving teacher with an obstinate student, about to snap a ruler over his knuckles.

Like he wanted to hurt him.

It chilled his blood in his veins, heart pounding and every muscle frozen entirely. Just watching.

It had been a long time since Jesper looked at his boyfriend and thought of the word helpless. But, in the glowing half light of the cellar, it may as well have been a blinking sign above his head.

Strung up by his shackled hands to the pulley in the ceiling, his toes only just brushed the stone floor. His long, elegant fingers were going purple at the tips, wrists rubbed raw by the iron. His auburn curls were wild, falling over his forehead and making it harder to tell where they ended and the bloodstains from his temples to his soaked shirt collar began. He couldn’t tell how much his head had bled. What was the damage?

He looked skinny and frail, with his shirt cut away and buttons popped across the floor around him. It left him exposed and vulnerable, the deep, intentional knife cuts still bleeding sluggishly there.

Jesper might as well have given him those himself.

His ribs rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths, and Jesper forced himself not to match them. To stay steady. To try.

Wylan was in pain.

He was so scared.

“Father.” His voice stayed steady, and the sound of it kindled something in Jesper’s chest. He squeezed his bloodied fists around the secret break in his shackles, and the sharpened file he’d made of the metal.

He just needed the right moment to act.

“You’ve proven yourself to be a stubborn little weed, haven’t you Wylan?” Jan spoke with a cool effect of disinterest, but the clench of his jaw said different.

“At least I’ve proven myself as something to you.”

The spark of Wylan’s voice nearly made Jesper laugh out of sheer terror, but he bit his cheek.

Jan pursed his lip like they were discussing inclement weather. “The only thing you could do that wouldn’t disappoint me is die. And even that, it seems, I have to do myself.”

He turned then, looking to Pekka with a nod, but stopped short when he noticed Jesper.

“And who��s this? This wasn’t part of your contract.”

Thanks for playing! And thank you for being my constant companion in whump ❤️🤝❤️

#wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #jan van eck #six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone netflix #ask games #thanks for playing!

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axlestuck · 2 years ago

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I am curious, how do you do your ministrifes? I was wondering if you had a tutorial or anything because I absolutely love how you do them and I wanna learn!

I'm sorry this took over a month! I've been away from home, and busy, and struggling with other issues. But I have been working on it and I am finally delivering it to you now today!

This is going to be very long, so I placed it under a cut with image descriptions within the post text for clarity.

First of all, for any type of sprite- it's extremely helpful to know pixel art basics. There's tons of tutorials online and on YouTube if you go looking for them! You don't need to know everything, though. The things I'd personally recommend learning about are jaggies, doing curves, and conserving colors.

However, I also encourage you to just jump in and see what works for you! There's no wrong way to do pixel art, or any kind of art for that matter, and making something imperfect is still better than making nothing.

Anything with a pixel brush will work as a program. Some free pixel art oriented programs you can use are Piskel and Libresprite. If you don't mind paying, I've heard good things about Asesprite. Personally, I use Paint Tool Sai 2. You can also just use MS Paint, especially with the layers add on that was released recently.

Here's some process descriptions for both original sprites and swap edits.

Character swap edits:

Using an indigo Dave and Dirk I did for a request as an example, but much of them are made in the same way as this.

[ID: Two process images of Dave and Dirk's home stuck mini strife sprites being turned into indigo blooded trolls. Both characters' original sprites appear, followed by a recolored version with blue lineart, skin, and symbol, and with black hair. Dave has horns and Dirk has sea dweller fins but no horns. End ID]

I start with color correction and adding easy troll features. I pull skin and lineart tones from other sprites and adjust for any value differences. I often use a lighter color for indigo trolls because the base tone gives me eyestrain. Dave's horns got pulled from a different sprite as a base, but this was the first troll Dirk I did so I did his horns with his hair in the next section.

[ID: The first two sprites in these images are Dave and Dirk being given different outfits. Dave has a dress outlined over him and then colored in to be a light blue. Dirk's shirt is lengthened and turned white while his pants are turned blue. Both of them have troll signs.

The second two have Dave with a pony tail and larger horns. Dirk is given horns that curl in as well as thicker hair. End ID]

I outline an outfit before coloring it in if I'm making significant changes. If I'm not I just move parts around with selection and move tools. The signs always look a little funny on such a tiny scale.

For the hair, I try to keep something of the original silhouette while changing it enough to be distinct. It's a hard balance to strike. Usually there's a lot of minor tweaks and adjustments, especially if I'm changing the entire hairstyle like I have before.

If I'm changing existing horns I do about the same thing I do with the hair. For creating new horns, I mostly blob out a shape and tweak it till I'm satisfied.

[ID: Both finished sprites of Dave and Dirk. Dave and Dirk have both been given blue glasses. End ID]

Final touches, which can include color alterations or changes to small accessories or additions of new accessories entirely.

The intent behind my swaps specifically are to communicate an altered personality from the original, while still keeping the character recognizable enough. It's a hard balance to strike and some sprites are more successful than others. Best of luck if you try to do swaps of your own :)

Completely original sprites:

For this, I'm going to walk you through two character sprites I've made recently. This is more complicated than the other one, so it'll be longer.

These ones are for a fantroll I posted recently (Citral Mimali), and a fan kid request between Jade and Karkat (Kari Harley-Vantas).

[ID: Two process images of Home stuck mini strife sprites being made. The first image, of a character named Citral, starts with several abstract blocks of color and the second image, of a character named Kari, starts with a loose sketch. End ID]

For these sprites, I started them in two distinct ways- with blobbing out abstract colors and a sketch. Abstract colors can be helpful for keeping a lot of parts distinct from each other, while sketching is helpful for having a decent idea of what the finished product looks like from the get go. Other options include shrinking down a pre-made sketch and drawing over it, and just winging it.

(Post making Citral's sprite, and far too late to correct, I realize I didn't do the abstract color method correctly. You want to block out everything at once usually with the colors you'll be using in the finished product. But I'll keep it in anyway, because the method I did might still be helpful to someone. It's not normally what I do so I wasn't super experienced with doing it.)

When making a pose for a sprite, you want to make sure you center the character's personality first and foremost. For Citral, I wanted to make it look like she was smirking, almost jeering at someone else, while Kari is supposed to look confident and friendly. The silhouette matters a lot too, you want to be thinking about how the future parts you'll add will interact with the pose.

I also usually start with having other sprites on the canvas both for size reference and pose inspiration. I sprite the head first, it helps me lay out the proportion for the rest of the sprite. You can see I change the arms in both poses- I never get the arms right the first time.

In my non-Homestuck ministrife sprites I often play with the proportions and style a lot. I'd recommend it! It's fun and expands your sprite capabilities. You absolutely don't need to feel held to a specific style.

[ID: Two images of process sprites. The first is of Citral. It starts out with a bright purple hair outline into a finished hair sprite, two long pig tails. The second is of Kari. It has a couple vague shapes into a ponytail with a hairband and small horns. End ID]

For me, the hair always takes the longest. Citral's hair was more complicated, as it interacts with her silhouette more, so I had different processes for both of them.

For Citral, I started with a sketch outline then blocked it out into colors. I took the right pigtail, flipped, rotated, and tweaked it to save myself the work of doing it twice and keep the hair consistent. Doing a hairline is easy- you follow around the outline of the head further down.

I was making up Kari's design as I spirited her, so her hair started out with shapes that I enjoyed the look of and I expanded from there. Her horns and hairband were added as I made her hair as they don't change the silhouette.

[ID: Four process sprites of Citral showing the creation of the character's horns. It starts with a vague shape and is refined into a complete horn, then copied and flipped to create the other horn. End ID]

Horns are done in much the same way as hair, but smaller, and easily flippable. Blocked them out, refined them, colored em in, took one and flipped it to the other side.

I forgot to do so immediately, but you want to make sure with horns you're taking the tilt of the head into account. Her right horn should be one pixel lower than her left one. Blending them into the hair can make a big difference too.

[ID: Two process images. The first is of Citral and has four sprites showing the character being colored in with a skin tone, being given facial details and a pin in her hair, an outfit outline, and a colored in dress. The second shows a mostly finished sprite of Kari with an offwhite skin tone, gray shirt, and black pants. End ID]

Here's where I started focusing on the body and outfit of the sprites. I colored them both in with their respective skin tones and added other details like Kari's glasses and Citral's freckles, hair pin, and makeup.

Citral's outfit got an outline first because it broke her existing silhouette, but Kari's outfit was done in one go because it was just adding some inner outlines and colors. Citral's dress is colored in a lighter outline because it's darker than her outline color. Usually ministrifes use the outline color as black, as you can see with Kari's pants, but using a lighter outline keeps darker colors distinct, and using the outline color would have made Citral's sprite muddy.

Make sure clothes look like they're wrapping around the body- adding slight curves to the necklines or the bottom of a skirt or shirt can make it blend much more.

[ID: Three sprites of Citral showing her dress being finished, given three necklaces, and the legs and shoes being colored in. End ID]

Coloring the rest in, and adding small details. The sign never looks perfect, it just needs to be vaguely comprehensible.

A word of caution: don't make your sprites too detailed. These are tiny- less than 100x100 pixels. Putting too much detail in will make your sprites read as noisy or muddy, especially if you use a lot of colors.

[ID: Two images. The first is of Citral and has two sprites, one having an outline of a tail and the other one having it colored in along with many other touchups. The second image is of Kari's finished sprite with an alien on her shirt and gray shoes. End ID]

I remembered Citral's tail last. But I did remember it! You may notice I made her ponytails darker in this so her tail is visible.

Kari's final sprite is not much different from her last one- I added her symbol, an alien ship, and made her shoes gray, and touched up the body some. This sprite actually differs slightly from the ones I've posted as I've edited her sprites slightly more afterward.

After you're done you want to probably look at it a couple times the day or so after, to catch all of the little things you won't have noticed while making the sprites- this is when a lot of little tweaks happen, like all of the little changes on Citral's final sprite (blending and moving her horn, adding her hairline, lengthening her sleeve, etc) or Kari's body pose changes.

For me I do ministrife sprites because they're a lot of fun to use for simplifying design exercises and to communicate personality in posing where a normal full-styled panel sprite won't. Plus they're so small that I find them nice and easy to work on compared to a full sprite. Of course, the absolute top thing to do is to have fun with it :)

That's all I've got for now, but if anyone has any more specific questions please don't hesitate to let me know!

#ask #anonymous #not a sprite post #tutorial #sprite resources

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bigimotikwriting · 2 months ago

Text

Their Future - Part 27

Master Post

Deep beneath the Alliance Headquarters, Gridori moved through the dimly lit corridors, his boots the sole sound marking his passage into the dungeons. Down he went until he reached the most obscured cell in the entire building, with bars crossed over a door humming with magical energy.

A cloaked figure stood and moved out of the shadows. "Gridori, I presume?" said a raspy voice that carried above the thrum and buzz of the force fields. "I take this to mean that all is going according to your plan?"

"Yes, exceptionally so." Gridori placed a hand on a set of runes carved into the wall next to the opening. The barrier came down instantly.

"Shall we get going, Gntarl?"

The former general of the United Alliance Army stepped out of his prison cell with a small chuckle. "Lead the way."

****************************

Yumemi's journey to the mall was going quietly. Almost too quietly. Unless her brother was very good at distracting and her parents very good at running interference, she would have expected to have Tatakohe or one of his lackeys on her tail by now.

It wasn't until she was rounding the corner onto the street to the mall that she realized someone was following her.

She whirled around and caught a glimpse of yet another new face - this one with dark hair and eyes. "I am not going with you," she said, raising her voice. "Leave me alone!"

Not even bothering to look behind her, she stepped back towards the mall. "What do you think you are doing? Is this the way the Heavens operates now?"

The man tilted his head and then disappeared from view. Yumemi blinked, and then she was suddenly grabbed harshly by the arms and lifted from the ground. Immediately, she kicked and twisted, managing to get away for a second.

"Yumemi, run!" Ichiko was sprinting up the street from the other end, Suzume not far behind her.

She didn't need to be told, and she bolted away into the derelict park across from the mall entrance. She took a quick peak as she got away, seeing Ichiko slam full force into the person, bringing them to the ground.

Tracing the edge of the park for a few minutes brought her to a bridge over a water channel. She scooted down the slope so she could catch her breath, tucked away between two of the main supporting beams, next to the running water. Refuge for a moment, at least.

She tried to tuck her mussed hair behind her ears and accidentally brushed against a small cut on her forehead that she must have gotten during her brief encounter with her assailant. She winced at the contact with the wound.

"I do apologize for that," said the stranger, as he joined her under the bridge.

Yumemi backed away, seeking an escape route that she might use to fly back to Ichiko and Suzume.

"That's really not necessary," her opponent said. "All I want to do is talk."

"Barging into my home, trying to kidnap me, and accosting me in the street feels a bit much for just wanting to talk," she said.

"It is imperative I speak with you," he said with a shrug.

There was something in his tone and manner that was nagging in the back of her mind. Something familiar.

"I doubt that," Yumemi replied. "I'm not sure what 'mission' you could be talking about-"

"That was a fabricated excuse designed to make your parents feel comfortable. There is clearly no mission." He gestured as if brushing away the lies buzzing around him.

Yumemi figured it out. He wasn't wearing the mask, but without question this was:

"Tatakohe?"

"Lord Tatakohe, if you please," he said, casting a rebuking stare.

"Why exactly do you need to talk to me? Are you going to drag me before the council and force me to become an Outsider? Or are you trying to take my powers for some plan with Gntarl?" she asked.

He frowned at her. "I'm afraid you're wrong on both accounts."

"But Munto said-"

"Munto is hotheaded and impetuous, especially when it comes to you. He misread my motivations entirely."

Yumemi glared. "Please stop interrupting me." She gathered herself. "Which part am I wrong about?"

Tatakohe sighed and leaned against a pillar. "I have no intention to drag you back before the Council; I certainly do not wish to use your powers for anything - nevermind any purpose associated with Gntarl."

"Then how did you learn about my powers and why did you prompt the Council to force me into an interview?" She crossed her arms.

He gaped at her incredulously. "Do you seriously think that your efforts in the akuto crisis are some great secret? This is why I hate working with magicians."

Yumemi let out a small huff.

"Since you are obviously not aware, but virtually every aspect of the akuto crisis was recorded through the United Alliance observation system. I recognize that few on the council are inclined to interact with the magitech, but that information has been available to anyone who wishes to see it. Neither you, Munto, nor Gntarl hold a monopoly in that regard."

"And the interview?" she quipped.

"It was the only way I could get the rest of the council to carefully review what transpired and to explore the possibility that you were appointed as the successor to the role of Guardian of Space and Time." He clicked his tongue. "You must have noticed that I asked you no questions during your inquiry; I already possessed nearly all the information you shared that day."

"So you do want me to become Outsider," she said.

He was silent for a minute.

"We have to strike a careful balance of the powers in the Heavens. The Guardian is one of the controls to preventing any person or continent from having too much power. Ever since the akuto crisis reached its peak and the Guardian disappeared, everything has been imbalanced." He looked at her with a hint of remorse. "We need an Outsider."

"You will find someone," she said.

He shook his head. "Not fast enough. Right now, if Munto felt in the mood, we would be powerless to prevent him from seizing power over all of space-time and subsequently the Heavens."

"Munto would never do that!" Yumemi cried.

"But his imposter might."

Yumemi's eyes went wide. He knew about the fake Munto.

"When my informants told me about the space-time anomaly, I went to investigate. I did not expect to see his disappearance or the return of the creature from the Void." He scoffed. "I'm not sure who it thought it was fooling; it was clear that the being was not Munto."

"Then surely the council will stop him if he tries anything," Yumemi said hoping.

"I don't think you understand just how much sway Munto has had over Heavenly affairs. The imposter does not need to put on a heavy facade to get the council to follow their lead. They will not see the tells as easily as his friends and allies."

Yumemi was puzzled. "What about you? How could you tell?"

He sneered slightly. "My distaste for Munto and the Magical Kingdom resulted in a type of close observation."

Hmmm. Ichiko would calm him an obsessed stalker.

"And that was why you wanted to talk to me - to make sure I didn't go along with his plans." She looked up at the underside of the bridge in thought. "Then you really aren't working with Gntarl."

"No. We've never even spoken."

Yumemi wasn't sure what to do. Munto warned her to be wary of Tatakohe, but right now the biggest threat was the impostor. She would need all the help she could get to expose the lies and stop the danger before it got out of hand.

Standing tall, she faced Tatakohe and stuck out a hand. "I agree to an alliance, if you can handle working with my friends."

#fanfiction #munto #writing #munto-their-future-fic-rewrite #yumemi

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clementines-writing-corner · 1 year ago

Text

inspiration, privilege, and a new character ✨

Hello friends!

This is my first update on my writing progress - just about a week after my first post (give or take a few hours)! I’m still not entirely sure how to go about writing this even as I am in the process of doing it. So, first and foremost, apologies for any awkwardness or stiltedness. Please bear with me as I continue to figure this blog thing out! ᕱ__ᕱ

A quick overview for those of you who want to speed through my rambles and get to the good creative development bits: This week I wanted to gripe about the fickleness of inspiration, discuss unrealised privilege, and give some details about a character I am developing!

Inspiration

Okay, let's get the complaining out of the way first. Inspiration is so annoying! Ideally, I would have a steady, gentle flow of inspiration, so I’m able to take my time to pick out the good ideas and discard the rest. But, noooooooo. Instead, my brain decides that I get one of two extremes most often: either I’m overflowing with inspiration, stuck, unable to even process the sheer volume of ideas that are floating about my brain, or my idea stores are dryer than the Sahara desert. It’s so frustrating!!!!!! Is this just a me thing? Do other writers deal with this? Ugh! I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone.

I bring this up because this week has been really dry for me. It just figures that as soon as I buckle down and decide to commit to working my creative writing muscles once more, my brain decides that - nope! no ideas for JP this week!

I did eventually get hung up on one idea, during a conversation with my friend about how much we both love morally grey characters. They are just so fascinating to read/think about! When we were having this conversation though, my friend ended up doing a google search on moral alignment charts and this was the first image she clicked on:

Now, regardless of your opinions about the comic book characters on this chart, what caught my attention was the top left corner. Upon seeing everyone’s favorite boy scout in red and blue spandex, I remarked, “Clark Kent seems like a good guy and all, but lawful good characters are so boring.”

🌟

ᕱ__ᕱ

(Thus, an idea was born.)

A lawful good character that I, at the very least, don’t find boring. What an inspired idea! I rolled the idea around in my head for the next two days as I made my way through classes and finally (while I was taking a shower of course because the best ideas are shower ideas), I decided that I would rework and expand upon a character I had already started creating. One of the characters from my failed creative writing attempt from over the summer.

Privilege

Because I have to make things terribly difficult and overly complicated for myself, I decided that I wanted to stretch out my graphic design muscles as well and draw my character. But I had a very clear vision of her in my head and wanted to bring her to life for you all to see. It mostly went well, which is good, seeing as I am still quite the novice in most artistic endeavors, until I got to her hair. My character is some type of fae creature (perhaps an elf? I haven’t determined that part yet) and has dark skin. I was originally going to give her straight hair, but ultimately decided that there was no reason she couldn’t have more textured, coily hair, so I set out to try and see if someone had created an accessible brush, or at least a tutorial on how to make one, to help me with drawing out my character hair.

I found zero. My style is generally on the simplistic, cartoon-like end of the realism spectrum and I was going to style my character’s hair into long bubble-puff twin tails, so the brush type I was searching for wasn’t terribly complicated. And what about braids? I wasn’t able to find a single brush or tutorial for making a textured hair brush that was easy to search or accessible to me. So, I said screw that and ended up figuring out how to make my own.

It is insane to me how some forms of privilege are so invisible until they smack you right in the face. I am white. I was able to find several downloadable brush options and tutorials on how to make brushes for straight hair. But not a single one for coily, textured hair, or even hair put in protective styles. It’s truly baffling, and I recognize even that feeling as a little privilege on my part because I’ve never had to think about it until this past week.

I’m glad I made the decision to give my character textured hair.

Character

As I stated before, I like to make things difficult for myself and of course with the snags I had drawing my character, much of the time I could have spent writing her was eaten away. However, here are some key details I hope to develop further:

Her name thus far is Ailidh (eyy-lee)

She is some type of fae folk (perhaps an elf - that’s what she started as but I may create my own magic system/world lore so who knows)

She is a noble

Not royalty I don’t think (I’m fairly certain I don’t want the fae folk to be a monarchy)

Her family is very high ranking though (enough so that they may be part of a ruling class - perhaps and oligarchy type situation - they care for the fae living in there neck of the woods at least)

She is engaged (ooo drama!)

She does not want to be engaged

Ooo plot!

She is skilled with herbs and healing (and also poison) but terrible with weapons of any kind

She is very indignant that her parents send her around with more bodyguards than both of them have combined

She loves her parents and her fellow fae and has a strong sense of loyalty and duty

That, unfortunately, is all I have for now. Hopefully it wasn’t too bland. ᕱ__ᕱ Some world-building crept out at me as I was coming up with her character and story which is very exciting and gives me all sorts of new inspiration! At the very least I have 2 new characters to come up with (her fiance and a surprise). ᕱ__< But, I feel this has been quite long enough (4 pages of the doc I used to draft this on) and so I shall leave you all here for now. Kudos to those who managed to make it here through all my rambles!

And remember, dot your j’s and cross your t’s!

~Clementine J Quincey🪷

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movedtoferinehuntress · 1 year ago

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That was where it was a struggle; he couldn't remember his past. Erased somehow; perhaps from the surgery and experimentations that lead him to become what he is now. She highly doubted anyone would be able to retain themselves when put through so much pain. Even she had to keep up her wall at times to make sure she wasn't overwhelmed by the pain and extension of the rage intermingled together. "Hey," Caitlyn brushed her hand up to his arm, her fingers brushing into the bristled coarse fur in hopes to provide him a sense of comfort; or at least knowing he wasn't sitting here alone. "I won't force you to remember, but I will help you if you want to find someone from your past; I am here to help," Despite his beastly self and at times the rage she witness in fights; she still could sense the human within him. Besides, these moments here told her despite the violent aggression he still had a mind. His whimper made her other hand reach out so both hands were now against his fur as she tilted her head to see him burying his face; like some long-forgotten memory haunting his mind without knowing what it was. The grief palpable in the stagnant air.

Speaking of Vi seemed to bring him out a little bit. Lowering her hands from his arm, she brushed one up to push her hair behind her ear as she watched his little actions at first. The twitch of his ear, a little flick of his tail. As if trying to recall more and then speaking with a voice soft and hesitant that it was hard to believe it came from a great bipedal wolf. There was a distinct change in his voice, as she quietly took in his words.

Glasses and Lock Pick, she took note of those two new names as she tried to think about people Vi had talked about. She had often spoken of Mylo and Claggor, two other foundlings taken in with her and Powder. And he said that Vi was his cub…

Quietly contemplation ran through her mind as she to realize that perhaps Warwick was someone else in Vi's history. Vi had mentioned Vander many times before, and Warwick considered Vi his cub and Vander had been like a father to Vi before. Perhaps they were one of the same. Blue eyes flicked back up toward him, though she didn't speak out her thoughts aloud; he struggled with the memories of his past and the pain that came from them.

"Vi… Pink Punch is trying," Caitlyn offered some quiet console for him. "There was a lot that happened that took her away from Blue, and then things just got worse. It's… complicated," Spirits was the whole thing complicated. In the end, Jinx would be Vi's sister and nothing would change that. In a way, she tried to think about it as if it was Jayce, how she would do anything to try and get him back, and how that sibling relationship would still be present despite any kind of changes. It would just make things more difficult, and it's why Caitlyn had a hard time bringing herself to end Jinx. Because damn it all, that was Vi's sister and someone Vi still cared about deeply despite how much they had both changed. If Vi had hope that she could get through to Jinx then Caitlyn trusted Vi with that. She might have no hope for Jinx; in her eyes, the woman was twisted and demented beyond all hope. However, she trusted Vi too much to take away her chance that she might be able to get through to her.

Thinking on all of this, Caitlyn's eyes turned to look down to push back the anger she had against Jinx and try to think of this from his point of view. In a way, perhaps Jinx's story held such tragedy from losing the people that mattered so much to her that shaped her life. However, Caitlyn's hand wrapped around her waist to brush against her back, as she could not forget the trauma she suffered. There was no pity in the investigator's eyes for a woman who thrived on the suffering of others. Her jaw tightened and for a moment her eyes narrowed glaring at the ground.

A quiet breath ran through her lips as she took up another question to deviant away from the troubling memories and back to the present. "Have you thought about talking to Pink Punch?" Caitlyn questioned, turning her eyes back to him as her face relaxed once more and her hands rested back in her lap. "She's still your family, your cub?" Did he want that?"

Pain had become a constant in Warwick's life, the moment the large beast had been reborn. It had been with him throughout his creation, and it seemed that the Bad Man... that Singed valued pain above all else. "Pain reveals change." It was why the mad scientist had specifically engineered Warwick to become stronger the more pain he was in. Each wound, each blow, each strike was another precursor to him becoming stronger and stronger. The concoction in his tank and the massive needle in his back allowed him to literally give himself pain on demand when he needed it. It made him feral and bestial and it destroyed the man-long-dead little by little.

"That is the thing", Warwick reminded Caitlyn, "Caitlyn knows who she is. Has clear memory of her life pre-Zaun. Warwick's memory is foggy. Is hard to think about life of man-long-dead. Hard to remember. Hurts to remember." The wolf placed a hand against his temple and softly groaned in discomfort. "Warwick does not dare to recall memories of the man-long-dead. Only fragments and fractions. Sounds and smells mostly. Maybe the occasional face. And grief. So much grief." Warwick whimpered and buried his heavy head in his paws. "What did I do?!"

His ear twitched as Caitlyn spoke of Pink Punch. Vi. The name was scraping at something in his brain. A small girl, sitting on an old, battered couch, her dark pink hair touselled up and messy, her face covered in bruises and cuts from a fight, she had gotten into. Displeased grunts and grumbles even as he pressed a cloth against her wounds. His hands were large, but warm and without claws or fur. Hands, which in his mind seemed to flicker between dripping with blood and just combing through that pink hair.

Just what did I do?

"When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish. You say run, they run. You say swim, they dive in. You say light a fire, they show up with oil! And whatever happens, it is on you."

His tail and ears flicked once more as Warwick spoke, placing his front paws before himself. His head was low and his voice came almost hesitant as if he was catching the words from a time long past. For once, there was no growling and snarling in it and even though his speech still had its distinct pattern and vocabulary, it felt more like his voice belonged to a different man:

"I remember Pink Punch. Pink Punch was my cub. Leader of a pack of her own. Watched over Blue Whirlwind when she was little, together with Glasses and Lock Pick. Do not know what happened to Glasses and Lock Pick. Am fearing the worst for them. Do not understand why Pink Punch is no longer watching over Blue Whirlwind. It is not like her. Neither should be separated like that. They are still pack mates and need one another."

#[muse] caitlyn — interactions.#[post canon verse] — its time for change.#[default verse] — welcome to piltover.#thread: the man within the beast #shimmerbeasts

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waywardstation · 3 years ago

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Until Then, Don’t Worry

While Akari is gone on an expedition into the Icelands, Zisu does her best to keep Ingo from worrying about her, and bets that she can get him to smile. It is a process of trial and error.

HUGE FIC! I mashed together four prompt requests for this; slice of life, Zisu interacting with Ingo, Ingo Babysitting Lady Sneasler’s kits, and ticklish Ingo/ Ingo smiling/laughing. And huge thanks to CW Anon for the huge list of Pokémon puns you sent, I used a ton of them! Thank you!

I struggled with writing this, it’s so big and I feel like it’s hard to read at points (and I worry about some points of characterization) but I do hope it’s still engaging!

OR read it on AO3 here!

Enjoy!

————

“Bravo! Excellent!” Ingo signaled the end of the battle as he congratulated the victor. As the dust cleared from the sunset-tinted battlefield, Ingo brushed off some of the kicked-up dirt off of his coat. His roughed-up Gliscor settling on the ground as it indicated it was still conscious, but could no longer fight.

The air cleared to show Akari on the other side of the battlefield, who had run over to hug her overgrown Purugly.

“Great job, Missy!” Akari hugged the large Pokémon around their neck, who was purring happily despite her scuffs and scrapes.

“You are becoming quite strong, Miss Akari!” Ingo called out from across the battlefield as he tended to his Gliscor, handing them an oran berry and a reassuring head pat. He then walked over to talk to Akari within speaking distance, as opposed to shouting distance. Gliscor stayed behind, munching on the berry happily, despite the many scrapes it’s carapace had sustained.

“Even your newly caught Pokémon are proving to be exemplary opponents, very in sync with your battles!”

Missy noticed Ingo approach, and moved to brush up against one of his legs in an expected cat-like fashion. She purred as Ingo reached down to pet her head, not minding the fur she was getting all over his pant leg.

One of Akari’s newer Pokémon she had caught, the young survey corps member had brought her to Ingo, to train her up with a few one-on-one battles. As a strong Alpha (which explained its considerable size), Akari was eager to integrate the large cat into her team.

“She was already super strong when I found her!” Akari told the warden as she stood up, brushing some of the dust off of her knees. “But training with you has made her even stronger! She’s going to be a big help in tomorrow’s expedition!”

The overgrown cat let out a meow of agreement as Akari pulled a homemade potion out of her satchel. With a flick of her tail, Missy promptly returned to Akari, and she began to apply the potion to the large Pokémon’s scrapes.

“I am glad to be of service and help with training!” Ingo beamed, and he meant it. “Anything that will help better prepare you for tomorrow’s trip.”

Both he and Akari knew full well that she could have just taken Missy into the wilderness outside of Jubilife, and worked up training against wild Pokémon. But Akari enjoyed spending time with Ingo much more, and Ingo enjoyed battling with Akari more than anyone else. (no one else could battle quite like here…yet. With time, hopefully the rest of Jubilife village could become more accustomed to proper battles.)

So, Ingo was usually Akari’s go-to for training when she caught a new Pokémon, and he was more than happy to help.

“Thanks for doing this all day by the way, I know it was a little last minute,” Akari put the now-empty potion bottle back in her satchel as she glanced at the orange sky, the setting sun dipping below Jubilife’s mountain-line. “They didn’t tell me Rei got sick and had to drop out from Professor’s survey trip until this morning, so I’ve been rushing trying to get ready to take his place.”

“It is not a problem!” Ingo replied, a smile still on his face, being on the topic of battling. “I enjoy our battles. Though I know your expedition work is important, your presence here at the training grounds will be missed. How long will this trip last?”

“Well, we’re going to be stationed out there for a few days. Professor told me it should take around four days, five or six if the weather gets bad…which he says we should count on. But we’re going to do our best to avoid it!”

Ingo’s gaze flickered behind Akari momentarily, to focus on the distant mountains of Hisui. He could see what Laventon was talking about…dark clouds could be seen rolling in from across the ocean. It was still a considerable ways off, but it was coming, and seemed like it would indeed hit most of Hisui within the coming days.

Why did they have to do this trip now of all times?

Akari scratched Missy behind her ears one last time before recalling the large feline back into its pokeball. “He said the Zorua we’re going to observe are hiding away in the Iceland’s caves by the time we get there. They come together like that right before storms, and they have to be approached very carefully. It could take some time!”

“Well, I do hope you arrive at your destination safely and on schedule, and I hope your friend Rei recovers quickly.” Ingo readjusted his cap, trying to get the thoughts of the approaching storm out of his head.

“I do too! He was upset he couldn’t go, he told me to enjoy it for him,” Akari recalled as she readjusted her satchel, Missy’s pokeball now inside, and glanced out at the sky again. It was now a more purplish-pink color, as opposed to the orange.

“I should get going, I need to get up early for tomorrow,” Akari told Ingo as she turned her attention back towards the warden, before holding her arms open.

“So…hug?”

Ingo mirrored her and held his arms open at her request, and Akari wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug. She squeezed him rather tightly, enough for Ingo to swear she finally cracked a bothersome crick in his back. But regardless, he smiled and returned her hug.

“I’m going to miss you, but I’ll hurry back soon so we can do more battles!” Akari told him, voice muffled against Ingo’s thick tunic.

“The days will fly by on their own, but I will be here awaiting your arrival. The Icelands are dangerous, and safety is important! The weather can turn very fast this time of year, so proceed with speed, but not haste! Follow your safety checks!” Ingo reminded her as she let go of him.

“I will! And I’ll bring you back something too!” She told him as she headed for the training grounds exit, waving to him. “Goodbye!”

“Goodbye, Miss Akari!” Ingo waved back at her, a smile still on his face, keeping the worry hidden behind it.

That was, until a booming “Goodbye!” joined in, purposely loud to make sure it was heard, sounding from behind him. Startled, Ingo turned back to see Zisu exiting the dojo with haste to also bid Akari goodbye in time, waving her off with one hand. She had two brooms in the other. “Have fun on your trip!”

The young girl returned the wave with a smile and a “I will! Goodbye Zisu!” As she went down the hill towards her unit.

And with that, Akari was out of sight, not to be seen again for the better half of a week.

“Ah, Miss Zisu…I didn��t know you were still present! You have usually departed by this time,” Ingo admitted as he adjusted his coat, turning to address the captain once Akari was out of sight. Zisu got a glance at his rare smile before his usual frown replaced it, but warmth still carried in his voice. “I was just about to sweep up.”

Ingo had thought several times before that perhaps a more solid ground to battle on than packed dirt would be better in the long run. A layer of dust always settled on everything from all the dirt that battles always kicked up, meaning at the end of every day, Zisu or himself were left to sweep up. And today was Ingo’s day to sweep.

“I figured,” Zisu grinned at him, a contrast to his neutral expression, holding the brooms up. “But I thought I’d stay later and help you with that. Things are always a bit more messy once Akari’s done here. That girl knows how to battle! About as good as you!”

The captain took one of the brooms she was holding and tossed it to Ingo with no warning, not even letting him process her compliment. With an “oof!”, the warden barely clutched it against his chest, caught off guard by the sudden throw. He readjusted the broom in his hands to see Zisu was already sweeping dust out of the dojo’s entrance.

“Plus, the work will get done faster if I help. So it won’t be too dark when you have to walk all the way back home.”

Zisu’s selfless hospitality tugged on Ingo’s heart. While she tended to joke around with him a lot, and he often found himself on the receiving end of many of her antics, she was always so friendly with him - even from the first day he had begun hosting battles at the training grounds at Kamado’s request. He was technically taking over her space, but she never expressed irritation with him. In fact, she had been quite excited to have someone else stationed there with her!

Apparently it got lonely, which Ingo understood - before he was requested to be stationed at the dojo alongside her, it was just her there, all day every day. And barely anyone even used the dojo before Ingo came, besides the lone survey corps member Kamado would send her way for required training from time to time.

While clan relations had been getting better lately, maybe Ingo had gotten a little too used to seeing the Diamond and Pearl clans subtly clashing and talking against each other. He did not behave this way himself of course, instead showing members of the Diamond Clan (as well as anyone else) his best hospitality and respect, but had grown not to expect the same treatment from everyone in return.

However, having Zisu initiate such kindness, especially unprompted, in many of their exchanges was a nice change of pace. Ingo had welcomed it, quickly opening up and returning friendly gestures to her.

Just as much as Ingo had welcomed Zisu’s casual kindness and friendly demeanor, Zisu had taken quite a liking to Ingo’s agreeable nature and unique lingo, even if she didn’t fully know what he was referencing most of the time.

In short, Ingo had a friend, and Zisu had a workplace buddy who put up with her jokes.

“…your help is much appreciated, Miss Zisu!” Ingo replied after taking a moment to ponder accepting her help or not. Ingo knew she was going to help either way. “I am most grateful!”

“Don’t mention it,” the tall woman returned, sweeping the last of the dust out of the doorway. “…also I’ve told you before, just Zisu is fine! No “miss” is needed!”

“Apologies. I will work to keep that in mind…Zisu,” Ingo told her as he began sweeping the dust off of the battleground’s wooden platform.

Zisu knew the shortened title still wouldn’t stick just yet though. When the two had first met, it had taken a lot of reminding for Zisu to get Ingo to refer to her as “Miss Zisu”, instead of strictly “Captain”. But it was progress, and Zisu was currently trying to shorten it even more from “Miss Zisu” to simply “Zisu”.

It felt more casual to her, and solidified that their relations were also one of friendship, not one of just strictly a workplace business.

It wasn’t that Ingo didn’t want to, or deliberately didn’t retain the requests, but it was very clear that the warden valued formalities and politeness, and it was hard to let go of something that came so natural sometimes.

Zisu didn’t entirely mind that though, she thought.

With a smile, she returned to her work, moving on to brushing off the dust that had accumulated on the walls of the dojo.

Ingo was quiet as he swept, keeping his head down so the brim of his cap could protect his eyes from the glare of the setting sun.

He opted to listen to Zisu as she began to hum a tune to help her along with her work. It was vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

The warden’s thoughts started to drift, wondering where he had heard it before. Getting so caught up in his mind, he didn’t notice Zisu had stopped humming.

“Smiles from you are rare, aren’t they?”

“Pardon?” Ingo stopped sweeping momentarily, still standing on the battlefield’s platform. He squinted in the sunset’s glare as he looked up to face the captain.

“It’s just not often I see you with big grins like that!” The captain referee to his earlier exchange with Akari as she halted her sweeping, one hand in her hips, the other gripping her broom as she met the warden’s gaze with a grin.

“Oh,” was all Ingo said after a moment, looking down to break the gaze as he rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I apologize, Miss Zisu, if I often appear cold. On the contrary, I-“

“-no Ingo, not at all!” Zisu hastily corrected herself in an attempt to rephrase what she was getting at. Did she offend him? Maybe she had been a bit too straightforward with this, she wondered. “Everyone who knows you knows how friendly you are! It’s just that you…hmm… nothing seems to get you to smile more than that sweet kid that just left, or tough battles, it seems.”

“Ah,” Ingo understood what she was getting at despite the rocky correction, and now a bit more relaxed, he turned back to finish sweeping the last of the dust off of the platform. “They both remind me of my previous station, before my arrival to Hisui. The memories may be slow to arrive, but they give me feelings of…familiarity.”

Ingo paused his speech a second, as if hesitant to be so vulnerable to a coworker. But this wasn’t just a coworker! This was Zisu, a friend. And Zisu would show empathy, not pity, he concluded.

“…And it is comforting to know my mind has not forgotten the sense of familiarities, despite the loss of remembrance.”

Zisu had known a bit about Ingo’s memory loss situation, with it being brought up when Kamado first introduced him to the dojo, but she never really asked about it much. However, she understood how important anything that connected him to his past was to him.

“…I suppose it does evoke a lot of smiles,” Ingo pondered further over Zisu’s initial comment as he swept the last of the dust off of the platform, a small smile tugging at his mouth again as he reflected.

Looking over his work to make sure everything had been cleaned to his standards, Ingo brought the broom back into the dojo and put it away. Poking his head out of the dojo’s doorway, he extended an arm out to take Zisu’s broom as well. Zisu handed it to him, and Ingo disappeared back inside for a moment, before reappearing to close and lock the dojo doors.

“Thank you for assisting me with maintaining the training grounds, Miss Zisu!” Ingo thanked the captain again, nodding his head in acknowledgement. “Tomorrow I will return the favor!”

“I’ll be counting on that!” Zisu half-joked with the warden, clapping him on the back.

With the sun having fully set, the two headed home for the night.

Zisu considered Ingo and reflected on what he had said. Smiles looked good on him! But with Akari gone, there wouldn’t be much of that for the next few days, would there?

Ingo’s mind drifted towards Akari as he looked at the distant storm clouds, a small seed of worry beginning to plant itself in his thoughts.

————

“Good morning, Miss Zisu!”

The captain looked up across the training grounds to see Ingo entering through the gates, one hand behind his back with the other extended up in a wave of greetings; his loud voice had carried quite far. Behind him, the early morning glowed a cool purple, the warm sun just beginning to climb over Hisui’s mountain line. The distant storm clouds were ever-present behind the mountains, still crawling closer.

“Good morning Ingo!” Zisu waved back to him, having been in the middle of arranging satchels of grit dust to grit rocks. “How goes it today?”

“As usual,” Ingo hid a yawn behind a fist as he approached, automatically going to help Zisu pack away the various grits she had assorted. “The engine is slow to startup.”

Unlike Zisu, Ingo was not a morning person, and it hadn’t gotten any easier for him as time went on. But day after day, morning after morning, he always arrived on schedule to his post at the training grounds.

A moment of silence as the two assorted and packed away the grits for the day, before Ingo broke this silence with another yawn.

“It could be a slower day today,” Zisu spoke up, putting the last of the grit away and dusting her hands off. “What with Akari being on that trip.”

“That seems most likely,” Ingo agreed, taking his position at the side of the dojo, seeing that Zisu’s chore was done. “I do hope she reaches her destination safely.”

Zisu could hear the slight disappointment in his voice. No Akari today, and that meant none of those breakneck battles that he loved so much. They both knew that this was just the first day of several like this.

But concern also accompanied the disappointment, and Zisu noticed Ingo glance at the distant storm clouds.

As someone who tended to always emphasize the importance of safety checks, it came as no surprise to Zisu that Ingo was thinking of Akari’s safety. The Alabaster Icelands were dangerous, and while she was with the professor and a travel party, she was still just a kid.

“Aw, she’ll be back before you know it!” Zisu attempted to console the warden, patting him on the shoulder. “You prepared her and that big ol’ Purugly pretty well for the Icelands.”

That seemed to quell Ingo’s worries for a bit. His frown softened as he straightened his cap that Zisu had knocked crooked.

“I suppose…you’re right. Thank you, Miss Zisu.”

The two stood in their respective positions for half an hour before anyone had come to the training grounds.

The visitor was a single village boy, asking Ingo if they could battle for a few rounds to help toughen up his buizel; his father had suggested coming to Ingo for pointers before going out into the Fieldlands surrounding Jubilife.

Ingo obliged, and went a couple rounds with his Tangrowth, all the while giving tips to the boy about type advantages and disadvantages, and the pros and cons to agile and strong style moves.

Zisu watched the whole time. She could see just how much Ingo was holding back, for the sake of teaching the kid the very basics of battling. The rounds dragged horribly, with Ingo having to stop every time and explain something. His smile was not there throughout the whole battle, nor did it make an appearance when the training finished.

“Bravo! Excellent!” Ingo congratulated the boy and his buizel after the pair had managed to successfully initiate both an agile and strong style move. Ingo’s Tangrowth clapped alongside him in encouragement as well, before returning to its ball.

“Thank you for the training Mr. Ingo!” The boy hugged his buizel. “Now Dewey and I can go into the Fieldlands!”

“Indeed! Though, might I suggest departing for Miss Zisu first? Consider purchasing some grit dust for Dewey; it will make him even stronger.”

“Really? Thanks Mr. Ingo!” The boy cried again, his buizel barking happily alongside him, before the two ran over to Zisu to exchange some of the boy’s meager allowance for grit dust.

Zisu handed the boy a few pouches of the stuff, and as he ran for the training grounds’ exit, his buizel zipping after him, Zisu glanced back at Ingo.

The whole time, he had not smiled; neither in the conventional way, or his own way. Hospitality and kindness had been there, present on Ingo’s face the entire time he had been training with the boy - Ingo was always pleased to help others when he could- but that was not the same as enjoyment.

And for the rest of the day, nothing much had happened to change Ingo’s disposition.

The sun had risen higher in the sky as early morning crawled closer towards midday, before it began to dip lower. Very few people had come to the training grounds during this stretch of time. Ingo was always there to assist with training and tips, much at the same level as the village boy and his buizel from earlier. And Zisu had gotten a few requests to teach a new attack to a Pokémon, or exchange grit. But that was it.

All the while, the distant storm clouds rolled closer.

Come sunset, it was all quiet, and had been for the last hour and a half. Zisu had taken to re-wrapping the bandages around her wrists, tightening them, as she had nothing much else to do. Ingo had started to doze off, his head tipping down as he stood against the dojo in his stationed position.

Today was a very slow day indeed.

As Zisu finished tightening the wraps around her left arm, she glanced back up at Ingo. Leaned against the wall of the dojo with his arms crossed, the brim of his cap protected his closed eyes from the setting sun, and his neutral frown was set deep in his features. Even, heavy breaths indicated he had drifted off.

That frown…Zisu had noticed the warden had been largely dismal today. With how many times she had caught Ingo glancing in the direction of the Icelands, calculating the distance of the storm clouds, it was clear as day that he was still fretting over Akari.

She couldn’t let him do this to himself for the better half of a week! He needed something else on his mind, and the slow days at the dojo weren’t doing him any favors.

He needed something that could bring him the smiles that Akari could usually give him so easily.

“Ingo!” Zisu came up beside the warden and dropped a heavy arm over his shoulder, waking him up with a start.

“Miss Zisu!” Ingo reflexively replied, quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he slightly slumped under the weight of her arm. “Is something wrong? Did I miss a challenger? Apologies, I-“

“No, no-“ Zisu assured him, halting his worries as she patted his shoulder reassuringly. “You didn’t miss anybody, don’t worry; but you’re right, something is wrong!”

Ingo gave her a quizzical look; her playful tone indicated it wasn’t something serious, and it left Ingo more curious on what she was up to than anything else.

“Which is..?” Ingo initiated.

“I haven’t seen you smile once yet today!” Zisu finished.

Ingo’s look of curiosity quickly gave way to an unamused expression, but it wasn’t entirely one of annoyance.

“They’re quite rare, I hear,” Ingo sarcastically told her, relaying her own words from the day before.

“Hey! Let’s make a bet! I bet…I can get one of those big smiles out of you before Akari comes back!”

Zisu had been mindful to infer that Akari would indeed be coming back fine, to subconsciously smooth Ingo’s worries.

“There doesn’t have to be any ‘bet’,” Ingo reassured Zisu, putting his hands up to halt her train of thought. “I can present a smile for you right now. See?”

Ingo gave Zisu the best smile he could, but it was tragically stiff and scripted, not at all authentic and warm like they always were with Akari.

Zisu crossed her arms at the sight of the gesture, but her features were lighthearted; she was entertained at her peer’s attempt.

“That’s not the smile I see when you’re battling with Akari!” She retorted, laughing as Ingo’s scripted smile wavered slightly. “I’ll get you a real smile; after all, a smile a day keeps…the, uh…frown lines away!”

Ingo shook his head at the cheesy impromptu saying with the beginnings of a laugh.

“What do you get if you win this…’bet’?” Ingo questioned, hypothetically. He felt like no matter what, Zisu would following through with this whole ‘bet’ idea.

All Zisu really wanted was to cheer Ingo up, and help him do something else other than worry over these next several days. That would be reward enough for her.

“Just a big smile from you!” the captain told him, before flashing a playful grin. “They’re rare you know!”

Zisu’s bad saying may have started up a laugh for Ingo, but her good-natured ribbing continued it.

“I’m not sure that’s how bets work,” Ingo commented after a quiet huff of amusement. “It seems a bit one-sided-“

He was cut off by Zisu; He wasn’t outright rejecting this, and that was enough for her.

“-Now, It’s been a bit quiet around here for a bit too long. What do you say you and I have a battle? One of those with Akari always gets a big smile from you!”

Ingo’s eyes brightened at the proposition.

————

On the second day of Akari’s absence, Ingo entered the training grounds, right on schedule as usual, to see Zisu.

The captain was currently sitting down on a bench next to the dojo, with a box in her hands.

Yesterday’s battle with Ingo had been exhilarating…for Zisu at least. She knew Ingo was quite literally one of the best battlers in Hisui, but she never fully understood to what extent until she had a battle with him herself.

Zisu had much more experience battling than almost every other person in Jubilife, and that shown through well - she lasted quite a bit longer in a battle with Ingo than most other people would, and used lots of techniques.

Agile and strong moves were relied upon heavily, seeing as Zisu had worked hard to perfect these styles to teach others, and she got a few successful dodges in; she did her best to stay on top of typing matchups as well. Zisu had managed to last about seven rounds with Ingo before her last Pokémon crumpled on the field (which wasn’t bad, considering she only had four Pokémon!).

Of course, Ingo had followed it up with the most genuine and excited “Bravo, excellent!” She had heard from him all day. The amount of encouragement and entertainment in his voice, along with his clapping, had made Zisu almost feel like she was the victor instead of the loser!

Did Ingo do that on purpose to lessen the blow of defeat for every challenger he battled, it was he just that supportive of others?

Zisu guessed the latter, as she saw the pride and joy for her efforts apparent in his features from across the battlefield.

But what she didn’t see was a smile.

It was clear Ingo had thoroughly enjoyed the battle, as it had required more strategic thinking than he was used to here at the Jubilife training grounds, but it wasn’t enough to bring out that Akari smile.

Though, the point of the battle wasn’t to win, it was to make Ingo happy. And that was a start.

She would keep trying.

“Good morning, Miss Zisu!” Ingo broke Zisu from her thoughts, greeting her as always with a predictable wave. His other hand held onto his cap by the brim as a cold wind stirred, blowing through the training grounds. A darkening sky accompanied the brisk breeze today. “May I ask what is in the box?”

“Good Morning Ingo!” Zisu returned the warden’s greeting, before shifting the box in her hands. “I brought some potato mochi for us to share today!”

Zisu opened the box to present crisp, hot potato mochi to Ingo. The wind that was kicking up did nothing to diminish the scent of the mochi.

Ingo pressed a hand against his stomach to suppress a grumble; he always had breakfast in the mornings (it’s important to keep your engine running!), but the trip over to Jubilife always burned through a lot of the calories.

“Fresh from Beni’s kitchen!” Zisu plucked out a mochi for herself, before holding the box out to Ingo to let him take one. “I figured, with slower workdays ahead of us, we could take some time to enjoy some mochi together!”

“I am most grateful, Miss Zisu! Thank you!” Ingo pulled a mochi out of the box and bit into it. The subtle look of worry on Ingo’s face lessened as he sat down on the bench with the captain, finishing the mochi in a second bite. Zisu put the box between the two of them, for them both to enjoy as they pleased.

From the expression Ingo wore as he entered the training grounds, it had been clear on the trip over that he had been thinking about Akari’s safety again. Zisu was glad she had picked up some mochi that morning; she knew Ingo greatly enjoyed it, and had hoped that at least for a little while, it would distract him from his worries.

Plus, she still had a bet to win.

The potato mochi was finished quickly between the two of them, and Ingo sighed with contentment as he finished his last piece.

Zisu stole a side glance at him to see how she did. The look of satisfaction on his features couldn’t have been more apparent, but still, there was no Akari smile there.

“Not even Beni’s famous potato mochi wins an Akari smile, huh?” Zisu joked. She wasn’t disappointed; it just meant she would keep trying!

Ingo turned to her with a look of confusion, before it dawned on him what she was talking about. The bet!

“Miss Zisu, is that what this potato mochi was for? Thank you, but I have already satisfied the bet!” Ingo reasoned. He pulled another one of his scripted smiles to prove a point.

“Nice try,” Zisu elbowed him in the arm lightly, “but that’s not the smile I’m looking for!”

Zisu found it amusing that Ingo was actively trying to help her win this bet ‘against’ him, but it was even more amusing that it wasn’t really working.

“And you’re welcome, I know you enjoy Beni’s mochi.” Zisu smiled as she stood up, dusting her hands off on her clothes as she took the empty mochi box.

“I will repay you for the mochi! Tomorrow, I will bring a box for us when I arrive.” Ingo offered in a hurry, standing up and mirroring Zisu as he brushed his own hands off on his coat.

“Ingo, you don’t have to!” Zisu argued against it. “That was just a nice gesture from me!”

but Ingo was always keen on repaying others for their kindness.

————

On the third day since Akari had left, Zisu and Ingo started their morning with again finishing off a box of mochi that Ingo had brought this time (despite Zisu’s protests).

The day before had been tragically empty of visitors, even more so than the last. Only one or two people had come by the training grounds.

Perhaps it was due to the worsening weather.

Yesterday had been cold and windy, but today was rather dreary. The sky was dark and foreboding, threatening rain (but so far, this was an empty threat). A chill seeped into the bones of anyone that wasn’t wearing enough layers for the weather, and thunder rumbled in the distant sky every once in a while.

The hot mochi that Ingo had brought for Zisu and himself was thankfully keeping them both warm enough for the time being as they sat on the bench.

Yesterday Ingo had seemed a little worried. But more or less he had been in relatively good spirits. Today, however, he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of the foreboding clouds hovering above the Icelands, behind the mountains in the distance. In his stress, he had seemed to forget his sense of manners, and was absentmindedly cramming a whole mochi into his mouth at a time.

Zisu sat in silence, staring at the half eaten mochi in her hands as she let Ingo take piece after piece from the box.

What could she do to cheer him up? Nothing she had done yet had brought a smile to his face…

“Hey Ingo?” Zisu spoke up. The warden turned to her, mouth full of mochi. In a moment, he remembered his manners and quickly wiped his mouth.

“Hm?”

“…how about a joke?”

The question caught Ingo a little off guard, and he swallowed his mochi in surprise.

“I’ve been practicing,” Zisu added, a bit more of a playful tone seeping into her voice. And indeed, she had been practicing.

If deeds weren’t successful in getting Ingo to smile, perhaps something a bit more direct would work.

“Alright then, what’ve you got?” Ingo turned slightly to better face Zisu on the bench. Once again, a look of worry was overshadowed by intrigue. This was a good start, Zisu thought.

“Alright! How did it go…Ah, what did the Pokémon say when it sneezed?” Zisu started, trying to remember one of the many jokes she had prepared for today.

This was a simple one! Surely he could get this.

“Hmm, a sneeze…” Ingo thought for a moment, scratching his head under his cap. “Sneasler’s kits make sounds akin to sneezing a lot…hmm…’Sneeze-el’?”

That was not the answer Zisu was looking for at all, but it still worked in its own way, she supposed!

“No, but that is a good guess!” Zisu corrected him. “But what I had in mind was ‘Pik-achoo’-“

“-bless you.” Ingo cut her off, a look of amusement in his eyes as he huffed a small laugh, satisfied that the captain had fallen into his trap.

It took Zisu a moment to see what Ingo had done. He had known the answer! He was just messing around with her, playing his own joke!

“Hey!” Zisu drowned out Ingo’s quiet chuckle with a much louder bark of laughter. “That’s not how that was supposed to go!”

“Well, you have a lot of chances to tell more today,” Ingo dusted off his hands, having polished off the mochi as he stood up and stretched his back. A lighthearted disposition was heard in his voice, despite the ever-present frown.

Well, Zisu took every chance she got, and with no one at the training grounds, she had a lot of chances. Every time she could manage to cram in a joke, one-liner, or pun, she did.

Ingo would ask her to do a task?

“Miss Zisu, could you please hand me the broom? The dojo’s entrance is a little dusty today, and I don’t want rain to mix with it and make things muddy.”

“I’m On-ix!”

“…while I do that, could you bring those boxes inside?

“Abra-lutely!”

Ingo would tell her he was going to skip his lunch break?

“You’re going to dew-wott??”

“Miss Zisu, I had a lot of potato mochi this morning!”

Ingo was caught with a little too much time on his hands, glancing at the Icelands for a little too long?

“Hey Ingo! Which Pokémon makes you sigh every time you mention it? Scyther!”

sigh!

“Don’t get so Hera-cross with me, I’m only trying to Cherrim you up!”

“Miss Zisu!”

And if Ingo tried to appease her bet with yet another smile, still as forced as ever…

“That’s not the smile I’m looking for Ingo, but don’t worry, the day’s not sn-over yet!”

Zisu personally thought they were great, but a lot of them were pretty terrible; the cheaper they were, the louder Ingo groaned as he shook his head. But it was good-natured, and Zisu could tell it was keeping him occupied; she caught him laughing quietly to himself several times as he would walk away.

But still, there was no big Akari smile.

As the day wound down, and the sun had made its way lower to meet the mountainline, Ingo and Zisu had decided to close up the training grounds early. No one had come by for the last three hours, and a light drizzle was starting to fall; the dark heavy clouds had finally followed through with their threat.

Zisu shut the doors to the dojo, keeping her back to the gust of wind and rainfall. Everything was dark, save for a single lantern hanging near the dojo’s door, illuminating the two. A flock of starly flew in the distance, silhouetted by the dark clouds as they made their way back to the safety of their nests in the Fieldlands.

“It looks like the weather’s gonna get worse before it gets better. I don’t think anyone will be coming up here for training anytime soon…you won’t be coming in tomorrow, will you?” Zisu asked.

“I must maintain my duties at this station, even if there are no passengers waiting to board,” ingo secured his cap on his head against the wind, the other holding his coat closed to keep the rain from soaking his tunic. “I will arrive tomorrow on schedule.”

Zisu would have questioned this decision otherwise, but she knew why Ingo wanted to come in to the training grounds tomorrow.

He wanted to be here when Akari’s expedition returned, and he probably didn’t want to be without company right now, left to his own thoughts of worry.

Zisu knew that Ingo had Sneasler and the kits, who he had been returning to every night in the highlands to check up on, but she liked to think that perhaps her efforts to keep him happy and distracted were helping, and he was seeking out more of her company.

“Roger that! You’ll see me here tomorrow as well then!” Zisu announced, pulling on the dojo doors once to make sure she locked them.

In the darkness and the drizzle, Ingo’s cap was pulled down over his eyes, his pose stiff and tight against the cold rainfall, but his eyes softened, as did his frown.

————

On the fourth day since Akari had left, Zisu was already at the training grounds, inside the dojo and doing her morning stretches by the time Ingo arrived, walking through the gates to the training grounds. The sky was dark as ever, rain coming down hard and steady.

“Good morning, Miss Zisu!” Ingo waved a greeting to her as he approached the dojo at a brisk pace, instead of stationing himself where he always did outside of the building. While outwardly expressed a frown, soaking wet as he wrung water from his coat just outside the door, Zisu could still spot the warmth of the greeting in his eyes (Amongst the morning tiredness, at least).

Satisfied with how much water he was able to wring out of his clothes, Ingo finally stepped through the entryway of the dojo, a crack of thunder rumbling loudly as he closed the doors behind him.

“I promise, it’s really fine if you just use Zisu!” The captain quipped lightheartedly as she finished her stretching, getting one last crack out of her shoulder. “But, good morning to you too…I hope you’re ready to smile today!”

And with that, the lingering warmth in Ingo’s eyes were quickly replaced with something akin to ‘I should have expected this’.

“Jokes yesterday, potato mochi the day before, and a battle the day before that…What should I be expecting today?” The warden rhetorically asked as he shook the water off of his hat, already mentally preparing himself.

“Hey, I haven’t gotten you to do your smile yet!” Zisu told him. “And Akari is coming back within a day or two!”

Ingo followed this up with yet another half-hearted stiff smile, like he did every time, in an attempt to appease her…as if this time would somehow be any different, and she’d finally let go of this bet.

“That’s not it!” Zisu lightly elbowed him in the arm, finding each attempt as endearing as the last…he was trying at least, and she found it amusing.

Zisu turned her attention to the inside of the dojo, getting a good look at the room as she gestured to it.

“Anyways, seems we’re stuck inside for today…and the dojo is in need of a good interior reorganizing.”

Ingo glanced around the inside of the building. Zisu was exactly right, a good reorganizing was in order. Boxes of grit and mastery seeds were stacked in a disorderly fashion, and various items Zisu used to help teach new attacks to Pokémon were haphazardly strewn about in piles.

The room was an absolute mess, to put it bluntly.

“A disorganized station is a station bound for accidents,” Ingo mused as he browsed through one of the boxes. “Seeing as nothing else is on today’s schedule, we will take care of this post haste!”

A squeak near Ingo got Zisu’s attention, and her eyes drifted to behind him. However, nothing was there.

“What was..?”

“Ah, you have yet to meet my passenger for today,” Ingo changed tracks, and pulled his coat back for Zisu to see.

A tiny sneaslet had secured itself to Ingo’s side, pressed tightly against his tunic, and chirping happily at its reveal to the woman, waving a little claw out towards her. From under Ingo’s coat, it had managed to stay perfectly dry.

“We have arrived at our destination, little lady! You can now let go.” Ingo instructed the little Pokémon.

With another chirp, the tiny sneaslet dropped out of his coat and onto the dojo flooring, but still stuck close to the shoes of the warden as opposed to exploring. Even for her age, she seemed a bit small, and in turn seemed more cautious of the new settings of a building interior, quite different from the mountainous terrain of the highlands, or her cozy cave.

“She’s so cute!” Zisu exclaimed at the sight of the baby. “Is this the late hatcher you and Akari took care of?”

“She is,” Ingo confirmed, thinking back to that time a few weeks back. He had been lucky Akari had been there to help him with the egg. “Lady Sneasler is starting to teach her kits to hunt for themselves. The last few times made it apparent this one isn’t ready however. Her siblings are prone to take advantage of her smaller nature, and it has…not been good for her developmental skills, or her confidence. Especially with such weather conditions, I have decided to bring her with me today while her siblings hunt, and watch her myself.”

A very small quirk of a smile, a genuine one, tugged at the edges of his mouth. “…Akari opted to name her Powder.”

“Such a perfect name!” Zisu doted over the name as she bent down to be more level with the sneaslet, still hiding Behind Ingo’s legs. “Little Pow-Pow!”

Zisu exaggerated the nickname with two little playful punches, as if the name was an onomatopoeia for punching, and to her surprise, Powder half-mimicked the action, half-heartedly punching the air with one little claw and a tiny chirp.

“So cute!” Zisu exclaimed, before Ingo fished something out of his pocket and held his hand out to her.

“Powder is quite bold when she’s comfortable, but she leans a bit on the shy side. She is partial to these; you can give her one, if you would like. It will help her warm up to you.”

Ingo kept his hand held out patiently, and when Zisu cupped her hands under his to receive it, Ingo dropped a plump bean pod into them.

“I have quite a bit of these today,” Ingo told Zisu as a hand went back over his coat, presumably over the pocket where the beans were held. “I intend to use these to help her practice hunting today.”

Zisu inspected the bean pod momentarily, before holding it out to Powder. The sneaslet was still obscured behind Ingo’s leg, but at the sight of the bean pod, her eyes lit up and she took a step out from her hiding place, making her way towards the captain.

Tiny claws grasped at the bean pod, and carefully lifted it from Zisu’s hand to begin peeling back the pod layers, and get to the beans inside. However, powder ran back to the safety of Ingo before she actually began to nibble on the treat, tiny teeth munching on the beans as wide eyes stared at Zisu in admiration.

“Powder is such a sweet thing,” Zisu professed, affection apparent on her face as she brushed her hands off on her clothing. “It’s a shame her siblings are leaving her out.”

“Indeed,” Ingo tipped his cap as Powder finished her treat and tossed the empty pod aside. “Siblings should be there to help one another, not set them back.”

Ingo reached into his coat pocket again, and pulled out another handful of beans. Powder’s eyes lit up at the sight.

“Which is why we will assist Powder in improving her hunting skills! If her siblings won’t help her reach the intended station of improvement, we will!”

————

The morning had gone incredibly well.

With yet another day of barely any activity at the training grounds, Ingo and Zisu quickly cleaned up the inside of the dojo, the rain pouring down outside the entire time. With that done, they spent the rest of morning with Powder, helping her hone her hunting skills.

Zisu hadn’t known the extent of her stunted skills until Ingo had started taking out bean pods and hiding them around the inside of the dojo. Ingo’s Tangrowth, meanwhile was distracting the sneaslet and playing with her just outside of the building, still dry and safe from the rain under the dojo’s extended roof.

“Won’t Powder be hunting things that are, you know…moving?” Zisu questioned, curious as Ingo tucked a bean pod into one of the many boxes against a wall, full of mastery seeds.

“Her siblings have severely stunted her,” Ingo explained. “Developing hunting skills with sneasel always starts with sniffing out stationary food, such as plump beans. However, Powder’s siblings would always reach such food before Powder could ever sniff any out. We have to build up this skill first before moving onto prey.”

Ingo tucked another bean away into a currently-unused lantern. While these were certainly not places Powder would find beans in the wild terrain of the highlands, it was the best he could do, within the confines of the dojo.

“While this isn’t the ideal place for hunting, it’s a good place to start, as Powder will have to differentiate the scent of food among the scent of the other people and Pokémon that have traversed here.”

Ingo sure knew a lot about Pokémon development, Zisu concluded as she followed him back to his Tangrowth, who was still busy distracting Powder just outside the door, the pittering of rain coming down stronger now.

“Alright, little lady!” Ingo addressed the sneaslet as Tangrowth detangled one of its limbs from her and placed her in Ingo’s arms, before taking a step into the rain to bask in the drizzle; Powder had taken to using the vines as a swing of sorts. “Are you ready?”

The sneaslet chirped in Ingo’s arms quietly. Ingo could see she was not confident in her hunting skills at all, and nervous about how well she would do. Ingo knew however that it was because all she had ever known was failure, due to her siblings stunting her efforts…this time would be different.

Thunder sounded off in the distance, and lighting lit up the sky over the Icelands momentarily. Powder gave a quiet, uncertain chirp and snuggled deep into Ingo’s tunic as he looked back at where the lightning struck, holding the tiny Pokémon reassuringly; Powder would much rather just be held, and Ingo wished he was holding a certain person safe in his arms right now.

Akari was already on her way back by now, far away from that place, surely…

“You can do it,” Ingo encouraged her as he scratched behind her ear, before setting her on the ground. “Find the beans!”

Powder let out another chirp as she hesitantly started sniffing the air. She turned her head in one direction, towards the dojo’s entrance; cautiously she entered, still sniffing for a stronger scent, and turned to face a table with some cloth on it. After a moment though, she shook her head and changed direction to approach a box in the corner, full of mastery seeds.

“Good job Powder!” Zisu whispered quietly next to Ingo, not too loud as to give away Powder’s success before she would find the beans herself.

The sheer joy that glowed off of Powder’s scrunched muzzle as she dug around in the box for a moment, before pulling out a single bean pod between her claws was infectious enough to spread to Ingo and Zisu.

“Bravo Powder!” Ingo clapped loudly, the pride visible in his eyes despite his ever-present frown. “Excellent!”

“Good job!!” Zisu reiterated to the tiny Pokémon with a thumbs up, as the sneaslet peeled back the pod layers and scarfed down the beans. With a slightly more confident chirp, Powder once again sniffed the air and headed for one of the unused lanterns, quicker and more sure of herself this time.

It had taken about an hour for Powder to find all of the hidden bean pods, but as she plucked the last pod from its hiding place and held it up triumphantly, Ingo counted it as the 15th one he had hidden, which meant she had found all of them!

“Bravo Powder!” Ingo once again congratulated the tiny Pokémon as she popped the beans into her mouth, discarding the pod with a squeak of happiness. “You found all of them, excellent work! I was certain you could do it!”

With a yelp of joy, the tiny Pokémon ran for Ingo and leapt into his arms, snuggling into his chest as he caught her and picked her up. Thankfully, his thick coat and tunic protected him from her small (but potent) claws that latched onto him.

“Oof! -perhaps, no more beans for you, though!” Ingo commented quietly as Powder continued to nuzzle into him, responding to his encouragement. The beans themselves were not too heavy, but with all of that now packed into a tiny body such as Powder’s, she was quite a bit heavier than before.

“She did really well!” Zisu commented, coming closer. She wanted to give Powder an encouraging head pat, but refrained from doing so, in case the little Pokémon wasn’t used to her yet.

“I knew she would, she just needed a fair chance.” Ingo placed Powder back down on the ground, and she chirped happily, but stuck close to his feet - most likely in hopes she would get more beans. “If we keep practicing, her skills will rival her siblings’ in no time, if not surpass them entirely!”

A louder peal of thunder split through the sky outside, deep enough to grab the attention of everyone inside the dojo. Powder gave a small mewl and gripped Ingo’s pant leg, as Zisu and himself glanced at the dojo’s doors.

Reminded of the condition of the weather outside, Zisu could see all the worries that had crawled to the back of Ingo’s mind return in an instant.

He moved to slide open one of the dojo’s doors and gaze out to the Icelands, as if looking to see if the weather out there had at least mellowed out. The colder atmosphere from outside chilled the inside of the dojo.

“She’s going to be ok,” Zisu tried to reassure Ingo, coming up next to him. “I’m sure she’s on her way back right now; she said she’d be back in four to six days, right?”

“Correct.” Ingo verified, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s just…I know how severe the weather can get up there.”

Ingo’s gaze did not leave the distant Icelands.

“I’ve been up there when it gets rough, and I don’t want her to be caught up in that.”

Ingo thought back to when the Pearl Clan had found him. He remembered nothing much of anything before the incident, apparently having been caught in a raging snowstorm and found in a snowbank amongst the aftermath. But he remembered how he felt coming out of it; an aching body and numerous severe injuries he felt for weeks after, all while staving off a bad case of initial frostbite.

It was one of the first things he remembered in terms of his time here in Hisui. He did not want Akari to have to go through that, especially for some expedition trip she wasn’t even supposed to go on.

Akari had a travel party and a strong team of Pokémon to protect her, yes, but she was just a kid, and there were certain situations where simply having a strong team would not have been enough.

Flash blizzard, avalanche, getting snowed in…

“But you are right.” Ingo concluded, trying to self-assure himself. “I am sure Miss Akari is on her way back right now.”

Ingo was interrupted to feel a sudden weight tugging on one side of his coat, and he glanced down just in time to see Powder let go of his coat pocket, several beans in her tiny claws.

How could she possibly want more?

Having been caught red-handed, the sneaslet promptly ran off to hide in one of the boxes in the room to quickly peel and scarf down the beans, as if Ingo would take them away.

Instead, he just shook his head at the sight, standing within the open doorway of the dojo.

“Oh, smart little lady! It seems I can no longer keep them in my coat pockets.” Ingo considered. When Powder was not watching, still invested in her stolen treats within the box, Ingo tipped his cap back and tucked the rest of the plump beans away under it.

Surely she could not reach them all the way up there, he thought as he readjusted the cap.

“She loves her beans,” Zisu commented as she watched Powder poke her head out of the box, trying to steer the subject away from the ongoing storm, onto something less heavy.

“A bit too much, it seems,” Ingo added as the tiny sneaslet made her way out of the box, sneaking over back to Ingo’s shoes in an attempt to try and get more beans. “Perhaps I should not have brought so many extra beans aside from what was needed strictly for hunting practice today.”

“I would agree, that seemed like a bit of an…Overquil.” After some hesitation, Zisu attempted another pun in an effort to lighten the mood even more. Plus, she found Ingo’s groaning over her bad puns to be entertaining.

However, she was pleasantly surprised to notice Ingo flinch with a snicker, a small smile on his face. It wasn’t what she was trying to get out of him, but it was the most authentic smile she’d seen from him in days.

Could this lead to what she was pushing for? Perhaps she was finally on to something!

“First time I’ve seen you smile like that at my jokes before!” Zisu shot Ingo a side glance, a look of amusement on her face. “It wasn’t even one of my good ones, I used all of those yesterday! …are you one of those fellows who enjoy really bad jokes? Should I tell more?”

“Ahem- apologies! It was not the joke, Powder is the- ah, cause of that.” Ingo jolted again slightly, breaking up his speech, and reached across himself, pulling his coat back to grab at something under it.

With his coat pulled back, Zisu could see Powder was no longer at Ingo’s shoes, but now climbing up his side. Having already investigated the inside pockets of his coat and finding them empty, she had started looking elsewhere. Each time the tiny sneaslet readjusted her little claws for a new grip, or nuzzled her face into the thick fabric of his tunic, sniffing in search of something, Ingo winced.

Zisu would have thought the claws were actually hurting him, if not for the fact the warden seemed to stifle a laugh every time he flinched.

When Ingo reached to pull Powder off of him, she made a little squeak, quickly moving out of reach and behind his back.

“She is searching for the beans; Miss Zisu, would you be so kind as to assist me and retrieve Powder? I cannot reach her,” he requested as he extended an arm back to grasp for Powder unsuccessfully.

“You wanted her to go hunting for them, didn’t you?” Zisu joked as she simply crossed her arms at the sight, not answering Ingo’s question or moving to help. She found the situation entertaining.

“I would have hoped she didn’t go looking for them so uRGEntly!“ Ingo’s voice wavered as a tiny claw gripped around at his other side. Powder’s face popped out of his coat with a squeak as she tried to climb her way up and across Ingo’s chest, nearing her goal, but the warden took the chance to finally grab her up and pry her off of him. Powder was chirping excitedly and trying to wiggle out of Ingo’s grip, reaching in vain for his cap.

“It seems she has figured out where they are, though. And her claws are rather ticklish,” Ingo stated matter of factly, traces of a smile still on his face despite his voice regaining its composure. He gently closed his hand around her outstretched poisonous claws, moving them further away from his face before she could accidentally scratch any bare skin, and he placed her back down at his feet.

Powder immediately dashed away a distance to hide in a box of grit dust, stewing in her thoughts as she waited for another chance to climb for the beans.

“You’re ticklish?” Zisu questioned the warden. The thought amused the captain; while he was certainly kind and friendly to anyone he interacted with, Ingo outwardly gave off a rather stoic appearance. The thought of him being ticklish never crossed her mind, and it seemed like quite a contrast against that persona.

The simple inquiry made Ingo turn his head at her a bit too quickly. It seemed he knew what she was considering.

Zisu’s grin only widened when he cleared his throat, adjusting the brim of his cap in a nervous manner as he looked back away from her.

A very dry, not at all confident “I suspect most everyone probably is, to some degree. Now, I think-” was all he vaguely answered with, before quickly trying to derail Zisu’s train of thought. However, he was unsuccessful at this.

“Ingo, I think I know how to win that bet!”Zisu interrupted the warden, keeping the current train of thought going. The way she raised her hands up drained Ingo’s face of color.

“I can assure you Miss Zisu, there is no bet! There never had to be a bet!” Ingo tried to reason as he started to pull back from the tall woman, but it was no use. He pulled another smile in a final attempt to appease her, but this time it was nervous and pleading. “See? …Miss Zisu? Please do nOT-!” Ingo’s voice jumped as he felt a finger jab into his side, right under his ribs.

Despite half-expecting it, the sensation made the warden practically leap out of his skin with a sound of surprise, and he reflexively moved away, But Zisu followed him as she continued to playfully poke at his torso. The uncharacteristic sounds Ingo made were humorous, especially when she got a particularly good jab at his stomach or his ribs, which caused him to snort.

“GAHah! Z-Zisu!” was all Ingo could choke out through his clenched teeth, finally disregarding the formal ‘miss’ title he always added in his desperation to push her hands away from any ticklish areas. But with Zisu being the taller and more fit one between the two of them, it was futile - each time he moved his hands to protect one spot, Zisu simply jumped to a spot he left open. With not much room to move in the crowded dojo, Ingo started to crumple in a fit of poorly-contained laughter, but Zisu kept him upright, holding him up by his coat.

“ZIsu! GaH!! NoT thERE!!”

“Come on, I’m not stopping until you give a big smile!” Zisu warned him. One hand held his coat secure while the other continued to tickle at his stomach, causing stutters of laughter to spill from Ingo’s mouth.

Even with his eyes shut tight and the brim of his hat obscuring his expression as he faced downwards, Zisu could still see a wide grin tugging on the corners of Ingo’s mouth, laughter spilling through clenched teeth. Even if it wasn’t exactly voluntary, it was an authentic smile!

“There it is!” Zisu announced heartily, barely heard over Ingo’s loud, awkward bouts of laughter.

As the warden was in shambles, Powder saw her chance and zipped out of her stewing spot to Ingo. Grasping at his pant leg, she began to climb up the warden again in pursuit of the reward under his cap.

“Yeah! Go for it Pow-Pow!” Zisu encouraged the sneaslet as it chirped excitedly, spurred on by the encouragement. She had already grasped onto the edge of Ingo’s tunic, and was making rapid progress towards his hat.

“P-Powder!” Ingo urged the Pokémon to stop in a miserable attempt to dissuade her. He put an arm up to hold onto his hat, but quickly snapped it back down against his side when Zisu tickled into his underarm, taking advantage of the opening. “Z-Zisu! Do nOT encourage this beHAVior!”

“Oh let her have them!” Zisu laughed instead, beaming as the tiny Pokémon finally clambered onto Ingo’s shoulder with a yelp of happiness, and slipped her claws under his cap, grasping at the beans.

Quick as a flash, the little lady had snatched the reward up in her paws, and pounced off the warden, dashing out through the dojo’s open door and into the rain, under the training ground’s platform to enjoy her prize in relative peace.

Ingo’s Tangrowth, who had still been outside soaking up the rain into their roots, shot a quizzical expression towards Powder, then Ingo and Zisu, wondering what had happened.

As soon as Powder had her treats, Zisu let go of Ingo, and he he slumped forward protectively, using his hands to rub the lingering sensations out of where Zisu had tickled him.

He was out of breath, and wearily readjusting his cap and coat between wiping a few stray tears from his eyes, but some soft laughter still lingered, and Zisu could see a smile left behind on his face. It was small, but it was authentic and it was there.

“…p-please refrain from doing that again, Miss Zisu!” Ingo wheezed as he picked himself up and leaned against the dojo’s doorway, still getting his breath back. He pulled his coat closed as if to protect himself from further attacks. “I find the sensation…unbearable!”

“Well then, don’t smile so big when you’re tickled!” The captain laughed at the display, putting a hand on his shoulder again as she always did, but this time to steady him.

“It is…not exactly voluntary!” With a flushed face, Ingo glanced out to Powder through the rain, still nice and dry under the protection of the training ground’s platform. She was happily using her claws to peel back the treats’ outer layers, eager to get to the beans inside and scarf them down. A small pile of empty bean pods already laid strewn about next to her.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Powder chirped with delight as she made eye contact with Ingo, knowing full well that she had outmaneuvered him, despite his best efforts.

“I can only hope now that Powder does not get sick eating so many. Let us hope she does not relay this to her siblings either, lest they expect this kind of behavior to be acceptable as well! Lady Sneasler would not be pleased with me, encouraging such habits with her kits,” The warden brushed himself off a final time, straightening out his coat.

A hand went up to straighten his cap, but grasped at air. After a moment, Ingo felt Zisu situate the previously-missing cap, which had been knocked off, back onto his scruffy hair.

“Oh lighten up Ingo, she’ll be fine!“ She reassured him. “And I won our bet! I got to see that authentic Ingo smile!”

“We didn’t have a bet,” Ingo insisted once again with the same amount of patience in his voice, as if he was reminding her of this for the first time, not the twentieth, “I had smiled for you several times!”

“None of them were the smiles that Akari can get out of you so easily though, and I made sure you had a good time instead of worrying while she was away!” Zisu laughed. “And speaking of that wonderful girl, looks like I won the bet right on time!”

Ingo had no time to process that indeed, Zisu had kept him from excessively worrying, and he had actually had a good time overall (even if he still didn’t understand the bet…he had voluntarily smiled for her several times!). He would have thanked her, but Zisu pointed across the training grounds, and Ingo’s gaze followed to see Akari was standing there at the entrance, in the rain.

She clearly had just gotten back from her expedition, and from the looks of it, had managed to avoid the storm in the Icelands! Ingo was flooded with relief to see this!

In her hands was a container of sorts, full of materials from the Icelands (most likely things she brought back to give to Ingo as presents), and pokeballs (probably containing Pokémon she had caught on the trip that she wanted to show Ingo). Her clothes were scuffed up and muddied, and she looked a little worse for wear herself. A rufflet, one of her own Pokémon she had presumably caught on her expedition, was perched upon her head with extended wings in an effort to keep her dry. But behind the weary exterior, her ever-present energy and friendliness still shown through.

Though her current most prominent feature was the obvious look of awe on her face.

How much of what just happened with Zisu had she seen?

“Miss Akari!” Ingo called out, his voice strained with several emotions. He was absolutely overjoyed to see that Akari was back, safe and sound! Relief visibly snuffed out the worry that had accumulated in him over these last few days. But…how long had she been there, watching them? “You’ve arrived back at the earliest scheduled date! Er, welcome back to the station! I am glad to see you have arrived back safely! …How was your trip?”

A moment of agonizing silence.

“You’re ticklish?!” Akari yelled back to him across the training grounds as she dropped her box of trinkets, loud enough for anyone in the general area to hear, much to Ingo’s dismay.

The devious look in her eyes as she took a step closer told Ingo all he needed to know.

Zisu’s laughing off to his side, and Powder’s snickering under the platform didn’t help the situation. Ingo didn’t even want to look at his Tangrowth at this moment, given the circumstances.

Of all things for Ingo to expect from Akari when she got back…it was something akin to a tight hug, or an hour of blurting out the details of her trip! Not this!

“Miss Akari, please no!”

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plus-size-reader · 3 years ago

Text

Should Be

Damon Salvatore x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2897 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Damon’s human partner gets jealous of Katherine when she gets out of the tomb.

—————————————————————————————————

Katherine coming back from the tombs wasn’t ideal for anyone.

There was a reason she’d been locked away for as long as she had and really, you didn’t get why they were letting her out in the first place.

The world was going to keep turning whether or not they let her be a part of it. At least, that was what Damon had assured you when the news broke that she had resurfaced.

You didn’t want to care.

In reality, her coming back to Mystic Falls wasn’t any of your business. You hadn’t ever had anything to do with her, and you wouldn’t, even if she came back.

Still, it would be a lie to say that you weren’t really comfortable with it.

The two of them, Katherine and Damon, they had quite a bit of history and you just couldn’t fit the feeling in the pit of your stomach that it was going to be bad news for you. It just didn’t seem right.

Maybe you were jealous, or insecure, or something like that but it didn’t really matter. All you knew was that you weren’t itching for her to come back into any of your lives.

Damon was different, for the better, than when the two of you met but Katherine had quite the hold on him for a really long time and you were worried how her poking around in your lives would affect him.

It couldn’t be good, even if she was magically on her best behavior, somehow.

You just didn’t see that happening.

You weren’t jealous, of course, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. You and Damon had been together for several years, and you knew that he loved you. It was the sort of connection that you’d never had with another person, having been enthralled with him ever since he saved your life.

As it would turn out, that was quite the bonding exercise.

However, no experience you and Damon had ever shared could compare to all the time he and Katherine had been together.

They had been in love, and whether it was real for her or not, Damon had never really even gotten over her betrayal. He cared about her deeply, and you couldn’t imagine how seeing her again would make him feel.

Until recently, you thought that you trusted Damon more than anything.

You trusted him with your life for God's sake and you were sure that nothing would ever change that, but evidently, Katherine had decided to challenge that notion.

Ever since she’d come back into all your lives, she had made a choice to just inject herself into every situation you were in. Even now, from where you were in the bathroom brushing your teeth, you could hear her talking to him in the adjacent bedroom.

It was nothing more than pathetic small talk about their past together but it was more than enough to make your blood boil.

You knew more than enough about the bond they had shared and the time they spent together, you didn’t need to hear it from her on top of everything else that was on your plate.

She might not have been too much of a real threat to you, because you knew that no matter what she did, there was no undoing what she’d done to him but that didn’t make you like her any better.

Frankly, even knowing that, you’d had enough of Lady Katherine.

Her presence here, where you lived, was like a slap in the face.

Decades had passed since they were even in the same room and even then, she had done nothing more than treat him like dirt.

It seemed like common sense that she was just going to do it again, but he was letting her. Damon was barely even putting up a fight and really, you were finding it hard to believe.

After everything that she had put him through, why would he even entertain her presence in this place.

He didn’t owe her anything, not anymore.

You thought that what you and Damon had was more important to him than anything else, but if her coming back into his life was enough to make him question that, it said a lot.

So, even though you wanted to go tell her to get out, you kept it to yourself.

Not well, but you kept it to yourself.

You may have been brushing your teeth more aggressively than you ever had in your entire life, but you hadn’t said anything yet.

For you, that was a win.

Deep down, you weren’t really worried about losing him to her. If Katherine had actually bothered to get to know him all those years ago, she would know that Damon was one of the most devoted and loving men in the world.

He was now, and you were sure that he had been before all this.

You just had to break down those walls of his first.

It took some time but it was well worth it once you earned his trust. You knew that he would do anything for you, and anyone else he loved, she just didn’t actually care.

Not that it mattered to her what kind of bond you two had.

As far as she was concerned, you were just some temporary fling that Damon would get bored of and feed off of at some point, like he did most of the others. He had never actually kept a girlfriend around for very long.

He wasn’t the kind, and in any case, she was sure that you couldn’t hold a candle to her.

She had a hold on him that had lasted, at least somewhat, for all the time that she’d been locked away and in a matter of days, she was sure she could have the raven-haired male eating out of the palm of her hand.

It was that easy.

All she had to do was prove it, and at this rate, it wasn’t going to take long at all.

Here she was, sitting new to him on your fancy little bedspread with him, practically hanging on her every word while you were tucked away. Before long, she wouldn’t have to put up with you anymore at all.

He was bound to come to his senses at some point, and she had nothing but time.

She could wait it out.

Tonight though, she couldn’t have gotten away from you that easily.

You could only hide away in the bathroom for so long and once that time had run out, you entered the bathroom with a casual sigh leaving Katherine’s lips at the sight of you.

Just when she was starting to bring up all those good memories they shared, here you came to ruin it all.

“Could you please move over?” you asked, only looking at her as much as you absolutely had to, catching the tail end of an eye roll that you would have been okay with missing entirely.

All she did was scoff, clearly inconvenienced.

“Why? Am I hurting you here?” she asked, not bothering to cover up the hatefulness in her tone, not that you or Damon was surprised. Speaking of, the dark haired male was still just sitting there, waiting for someone to lunge at the other.

He wasn’t a huge fan of her being here either, but he was trying to be civil.

There was a chance they would need her and burning that bridge too early could cause problems along the way, or at least that was what Stefan told him.

He’d lived without her for a long time and he’d be fine if she fell off the face of the earth tomorrow. Though, if she kept testing you, she may not make it until tomorrow.

She may have had the upper hand over you as far as vampire strength was concerned but you all knew that if she tried to do anything to you, he would turn her head so far around that she’d be the one really out of place.

He wasn’t going to let her hurt you, not if it really came down to it.

“That’s where I sleep,” you explained, gesturing to where she was, sprawled out on your side of the bed, without a care in the world. It wasn’t the kind of thing that you even thought you had to explain but she was pushing you.

She wanted to start a fight.

To Katherine, this was all a game and she had nothing to lose.

There were no rules and she was betting on the fact that she could break you with very little effort.

However, there was one thing she was forgetting. You and Damon shared something she could never hope to have with him, something she had given up a long time ago.

Love

You respected Damon and you cared about him.

The two of you were together through the good times and the bad, not just when you needed something from him or you were bored. In that way, she couldn’t hope to touch what you shared.

Still, there was one thing that worried you.

Katherine was gorgeous.

Her body was incredible, and she had no problem showing it off which she had made very clear tonight. Where you would have wanted to hide away and never go outside again, she just strolled around in nearly nothing, without a care in the world.

Emotionally, you and Damon couldn’t have been closer but physically, you couldn’t help but feel like she would beat you had there been some kind of competition.

Even you would have chosen her over you in that regard.

When she stood from the bed, dramatically throwing her hair over her shoulder to give Damon one final wink before leaving, you got a good look at her long legs, even further making you rethink yourself.

Why was Damon with you when he could have had her all this time? Sure, he didn’t know she was down there until today but now that he knew, there was nothing keeping him from picking her.

After she’d left, you plopped down on your side of the bed, immediately turning away from Damon and cuddling into your pillow.

You knew it wasn’t his fault you were having these thoughts about yourself, but you didn’t want to be around him right now.

You didn’t want him to be reminded of what he could have had.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked, after a few seconds of sitting in the dark, staring at the back of your head without a kiss on his lips. You always kissed him before bed, but tonight, you didn’t even seem to care if he was breathing.

It was unlike you and it worried him, not that he would ever admit it.

You didn’t answer right away, letting his words simmer in the air for a few moments as you thought about what you wanted to say. There weren’t really words that would make any sense to him.

From where he was sitting, you would seem jealous and out of your mind but this wasn’t about Katherine anymore.

For you, this was about how he’d settled with the wrong woman and you couldn’t help but feel like he was lying to you about his feelings.

How could he be attracted to you when you looked like you did?

You had asked him before, on a bad day when you woke up feeling huge and ugly, but this was different. Katherine prancing around here had shown you everything that you could have looked like.

What you should have looked like.

“It’s nothing, let’s just go to bed” you tried, far too physically and mentally exhausted to have this conversation.

For now, you just wanted to get some sleep, you could deal with Katherine and all her business tomorrow.

As for your body, that was just going to have to be tomorrow's problem as well. Physical exhaustion always won out over mental anguish, no matter how much you tried to force your own hand in that regard.

All you could hope was that you felt better in the morning, and maybe then, you could explain all this weird stuff to Damon.

You woke up to a cold bed, which was pretty much par for the course when it came to sleeping next to a vampire but when you rolled around and found he was gone, that was when you got a little worried.

That was new.

Damon never got out of bed before you, if he even got out of bed when you did, and you couldn’t help but be concerned about what he could have been doing.

Knowing Damon, it could have literally been anything.

Though, the last thing you expected to find when you turned the corner was the man you loved, trying and failing to make what smelled like chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs.

“Good morning my love, would you care to explain why I went to bed without a goodnight kiss?” he wondered, focusing more on the glass of bourbon in his hands than the breakfast that was surely burning on the stove.

He always tried his best where the more domestic stuff was concerned but it just wasn’t his strong suit. He just wasn’t as much of a wiz in the kitchen as he liked to pretend that he was in moments like this.

“After I put out the grease fire you’re about to start” you sighed, moving the pan from the fire and setting it in the sink.

Damon wasn’t going to let you get off easy after last night, but the most you could do was buy yourself some time before you made an absolute fool out of yourself.

He wasn’t about to just let this go.

He never did.

“I’m serious, you got all squirrely after Katherine left” Damon prodded, his hands falling on your hips, which he used as leverage to turn you toward him, trapped between his body and the sink.

You sighed, desperately hoping that you wouldn’t have to have this conversation but knowing that you would.

It was embarrassing.

Part of you, the mature part, knew that this wasn’t that big of a deal but the other part couldn’t help but hate her. She wasn’t just some beautiful girl, Mystic Falls was full of those, but Katherine was a threat.

This was much more about how she was clearly trying to take Damon from you than actually just trying to be a friend to any of you.

She wasn’t that kind.

“Excuse me if I’m not thrilled to have your psychotic ex girlfriend prancing around in her underwear” you scoffed, not understanding what it really was that he was missing.

You were projecting, of course, but there was no real way around it. As insecure as Katherine made you, her being here was just as much of the problem. You didn’t want her injecting herself into your life.

It wasn’t her place, and the idea that he wanted you to somehow be okay with it was really messing with you.

“Cute”

From Damon, that was little more than a casual huff but he knew you better than to just believe that. It wasn’t like you to act like you did last night, not with him, even where she was concerned.

You were better than that.

You were better than her, that was why he didn’t think anything of her immature little games.

“Now the truth” he prompted, a soft smile on his face as he waited for you to tell him what was really eating at you. This had been dragging out for way too long, and he really just wanted to get it over with.

He wanted to help you feel better, and he would do anything he could to make that happen, you both knew that.

Damon would have gladly turned her inside out if it would make a difference, but first, you had to tell him what was bothering you. He was good, but he wasn’t that good. You had to give him something to go off of.

“She is what I should be, what you deserve” you muttered, the words barely leaving your lips as you thought about them. You didn’t want to admit it to him, almost as much as you didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

You didn't like that she got under your skin, because she knew that she could. The more you let her, the more she got what she wanted.

...and you hated that.

“I think I’d rather have you” Damon shrugged, not even hesitating in his response. Given the two of you, and the person that Katherine was, there was nothing in the world he would have rather had than you.

He definitely didn’t want her.

Katherine had turned her back on Damon a million and one times, and at the end of the day, she couldn’t have given a damn what happened to him but you weren’t like that. You had the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever known, in several lifetimes.

There was nothing he wouldn’t trade, if it meant that he got to keep you.

At the end of the day, you were his person and he knew a good thing when he had it.

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