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stormxpadme · 2 years

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Whumptober 2022 No. 7 - Shaking Hands

2003

"You need to take a breath, kid. You're not hitting anyone like that."

"Holes in your body say, we don't have time for a breath." But Marie had no choice but to listen to her mission leader and redraw back into the shadow of their tiny hideout before she was anywhere near the cave exit, because of course, Logan was right. Trembling like this, there was no way she could take out enemies in different directions fast enough to not eat a bullet or two herself. And then both of them would have been fucked.

Marie couldn't even put it on Logan's and her unbelievably smart idea of tracking down another possibly Weapon X hideout in the middle of the Swiss Alps alone without even telling anyone where they went, in the middle of fucking winter no less, that she could barely pull her guns from the holsters on her thighs, with how unsteady her movements were. It wasn't just her reluctance about these kinds of weapons plaguing her either, especially not on a day when all of a sudden, neither Logan's nor her own powers were doing them any good and she grudgingly had to agree that the regular training with more conventional means that you needed so rarely on a team of super-powered heroes, hadn't been a part of her training for the X-Men half as unnecessary as originally thought. If there was any chance to get the two of them out of here and get help for her unexpectedly indisposed leader and best friend, it was the bullets in those two magazines. That was what was scaring her. For years now, she'd wished for more responsibility in this team, for getting the chance to prove she could pull her weight like anyone else on it, and now that it was suddenly up to her to save not only her own ass from becoming a lab rat for those very same bastards who had already made Logan's life a living hell all these years passed … Suddenly, she wished she'd never got up in the morning. She couldn't fuck this up. She couldn't … But keeping on imagining like a broken record in her head what would happen, to both of them, if she failed to stop their enemies before they could reach their improvised shelter here, certainly didn't do her nerves any good. "Your hands ever shake? If you say from adrenaline now, I'll shoot you, and something that hurts and will not regrow too quickly." With an unhappy sigh, her movements increasingly agitated, she knelt down next to her mission leader again to pull those damn bandages around his arms and chest tighter, swallowing thickly when she saw the uneven rocky ground under his curled-up body wet and dark red in the bad afternoon lighting falling in through the entrance.

Last time she'd seen Logan in such a bad condition had been right before the whole universe had almost gone down the drain. And this time, she couldn't hope for his healing factor to kick in any second and him being back on his feet within a couple of minutes. Not as long as these strange kinds of dangerous bullets their enemies had got him with upon their arrival that for some reason stopped his powers cold, were in his flesh and guts. "I still think I should try to dig them out."

"Not a good idea, kid." Logan shoved her hand back with an alarmingly weak movement when she fumbled with the knot around one of the tourniquets. "Even if you can reach them all with that butter knife of yours that you carry there? Won't do us any good. It's Carbonadium."

"How do you know?" Marie wrapped her arms tightly around her own body, shuddering both from the growing coldness of immobility and the memory of what she'd read about that very special substance in certain U.G.E.R. files that was able to damage even a feral's healing factor so badly. But none of them had ever come in contact with it before, luckily.

Logan could still come up with that cynical half-grin of his, in spite of writhing from a new torturous cramp every now and then and most of his chopped breaths ending in growls. "Because I can't remember ever being in so much pain. Some of those bullets splintered. There's no way you can get all this shit out before I bleed out, kid. You're on your own this time. Take these motherfuckers out while there's still time. From everything delightful Wade keeps telling me about our time with these people, they'll love to get their hands on you, and that ain't gonna be pretty. Would love to spare you that."

"Why did you bring me here then?" It wasn't a reproach, at least not aimed at him, mostly at herself. Apparently, she wasn't half as ready for this life and this work as she'd thought if she already lost her nerve at the first sight of a hopeless situation she had to face on her own.

Logan shrugged, but that hurt in a shoulder so shattered, the mere sight of it made Marie's stomach turn. He winced, his skin wet with sweat, red with fever wherever the tears in his uniform revealed it. At that rate, he wouldn't be lasting long. "You wanted to come." And Logan, from the day they'd met, had always been one of the few people in her life who granted her the freedom of making her own decisions.

Marie was long a part of the team, so there was no more reason for him to babysit her, besides, the two liked each other just fine, and going alone on one of his Weapon X hunts would have even been more disastrous. It had been a logical choice, and giving up at the first sight of difficulty was never one. "Oh, fuck this. Fine, I'm going. Here, take that." She put said dagger down next to her friend's body, in easy reach. Remy's gift for her on the day of her long overdue official welcoming ceremony on that very team. "If you hear that I didn’t make it, try cutting those fucking things out yourself. I don't want you back on their table either, you know."

"They're not here yet. Wait. Sit. You're still shaking. Now." Logan still had enough energy left for harsh orders, especially when Marie was only one eye-roll away from an objection. "Not like that. Legs crossed. Hands on your knees, palm up. Close your eyes."

"You're not seriously trying to calm me down with yoga, Logan." For a moment, she didn't know if she should laugh or cry. She had a quip on her tongue about the not-exactly-polite answers she'd given Jean whenever Jean had tried to interest her into that whole esoteric mental control crap back then, but then Marie remembered Jean was dead and had left Logan alone in this damn life and school to deal with rookie asses like Marie's, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe from that well-known feeling like a punch of a brutal fist right into her own guts.

If Logan could guess what she was thinking, he didn't let it distract him, because of course, he wouldn't even get distracted bleeding his damn life out on the top of some lonely glacier with the most incompetent team partner possible by his side. But for once, he sounded unusually sincere for his usual sardonic self. "Not Yoga. Meditation. Usually helps me. Instinct control and all. Or what do you think it is I'm doing at ass o'clock in the morning in the woods every day? I'm not that much of an exhibitionist."

"You're not putting pictures in my head that are helping." Marie grimaced but finally closed her eyes when Logan motioned her to again because they were running out of time, and if there was even a slightest chance, she could get that fluttering of threatening panic inside of her under control before that battle was calling, it was her duty, taking it.

"I'm not putting anything." There was a worryingly drag starting to sound through Logan's words. The effects of that damn bullets were growing worse. They better both hoped that the emergency signal they'd sent right after escaping to this cave had made its way through the shitty reception in this area and that help would be here soon. "That's your job right now. What I want you to do now is remember something that pisses you off. One specific image, something you usually suppress. Recall it in every detail, focus only on that. Then tell me what you see."

Though Marie wasn't entirely sure how such an uncontrolled, dangerous notion that usually left her only blind with the heat inside her soul and her cells, should help not act like a goddamn beginner anymore, Logan was one of the few people in her life she trusted unconditionally. And at this point, they didn't have much to lose. She thought it would be Phoenix, coming to her mind first, a city in flames, ten thousands deaths, Logan being brought home from another trip to Alkali Lake with his arms – robbed of their Adamantium protection by Magneto not too long before that day – a ruin of shattered flesh and bones. Or the Scapels-moon, all those vicious words of that alien bitch, all the pain, on the in- and outside that her teammates had gone through … It turned out, to her surprise, violence, and loss wasn't the thing enraging her most.

She found she could still see that embarrassed, cowardly look on her ex-boyfriend's face in every detail when he'd told the X-Men he would leave right after Alkali Lake. Would leave her. Because he'd been lying, because he was weak, because he had told Marie she wouldn't be too much for him, had given her hope for months only to fuck off to someone in whose pants he could have got so much easier then. "Bobby. I see Bobby." The ice in her voice was an easy match to those deadly surroundings of clear blue and white out there. When she opened her eyes again and looked at her hands where they had turned into hard fists, she couldn't see the slightest tremor anymore.

"Good." Though she could hear that her mission leader was fighting to keep his own eyes open at this point, there was a tone of deep pride in his deep voice that Marie would have shot a thousand, not just three assholes in the head for. "Now you take all that you feel right now and load those Glocks with it. Get your ass out there and give 'em hell, kid. And try not to take a bullet yourself. I'm really not in a good condition right now for you to drain me empty."

"Deal. No dying on me here either while I'm gone, okay?" With a small grin, she bent down to press a brief kiss to his hair, tasting, and smelling copper and cigars.

There were no promises on either side because neither of them liked false hopes, but he was still smiling when he watched her leave.

By the time Marie came back, with two shallow grazes on her arm and hip but not a milligram of metal in her flesh, Logan was still awake and even lucid enough to mock her about wasting almost both magazines before finally making the headshots. In the distance, they could hear the relieving, well-known hum of the Blackbird's engine.

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@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

#no.7 #Shaking Hands #x men #fic #everything after x2 didn't happen sue me #x men original timeline movies #stormys fanfics #marie d'ancanto #long post #whumptober2022 #whumptober 2022

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aflamethatneverdies · 2 years

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Because of Dracula Daily, apparently I'm rereading Dracula again, whoo! I find Harker's earlier recollections of his travels funny but also extremely Victorian British. This time, I read an excellent article, Dracula’s Kitchen: A Glossary of Transylvanian Cuisine, Language, and Ethnography by Cristina Artenie, quoting the relevant bit from this article below:

At Bistritz, on May 3rd, Jonathan Harker is having breakfast at Hotel Royale in Klausenburg, central Transylvania.

“I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour which they said was ‘mamaliga’ and eggplant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call ‘impletata.’”

Harker notes that he had “paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour,” which is indicative of the fact that he ate in a Romanian kitchen. Mămăligă is indeed corn mush, served as a side dish that is often a stand-in for bread. While Hungarians in Transylvania have adopted the corn mush for their ordinary meals, they would not have served it in a restaurant. For this reason, it is hard to believe that Harker was, indeed, served chicken paprikash with mămăligă at all, as this mix is a traditional Romanian peasant mix, and the hotels in Klausenburg (at the time the unofficial capital of Transylvania, heavily populated by Hungarians and Saxons) were not managed by and did not employ Romanians.

The hierarchy of the province recognized the Saxons, the Hungarians, and the Szeklers as the only three governing nations, while the Romanians were relegated to the margins of society. If Harker dined, indeed, in Klausenburg, he must have had paprikahendl with potatoes as a side dish, or with dumplings. It is more likely that he encountered Romanians and Romanian cuisine in Bistritz, a much smaller town, a frontier town with an overwhelmingly Romanian population (all of the statistics give 68% and more Romanians in Bistritz and the surrounding area, some Saxons, some Hungarians, and no Slovaks).

If the “paprikahendl” with “mamaliga” is problematic as it raises doubts about Harker’s recollections of his trip, the famous stuffed eggplant is a true challenge and highlights Harker’s inability with languages. Impletata is in fact a mix of two, or even three Romanian words (none of which means eggplant): împletită, which is a type of braided bread; umplută, an adjective that means stuffed; and împănată, another adjective that means half-stuffed, or feathered, meaning that the inside of the “eggplant” (to keep with Harker’s menu) is not scooped out, but that the “eggplant” is sliced on the surface and other vegetables are inserted halfway. In fact, there are lots of recipes of vegetables and meats that can either be umplută or împănată, while only the bread is împletită.

Without mentioning the fact that impletata is not a word in the Romanian lexicon, Klinger notes that “[t]he simplest version of impletata is a scooped-out eggplant with the pulped eggplant, ground meat, breadcrumbs, and butter, and baked. Dozens of recipes are widely available in English, under ‘stuffed eggplant.’” Similarly, Leatherdale observes: “‘Mamaliga’ and ‘impletata’ come from Johnson (p. 120): ‘Egg plant stuffed with chopped meat is National Dish and called ‘Ua Impletata.’” Both these descriptions refer to stuffed eggplant, which in Romanian would be vânătă umplută. The “Ua” in Johnson’s text, reproduced by Leatherdale, could be an attempt to write down the Transylvanian pronunciation of “o,” which is the Romanian feminine indefinite article, i.e., “a”, as in “a[n] impletata.” It is even possible that Johnson confused “o” with “una,” the Romanian feminine cardinal numeral, i.e., “one.”

And while food could seem a minor entry, it shows in nuce that Harker’s experience is at best the sum of confusions of tastes, languages, and of peoples and not an accurate portrayal of Transylvania. In an anti-colonial reading, however, it could easily be regarded as a colonial gesture to name, assign meaning, and redraw the map of a newly discovered territory.

#I find Harker naive and love to make fun of him being SO British #but as far as favourite characters go my heart will forever be with Mina #long post #queue

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onedivinemisfit · 3 years

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2021 Creator Self-Love Extravaganza!

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in 2021. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love! <3

Tagged by @bubblesthemonsterartist

Weirdly enough I am less reflected over this year than I was the one previous. In 2020, I had goals. In 2021, I just DRUMMED ON as long as my inspiration would let me! I indulged, I think, for the most part. 😂 However, looking back, I daresay I am proud. I have experimented more than I realized, and my pieces look rather good for it~

Year total: 184 artworks, 1 gif

1. Obiyuki Almost Kiss This would be one of many artworks I would scream into Joanna’s dms about; one of those THIS HAS TO BE GOOD OKAY-type artwork. The Concubine!AU means a lot to me, and the fic she and Jen wrote even moreso. This artwork was the first time where I applied 3D models during the sketching stage, and a perspective grid for… well, that’s rather self-explanatory yes?

2. “When doth mine husband return to me?” The first in what would be a series of “Annie says she’s gonna sketch, then 30 hours later has to admit she lied”. LOL. One of many redraws this year, I tested new ways of both coloring and shading with this one - not to mention the lineless background that I was mighty proud of, for being entirely made up on the spot. I feel like this artwork marked the spot where I got more into harmonizing colors, while also playing with stronger contrasts.

3. Miss me when the ships sail West Omigosh this one. I made a couple comics this year and this is my fave. Again, lots of focus on vibrant colors - I find my style benefits from sacrificing some realism in favor of impressionistic, striking scenery. Comics are also challenging, bc you know that in order to tell the story well, you have to choose the right panels, and I have never been good at minimalism. This was also my first venture into chromatic aberration! Which has quickly become a favorite!

4. Now and then, forever the same While this artwork isn’t really impressive in its own right - it was a quick sketch, where color setting and atmosphere was the most important, to instantly tell a story. But. BUT. I made a gif! For the first time in ten whole years, I went back to try and animate something. It was a lot of work, ngl, but it really paid off in the end, wow.

5. Wheel of Fortune Ngl, that whole week went by in a flurry. I made seven pieces from scratch in exactly 7x24 days. THAT is a record in its own right. This one was perhaps my favorite of the lot, for it came to me so naturally. And it felt like I applied all the news tricks I’d learned this year into a single piece, and best of all, I got to try one of my favorite palettes!

BONUS: Ladies of the Witcher AU Just because I can, and because I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t! These aren’t even about quality or detailwork, but the fact that I still remain so proud of these designs. Eleven actually badass-looking girls and women, none who can be mistaken for one another, and whose energy is entirely her own.

If I can preserve even half of the subconscious energy I’ve channeled towards art this year, for next year, I will be overjoyed! Here’s to hoping~

Tagging: hmmmm, my darling @jaqdaw-art, @nokaru, @qob-vrisk and @ccprovolomies if any of you feel ever so inclined 😘

#tag meme #2021 wrap-up #myart #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #ans #obiyuki #i am proud and happy and also rather confused #185 works??#where?? how?? did i have the time for all this #i’m not conscious enough half the time to realize ahahaha

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debbiechanclub · 3 years

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Know You Better Now (*new* BTOOT sequel), Part 1

The title is the same, but I assure you the content is all shiny and new! The revamped BTOOT sequel is here!

Thank you to everyone for your patience on this. I just lost interest/direction for the original sequel after Ethan all but disappeared off Dynamite, but I'm honestly kind of glad I did because I like this new version so. Much. More. And we have Kenny's facial hair to thank for it.

So enough talking - enjoy! And please let me know what you think!

Know You Better Now

Synopsis: Nearly nine months have passed since Alex's freak shoulder injury, and she's still not cleared for action. But while Kenny has been a source of strength for her throughout her recovery, all her other relationships are in shambles - and she's finding it harder and harder to reconcile the Kenny she knows behind closed doors with his persona as the "Belt Collector."

Part: 1/?

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x TBD 👀

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Find more of my fics here.

Tag squad: @galacticstat @hotyeehawman @hdbngsprnva @heelchampbucks @kingswitchblade @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @librathepheonix13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-babymox-exe @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @brokenglassslippers @rocca09 @meteora-fc @kawaiikels @adriii-omega @thatgirlforever5 @sugar-melts-mo-fo

May 30, 2021 AEW Double or Nothing

Surgery with six to twelve months’ recovery time. That was the prognosis Alex had received when she’d dislocated her shoulder in September. Now, nearly nine months later, everything had changed.

“Well, there’s good news and there’s not-as-good news,” Doc Sampson started. He’d just completed yet another check-up exam on her shoulder, and Alex could tell he was trying to keep up morale. But she already knew what he was going say. “The good news is you’ve gotten the full range of mobility back. The bad news is the strength isn’t quite there yet.”

She scoffed lightly to herself. It was exactly as she suspected. “So it’s no news, in other words,” she quipped.

“At least it’s not bad news?” Kenny hopefully offered.

Doc smiled sympathetically. “Just keep at it. Resistance bands, weights; you know the drill.”

Alex’s eyebrows arched. “Yeah, I do,” she returned. It seemed like weight training and physical therapy was all she did anymore.

“Just a few more weeks,” Doc said; but in medical-speak, time was relative. Alex knew all too well that weeks could easily mean months. “Good luck tonight, Kenny,” he added, and he went out the door.

Alex’s head fell back and she groaned in frustration. Kenny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. “It won’t be much longer,” he assured with a kiss on the side of her head.

“It’s been almost nine months,” she muttered.

“I know. But you don’t want to rush your recovery, especially for something like a shoulder injury.”

She frowned. “At this rate Anna will be back from her shoulder injury before I am.”

“What?” Kenny laughed and hugged her tighter. “No, she won’t. I give it maybe another month and you’ll be back better than you were before. Which reminds me, you should probably have some new gear made. I bet your old stuff is too big on you now.”

The sound of her laugh was muffled by his shoulder. “Because you’ve been kicking my ass every week for the last six months,” she said. If there was a silver lining to her injury, it was that she’d gotten into the best shape of her life what with all the training she’d been doing—and it was all thanks to Kenny. Truth be told, Alex didn’t know what she would have done without him over the last nine months. He’d moved her into his house so she wouldn’t have to struggle through the weeks after surgery alone; he’d set her up with his doctors; he’d driven her to physical therapy appointments and trained with her every single week. He’d been there for her in ways she couldn’t even express, and she’d fallen even more in love with him for it.

It made it that much more difficult for her to admit that the Kenny she knew in private was a far cry from the one who called himself the “Belt Collector.”

“I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t think you could handle it,” he returned with a peck on her lips. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna recognize you out there tonight.”

Alex momentarily tensed in his arms, but she didn’t relax quick enough. Kenny felt it—and he knew exactly what it was about.

“You’re not having second thoughts about it, are you?”

She looked up at him. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” she admitted.

Kenny’s face fell. “Alex… we’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” she breathed. She stepped back from him, suddenly anxious. They had talked about it, at length. It was a big statement for her to accompany him for his match tonight, because she hadn’t been seen since her injury. In fact, she’d all but gone off-grid. She hadn’t been on television; she’d barely posted on social media; she hadn’t responded to any questions for comment about her recovery or her thoughts on Kenny’s pursuits. She’d just wanted to fly under the radar until she was back in that ring for good.

But then, two-and-a-half weeks ago, the match between PAC and Orange Cassidy for a shot at Kenny’s AEW World Championship had gone to a no contest. As a result, it was decided that Kenny would defend the title in a triple threat match against them both at Double or Nothing—tonight. And as soon as the match was booked, Alex knew—she knew—that Kenny would find a way to pull her into it.

But she didn’t know if she could—or should—go out there with him. Not with the way things currently were between her and the people she’d thought were her best friends.

Kenny reached out and took her hands in his, and she looked back up at him from the floor. His blue eyes were concerned. But she could tell he was frustrated.

“I want you out there with me, baby. And yeah… I’d be lying if I said Orange wasn’t part of the reason why.”

She frowned. “Kenny—”

“Just hear me out,” he gently cut her off, and she pursed her lips. But she let him continue. “Best Friends are actually supposed to be your best friends, right? But when was the last time any of them checked in on you? I know Chuck did for a while, but Trent? He’s been a complete asshole to you.”

Alex fidgeted, her chest tightening. His words were like salt in a wound—but he wasn’t wrong. At first, Chuck had checked in on her fairly regularly… but his texts and FaceTime calls had tapered off after the first couple months. At the time, she’d just chalked it up to circumstance. She was out of sight and out of mind, and he and Orange had been put through more than their fair share of bullshit by Miro, Kip, and Penelope after Trent had torn his pec muscle in December. She couldn’t really blame him for going quiet.

But then, two months ago, Trent had returned with Kris in tow—and Alex hadn’t been able to chalk it up to circumstance any longer. And when Kris seemingly became an official member of Best Friends, she couldn’t ignore the twinge of jealousy in her gut, either. She felt forgotten. Replaced in person just as much as she had been on the Best Friends t-shirt. And the thing of it was, none of them seemed to even miss her.

Least of all Trent.

Kenny squeezed her hands, redrawing her attention. “Look… I’m not trying to turn you against them. But I can see how hurt you are by how they’ve acted over the last couple months, and it kills me. And yeah, it pisses me off, too. So… why not come out there with me tonight, looking absolutely fucking fantastic, and show Best Friends just how good you’re doing without them?”

Alex’s brow furrowed. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, there was a petty part of her that wanted to do exactly that. But the softer side of her just wanted her friends back.

“I get what you’re saying, I just... I feel like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“I know you do,” he sympathetically returned. “But I’m not asking you to go out there and try to keep Orange from winning. I just want you in my corner. And maybe I want to show you off a little bit, too.”

He grinned and pulled her closer, and Alex couldn’t help the coy smile that pulled at her lips. Through all their ups and downs, Kenny had never failed to make her feel special; wanted. She didn’t take that for granted—especially not now.

“I did bring a really cute outfit to wear,” she said, sliding her hands up his arms. “It would be a shame if it went to waste.”

His smile widened. “Well then you gotta wear it.”

Alex bit her lip in thought. But she didn’t think for long. She put her hands on either side of his face and gave him a tender kiss. “You know I love you, right?”

Kenny gripped her waist. “Of course, I do. I love you, too,” he returned, and he kissed her again. “Come on, you should go get ready,” he said with a pat on her backside. And as they left the exam room, Alex knew that accompanying Kenny for his match was the right decision.

It was the potential consequences that worried her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Holy shit, I almost didn’t recognize you!”

That was what Stella had proclaimed when Alex walked into hair and makeup. It was followed by a chorus of more of the same, a parade of hugs from everyone in the room—and dozens of questions.

“How are you? You look incredible!”

“Is your shoulder cleared?”

“So, are you officially living with Kenny now?”

“I’ve been dying to know how you feel about everything going on with him.”

And Alex had done her best to field each one of them.

“I’m doing pretty well, and thanks. It seems like I’ve been filling all my free time with working out.”

“No… not yet. But hopefully in the next few weeks.”

“I mean, not officially. I still have my house in Virginia—my cousin’s been renting it out. But I don’t know. It feels like I’ve officially moved in.”

“It is what it is. He’s just being Kenny Omega.”

Thankfully, no one pressed her on that last one.

Instead, Stella was all too happy to dish on all the latest and juiciest backstage news and gossip. Anna Jay and Jungle Boy were an item. Cody had estranged himself from nearly everyone. Callie had left AEW and pro wrestling altogether—and moved in with Cash. Alex had already known about that one, but it was still strange to hear. Looking back, it was hard to believe her friendship with Callie and relationship with Cash had ever even happened at all. It felt like another life; another time.

“You’re all done, my dear,” Stella said. She handed her a mirror—and Alex was taken aback by her own reflection. Long, sleek dark brown hair; glowing fair skin; pouty nude lips; a sexy reverse cat eye that made her hazel eyes pop. She sat up a little straighter. For perhaps the first time in months, she felt herself again.

She thanked Stella and hopped out of the chair, a pep in her step as she went out the door—

“Alex?!”

She halted in her tracks. Even though she hadn’t heard it in forever, she’d recognize that voice anywhere—Kris. She held her breath and turned around; but relaxed in relief. It was just her and Orange. At least she wouldn’t have to face them all at once.

“Holy shit!” She hurried over and wrapped her in a tight hug before she could even blink. Alex was stiff and awkward as she returned it. She hadn’t expected that reaction.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’d be here tonight?” Kris asked as she stepped back from her. Alex hesitated to answer.

“Um, I thought about it. But given why I’m here…”

She trailed off and looked awkwardly at Jim. He shrugged. “It’s business,” he returned. “So I guess this means you’ll be in Kenny’s corner tonight?”

Alex crossed an arm over herself and nervously fidgeted with the skin on her elbow. She nodded. Jim’s expression remained as indecipherable as ever.

“And you look hot as fuck,” Kris perceptively interjected. “Seriously, I think I might be questioning my sexuality.”

Alex breathed a laugh—

“You should come say hi to Chuck and Trent! Trent’s gonna shit himself.”

Just like that, her smile vanished. Her lips parted in silent question, uncertain if Kris was being serious. But she looked too genuinely excited not to be.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex said. “I mean, considering the last time I talked to Trent…”

She trailed off and looked down at her shoes. There had been things said by both her and Trent in the heat of the moment that had made an already uncomfortable situation worse. They hadn’t spoken in more than five months, since right before he’d gotten injured. She didn’t think now was the time to start.

“Trent has his head up his ass,” Jim said, and Alex flicked her eyes back up at him, surprised. “You know how he is with this stuff. You’ll probably have to be the bigger person.”

Alex sighed. He was probably right. But again—tonight wasn’t the night. “Now’s just not the time,” she remorsefully returned. “But I’ll see you out there. Good luck—really.”

And before either of them could say anything else, she turned and continued down the hall, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Maybe you shouldn’t come out there… you’re gonna distract me walking around like this.”

Alex looked at Kenny through the mirror as he sidled up behind her. He reached up and brushed her hair back from her neck, and she tilted her head so he could press his lips against her skin.

“It's too late,” she returned. “I’ve already gone through all the trouble of getting ready.”

Kenny hummed. “Well, I can take it all off for you, if you want.”

He nipped her neck, and she smirked and squirmed. Her mood had completely turned around from earlier in the night; it was amazing what a little hair and makeup and the right outfit could do. The white bustier-style crop top she wore wasn’t her usual style, but it showed off the hard work she’d put in at the gym—and it didn’t hurt that it made her boobs look amazing. And even though she’d made the outfit more “her” with a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans and her white low-top Chucks, Kenny was right—they probably wouldn’t recognize her out there.

But truth be told, she’d never felt more confident.

“You can later,” she smirked, and she felt a low growl rumble in his bare chest.

“Get a room!”

Alex rolled her eyes. Matt’s voice was an unwelcome interruption from across the locker room. She’d almost forgotten that he and Nick were there.

Kenny shot a glare over his shoulder. “Why are you looking?”

Matt opened his mouth, but two quick knocks on the door cut him off before he could make a smart-ass retort, and then Don Callis walked in.

“We’re up, Ken.”

Kenny smirked at Alex. “Let’s go give the people what they really want.”

He picked up his AEW World Championship, and she helped him secure it around his waist, followed by the Impact World Championship, which he strapped across his chest. Then, he picked up the AAA Mega Championship and old TNA World Heavyweight Championship and held them in each of his hands. And Alex had to admit—it was an impressive sight, Kenny draped in championship gold. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t turn her on.

“How do I look?” he asked her.

She bit her lip. “Good. Really good.”

He grinned, cocky.

They started for the door; but before Alex could follow Don and Kenny out, Matt stopped her. “Alex.” He pushed himself up from his chair and cast Nick a glance. He stood too. She rolled her eyes. They weren’t subtle at all.

Matt gave her a discerning look. “You are one-hundred percent in Kenny’s corner… right?”

Her brow lowered dangerously. Was he really questioning her loyalty now? “Are you serious?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Well… I know Orange is one of your best friends—”

“Or he was,” Nick interjected.

“—and I just want to make sure that there aren’t any conflicts of interest.”

He smirked, obnoxiously smacking his gum between his teeth. Alex bit down on her jaw. She’d thought that maybe—maybe—Callie’s departure and her relationship with Kenny would have led her and Matt to at least be friendly with each other. But she’d thought wrong.

She gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Matt. The only conflict going on here is the one between what you think that outfit looks like and what it actually looks like.”

He abruptly stopped chewing his gum. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Alex was already out the door. She caught up with Kenny and fell in step beside him. “Forget something?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. Just got held up.”

They arrived at Gorilla, and Don went on and on talking Kenny up, boosting his confidence, assuring that neither Orange nor PAC stood a chance; but Alex tuned him out, nervously looking around. Waiting. And then she saw them: Orange, Chuck, Kris, and Trent.

Her heart jumped into her throat when her eyes met Chuck’s. He flashed her a smile; but it wasn’t as wide or as bright as she was used to.

“Hey. It’s good to see you,” he said, and he gave her arm a squeeze as he passed. She said nothing in response—just a tight grin of acknowledgement. Entirely impersonal compared to how they used to greet each other.

It’s the circumstances, she tried to tell herself.

Orange and Kris greeted her in much the same way, with awkward half-smiles as they walked by; Kris seemed apologetic, for some reason. And then, Trent reached her. His expression was cold, his eyes hard, and then he muttered underneath his breath, just loud enough for her to hear, “Thanks for telling us you’d be here.”

He kept walking, not waiting for her to even process what he’d said, and Alex’s heart sunk petrified into the pit of her stomach.

This was how things were now. She felt stupid for hoping for different.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex had known it would be difficult to be ringside for this match. But, sixteen minutes into it, she hadn’t realized it would be this difficult.

PAC laid on his back, staring up at the lights courtesy of a bridging deadlift suplex into a pin attempt from Kenny. So, with him taken care of for the moment, Kenny turned his attention to Orange. He pulled his right kneepad down, and Alex had to stop herself from watching through her fingers as he kneed Orange hard in the face, once, and then again. She could feel the eyes of the fans at ringside watching her with keen interest, trying to gauge her reactions. They’d been shocked to see her come out with Kenny, and now her presence provided them with an extra layer of entertainment. At least Chuck, Trent, and Kris weren’t at ringside, too; they’d walked Orange out and promptly disappeared backstage. Alex didn’t know what she would have done if they’d stayed.

Kenny backed toward the ropes, aiming to deliver a third and final V-Trigger. But before he could, Orange held up his hands as if to tell him “stop.” And then he plunged them into his pant pockets and fell facedown onto the mat.

Kenny laughed, but he couldn’t care less. He walked over and started to pick Orange up; but then a revived PAC grabbed him and hit him with a hard forearm. They traded blows and kicks in the middle of the ring until Orange suddenly intervened and hit Kenny with a Michinoku Driver. However, Kenny rolled away and PAC hit Orange with a brainbuster. He covered him, but Orange thankfully kicked out at two.

Alex put her hand on Kenny’s shoulder as he laid underneath the ropes, halfway out of the ring. “Are you alright?”

But he didn’t answer her question. Instead, he said, “Go get one of my belts.”

She looked back at him in confusion. “What?”

“Go get one of my belts in case.”

Alex blinked and shook her head. She could not believe what he was asking her to do. “What? No, Kenny, I’m not doing that. You don’t need—”

But he rolled away, back underneath the ropes into the ring. PAC and Orange were in a precarious position on the top turnbuckle closest to them. It looked like PAC was trying to execute a superplex—but Kenny jumped up and shoved PAC off-balance, causing Orange to tumble from his grip and bounce off the ring apron to the floor. Alex started to check on him—but then she remembered she wasn’t out there for him and stopped short. She ran her hands over her hair, helpless. Inwardly hoping that he was alright.

Meanwhile, PAC had reversed Kenny’s attempt at a One-Winged Angel from the top turnbuckle and sent him sailing across the ring via a sunset flip powerbomb. They stood atop the opposite turnbuckle now, and Alex’s eyes widened in horror when PAC delivered an avalanche Falcon Arrow. But then, Orange suddenly scrambled back into the ring, tossed PAC out, and hooked Kenny’s leg. Every single person packed into Daily’s Place jumped from their seats as Bryce Remsburg slid to the mat and started to count. Kenny barely kicked out before three. Alex leaned her elbows on the ring apron, her head in her hands. That had been way too close.

All around her the fans started chanting, “That was three!” booming in her ears, and she bit down on her jaw. Kenny rolled out of the ring and stumbled over to her. For some reason, she already knew what for.

“Alex, go get one of my belts,” he said again. It was an order, not a question. But she stood her ground.

“No! I’m not helping you win like that!”

He let out a frustrated huff. “Baby, now’s not the time to argue about this. Just go get—”

She cut him off with a gasp as PAC came flying over the top rope headed straight for them. Kenny shoved her out of the way at the last second, taking all the impact himself and getting knocked to the floor. PAC, meanwhile, sprung back up and to the top turnbuckle. He slowly stood—and when Alex saw him jump into the air and perform the Black Arrow, she knew she had just seconds to act. She jumped over Kenny and rounded the turnbuckle as PAC hooked Orange’s leg. And just before Bryce could count three, she grabbed Orange’s boot and put it on the bottom rope.

Bryce stopped the count and pointed at Orange’s foot, none the wiser to what had happened. The fans, on the other hand, showered Alex with thunderous boos. Realizing what she’d done, PAC turned and shot her a glower that seemed almost inhuman. But she just pursed her lips and raised her chin in defiance.

Kenny pulled himself up by the ropes and ducked back into the ring, grinning like the cat that caught the canary, and the match went on, back and forth between him and PAC—until Orange scored another near-fall after he hit Kenny with a frantic Beach Break. PAC then tried for a Liger Bomb on Orange, but he fought out of it and landed a hard Orange Punch across his jaw, dropping him to the mat. Then he gave one to Kenny, and the crowd came unglued.

Orange fed off their energy, pumping himself up as PAC staggered to his feet. He hit another Orange Punch and went for the pin. Time seemed to stop as Alex watched, her heart in her throat and her hands on her head. She didn’t want Kenny to lose at all, let alone like this. But just as Bryce started the count, Don appeared out of nowhere and pulled him from the ring by his ankles.

Alex stood frozen to her spot as Bryce and Don yelled at each other, and she fully expected the former to expel the latter from ringside—but he didn’t. He simply got back in the ring, and the match continued. Don walked toward Alex, straightening his suit jacket. “Good work putting Orange’s foot on the ropes,” he said to her.

She didn’t say anything in return. She didn’t want a compliment from the likes of him.

Back in the ring, Kenny had been knocked to the floor once again—and PAC had the Brutalizer locked on Orange. When Kenny finally made it back through the ropes, he kicked PAC in the face once, twice. But he didn’t let go of his hold on Orange. So instead, Kenny made the desperate decision to hit Bryce with a hard double axe handle to the back.

The crowd booed, and Alex hid her face in her hands. “Come on, Ken…” she breathed. Not like this.

Meanwhile, Don took the initiative to do what Kenny had been asking Alex to do all along. He grabbed the Impact Championship from the timekeeper’s area and tossed it to Kenny in the ring. Kenny caught it, and then he turned and clocked PAC over the head. He dropped like dead weight to the mat, and Kenny tossed the belt aside, the fans still booing all the while.

But apparently, one belt wasn’t enough.

Don tossed in the Triple A Mega Championship next, and as PAC staggered to his feet, Kenny hit him again. Then he threw in the TNA World Heavyweight Championship. Alex had to bite her lip to keep from shouting at Kenny to stop. She looked away just before he hit PAC a third time.

Finally, Don handed Kenny the AEW World Championship. He took it and held it high above his head, gloating, reveling in the crowd’s hatred. Somehow, PAC was still moving, trying to stay in the match. But just as he climbed to his feet for a third time, Kenny hit him again and knocked him down for good.

Kenny held the championship up again, parading around the ring. He didn’t notice Orange darting toward him until it was too late. He laid him out with another Orange Punch across the jaw.

Orange crawled toward Kenny, obviously going for the pin; but Bryce was still down from Kenny’s earlier attack. However, it didn’t matter. As soon as he draped himself across Kenny’s chest, Aubrey ran down to the ring. Alex grabbed her own throat as she counted.

One.

Two—

But unexpectedly, Kenny reversed the pin and rolled Orange’s shoulders to the mat in a crucifix. Aubrey counted again.

One.

Two.

Three.

That was it. The bell rung, and Kenny’s music started. Alex let out a breath. He’d won by the skin of his fucking teeth.

She and Don both rushed to Kenny’s side as Justin Roberts officially announced him the winner. He clutched his jaw, and somehow his left hand had been sliced open. “What happened?” she asked, looking over the blood on his fingers with concern. But he wasn’t able to answer her before they were suddenly swarmed by both the Young Bucks and the Good Brothers. Matt and Nick practically pushed her aside as they congratulated Kenny, and Nick and Karl Anderson put an arm each over their shoulders and helped him up the steps to the entrance ramp. And as they all celebrated, reveling in Kenny’s stolen victory, Alex felt a sourness curdle at the back of her throat.

She was in love with Kenny. He’d come to mean the world to her over the last nine months. But she hadn’t signed up for this world.

#aew fanfiction #kenny omega fanfiction #the elite fanfiction #orange cassidy fanfiction #trent beretta fanfiction #chuck taylor fanfiction #kris statlander fanfiction

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youngloveisdead · 3 years

Text

some of the random marauders era headcanons from my notes app

note: i’m sick so if none of this makes sense and all of it is shit i’m sorry. i’m now gonna go take a nap and probably delete this when i wake up. bye.

mostly james, lily and remus on this list

- james is left handed

- lily is a total horror nerd

- remus was always high during his school years

- remus rolling joints for sirius but make it romantic

- dorcas rolling joints for marlene but make it romantic

- apparently the moral of the story is that rolling joints for your significant other is very romantic for gay, mentally ill, magical teenagers

- all of the marauders(+lily eventually) are extremely proficient in occulo repairo cause james broke his glasses so often(james’ glasses are pretty much just magic at this point)

- peter is really good at sneaking around, he’s the one who found like half of the secret passageways at hogwarts. without him the marauders would have been caught way more

- remus and dorcas get high together(only weed)

- lily definitely smoked, both cigs and weed, she’d get her weed from dorcas, she low-key didn’t trust the shit remus smoked

- lily and sirius would often smoke in the astronomy tower together when their home lives became too much. sometimes they’d talk and other times they’d just sit in each other’s company, cause while their situations may of been different they still felt camaraderie over their fucked up families

- remus curses more than the rest of them combined

- lily curses the most after remus

- lily has pretty dark humor

- lily’s hair is a dark, deep red that seems almost unnatural, it always made her stand out. it also became another thing that petunia called lily a freak for, so when lily met james and he remarked on her hair she thought he was making fun of her, when in reality he just thought it was really pretty and just really wanted to touch it

- remus has freckles.

- sirius likes to make constellations out of remus’ freckles. enough said.

- sirius has some flat moles scattered across his body, not a lot but still a good few

- remus loves to kiss sirius’ moles

- sirius is ticklish. like severely. not that he would EVER admit that

- james is very artistic. he’s the one that designed the marauders map. he will also doodle on everything, school work, skin(his own and his friends), jeans, shoes, books, walls, anything. it causes many issues. he often has to redo school work because of this. the amount of times he had to redraw the map because he absentmindedly started doodling on it is honestly ridiculous. when he and lily started dating she became his favorite canvas. lily loved it, but sometimes it became very inconveniencing

- lily annotates her books. a lot. and if she really loves a book she’ll do it so much that she has to get a new copy because the book becomes unreadable and starts to fall apart

- remus annotates his books too and him and lily will annotate books they read and exchange them with each other to annotate

- lily loves waffles.

- james eats a lot of spicy food. sirius absolutely can not handle spicy food. this caused a lot of problems, especially when sirius moved in with the potter’s. lily actually likes spicy food but can’t handle the same amount of heat as james.

- sirius could never fully shake the upperclass mannerisms that his parents ingrained into him and would sometimes comes off snobby, especially during first year. this caused a lot of issues between sirius and remus during first year(and sometimes for the rest of their lives, especially during arguments).

- mary wanted nothing to do with the war(tbh i don’t blame her)

- marlene was lily’s first kiss but lily wasn’t marlene’s.

- dorcas meadows was the baddest bitch to ever live. dorcas was an extremely good fighter and well versed in both light and dark magic and was willing to use that knowledge to her advantage.

- if it wasn’t for james the marauders probably wouldn’t have been friends. he was absolutely the glue that kept them together

- james was very charismatic, not in a suave way but he had a tendency to draw people to him.

- sirius is classically trained in the piano. he doesn’t play often but he’s actually very good

- lily is the one that introduces sirius to motorcycles and is the one to go with him to buy his. she also helped him charm it. they practically gave james a heart attack the first time they took it in the air

- james is very naturally gifted and talented when it came to magic but he still had to study for exams and assignments. he was very serious about it and had a very precise study regimen. it was one of the only times he’d actually snap at sirius(for interrupting him). sirius would often make himself scarce when james was studying and go hang out with someone else

- lily snuck into the restricted section more than the marauders ever did. nobody knew until the marauders finished the map. it was a whole fiasco, but in the end they both agreed to keep each others secrets(though that was more like a threat coming from lily).

- lily was often times very last minute when it came to studying and doing her assignments. she tends to get sidetracked with whatever side projects or extra curricular knowledge she seeks(which is often not school approved, or legal for that matter). she had a bad habit of waiting until the night before an assignment was do to do it and would stay up until the early morning to do it. the only people who knew that she did this was her dorm mates and the marauders. she would regularly sneak out and into the library at night/early morning cause of these reasons and the marauders and her ran into each other sneaking around during third year. also a random hufflepuff kid named dorian knew(dorian was a first year and lily was a fifth year when they ran into each other sneaking around)(dorian’s a sweetheart, the sweetest bean)(lily and dorian became besties after this and lily totally took him under her wing because i say so(someone write a fic)). the professors never knew.

- peter was often times unintentionally hilarious, he could always make someone crack up and he loved that

- lily is generally a very chill person, however some people just have a special talent in knowing what buttons to push *cough*james*cough*

- remus is the most sarcastic person you will ever meet

- remus came up with a good chunk of their pranks

- lily actually found the marauders pranks amusing and interesting, when they weren’t used to bully someone. unless that person was someone who was a shitty person, then she wouldn’t care but didn’t want anything to do with it. unless said shitty person went after someone she cared about, then she became very vindictive and the marauders learned early on to get out of her way. when the marauders went after someone she cared about(snape) or someone innocent she would become extremely furious, which would quickly lead to confrontation between them, james and lily mostly

- lily had a very sharp tongue and would often make very quick witted, cutting remarks

- lily knew a lot of hexes, jinxes and (not that many people knew this) curses. like she knew some pretty dark and dangerous stuff. don’t even get me started on some of the potions she knew.

- the james, sirius and remus were all very naturally strong and talented wizards and they would use their spell repertoires in very creative and unique ways, which made them formidable foes, however one of the reasons that peter was able to keep up with thin was because while he might not be as physically or magically strong and more average, he was a quick thinker and quick reacting, which helped him stay ahead of people who could overpower him

- james potter: the helicopter parent

#the marauders #marauders #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #the maraunders map #jily #wolfstar #james & peter & remus & sirius #remus loves sirius #sirius loves remus #dorian is the sweetest bean #anyone and anything that hurts him will have to face lily’s wrath

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

Not Your Hero. chapter 5.

Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three, Chapter four,

AN: Let The Games Begin.

Characters: Finnick Odair, Coriolanus Snow, Mags Flanagan

Pairings: Finnick x reader

Spoiler(s): None

Warning(s): Mentions of blood, death, murder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, psychological manipulation, intimidation, sexual harassment

Prompt/Inspiration: Cringe - Matt Maeson

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

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

By the time you made it back to the tribute center, you’d stopped crying and had instead gone numb. You’d taken your shoes off at some point. Your feet were cold. You sniffed, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand and remembered, too late, the make up you’d been wearing.

“Fuck,” you said, without any real emotion as you took in the black smudge-marks on your hand, “that’s annoying.”

You weren’t surprised to find Finnick in your living room when you opened the door to your suite. When your client had first started to pull you away, you’d panicked and searched for Finnick with your eyes, but you never found him. Now, some part of you was grateful for that.

He looked a mess. His blazer was flung haphazardly over one end of the couch, his bowtie was loose, the sleeves of his shirt were dirty and rolled up past his elbows and his auburn locks were sticking up in all directions, like he’d been carding his fingers through his hair. He was watching a recap of the tribute parade on television but, when the door clicked into place, he whipped around. His eyes met yours and, as soon as they did, as soon as you saw the care there, the fear and tenderness all swirling together in the eyes of someone you trusted so much, you broke.

You pressed a hand to your mouth, tears spilling over your cheeks in a rush as sobs threatened to tear themselves free from your throat. In a second Finnick had leapt over the back of the couch and was in front of you, his arms half outstretched, like he wasn’t sure whether or not he could-

You launched yourself into his arms, collapsing against his body and letting him engulf you in a firm embrace. He smelled like vanilla and bourbon, and something cool and wild, like the ocean and you clung to that like a life raft, letting it flood your senses and block out everything else. Finnick held you like you were something precious, letting you cry into his shoulder while he stroked your hair and whispered comforting words into your ear. It was so gentle, so loving and tender that it made you feel painfully fragile, like you might shatter into a million little pieces at any second. Part of you wanted to pull away and hide, to push Finnick out and never let anyone touch you ever again. The other part thought that, if Finnick ever stopped touching you, you might die.

“I’m okay,” you eventually sniffed, your voice thick with tears and muffled by Finnick’s shirt.

“No you’re not,” he replied, squeezing you tighter, “I know you’re not.”

“I am,” you insisted, pulling away slightly to look Finnick in the eye, “I mean, I’m not but, the worst is over now, right? It’s done, I don’t have to be afraid of it happening anymore because it’s already happened.”

Finnick looked concerned, like he was fighting the urge to argue, but eventually he nodded.

He reached out and brushed your hair out of your face, making you shiver, “Come on, you should get cleaned up.”

For a moment you panicked. The thought of being alone with your thoughts suddenly so overwhelming that your heart froze but, as Finnick gently took your hand and led you down the hall, you realised what he’d meant. Finnick Odair had no intention of leaving you on your own, he wanted to take care of you. Without so much as a word, he washed your face, combed out your hair and put your shoes back in your closet. He waited outside while you showered, scrubbing yourself clean more times than you needed to because you couldn’t escape the feeling that you’d missed a spot. When you were clean and wrapped in a bathrobe, he helped you pick some pyjamas, three sizes too big with long sleeves and long pants and, while you changed, picked up the dress you’d stepped out of and took it away, putting it somewhere where you’d never have to look at it again.

By the time he got back, you felt almost like yourself again, or more accurately, like someone who could be you, given time. You’d slipped into bed and were sitting up against the headboard, staring into space and trying to convince yourself that it was time to sleep. Finnick, still without speaking, clambered in on the other side and shifted so that his side was pressed against yours. You snuggled into him, resting your head on his shoulder and letting him wrap an arm around your waist. It was comforting and warm and safe with Finnick, the kind of safe you couldn’t remember feeling since the games and you thanked your lucky stars that you’d met him when you did.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Finnick asked.

You shook your head, “Not really. I think you can probably imagine what happened.”

“Thadius?”

“No, some banker’s son named Proculos. He said he liked my hair.” you explained.

Finnick nodded, “I’ve met him. He’s a prat.”

“He is a bit,” you agreed, “but at least he’s too stupid to be mean.”

Finnick chuckled, even though nothing about the situation was funny, and gave you a gentle squeeze as you lapsed into comfortable silence.

“Thank you, by the way,” you eventually said, “for being here.”

Finnick smiled to himself, “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

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

From there, life took on a strange kind of normalcy. Most of your time was spent coming up with strategies for your tributes or watching past games and taking notes. You hung out with the other victors in the sponsor rooms, made connections, charmed people, did interviews. You never talked about what happened with your clients and Finnick never asked you to, but he did watch you a little more intently than before, searching for any signs of distress. On his part, Finnick felt like he was being ripped in half. Every second spent worrying about you was a second he wasn’t spending on Annie and, every second he spent with Annie was a second not looking out for you.

How had this happened? How had Finnick Odair, king of the capitol, known bachelor and playboy, become so deeply entangled in the lives of the people around him?

“Hey, you,” you greeted, breathing heavily as you took a seat next to Finnick, “why the long face?”

You looked incredible, Finnick noticed with his usual pang of annoyance, with your hair pulled off your face and tight fitting training gear on. You’d taken Gloss up on his offer to train you in your free time, building up your strength and endurance with the fiery determination that Finnick had always admired in you so much. It was working too. In the few days it’d been happening, Finnick could already see the beginnings of real improvement. It made him absurdly proud.

“Annie.” He explained, “She’s not getting the buzz she needs from sponsors.”

“There’s still time,” you assured him, “and maybe when the training scores come out-”

Finnick cut you off, shaking his head sadly, “She won’t get higher than an eight.”

“An eight is good!”

“An eight is standard,” Finnick corrected, “at least for us it is.”

“I’d pay someone to give Adam an eight,” you sighed, “right now I’m expecting a five or six.”

Finnick cursed his own insensitivity, “Sorry, Y/N. No one really cares about the training score anyway, unless it’s super high or unreasonably low. They’re not really an indication of how well he’ll do.”

You shrugged, drinking deep from the water bottle you were holding, “I know,” you replied, “I only got a five on my year and look at me now.”

“Exactly,” Finnick smiled, “but for careers…”

“You’ve got to be better than good to stand out,” you commiserated.

“Yup.”

You opened your mouth to say something but, before you could, Gloss called you over. You shot Finnick one last sympathetic look and stood to leave.

“I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” you called.

Finnick nodded, pushing down his disappointment, “Yeah, of course.”

“Good,” you smiled.

And, just like that, you were gone, leaving Finnick with his thoughts. He knew he was moping, that there were surely better ways for him to be spending his time than sitting around feeling sorry for himself but, as he watched you and Gloss training in the distance, he couldn’t muster up the energy to do any of it. Without meaning to, he let his mind drift back to that first, horrible night when you’d broken down in his arms.

Never in his life had Finnick been so filled with rage. Not when he was reaped, not when his parents had died, never. That night, for the first time, Finnick had understood the desire to cause pain and fear in another human being. He hadn’t wanted to kill the person who’d touched you, he’d wanted to destroy them, to slowly cut away little pieces of them, one by one, until nothing was left but the raw, ugly, corrupted heart of them. He wanted to make them so afraid, wanted them to feel the pain they’d caused so acutely that they begged for death. Only then did he want to kill them.

It was a terrifying feeling, knowing that that monster lay inside of him somewhere, that it could come out at any time and do something terrible to the people he loved. How could a man be capable of such thoughts, such passionate hatred and such tender care? How could a man be both, without the two sides tearing one another apart?

Despite popular belief, Finnick wasn’t actually an idiot, he knew it was because of you. He knew he cared about you more than he should and his feelings were just a reflection of that but, nevertheless, it made him deeply uncomfortable. That’s why he’d decided to keep his distance a little, put some space between the two of you, redraw those lines separating friendship from more that had become so blurry. It was harder than he’d thought it would be. You were just so...you all the time, and he wanted to be around that every single day. But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. For both of your sakes, it would be better if he wasn’t. He had other obligations after all, other responsibilities. Annie needed him focussed.

He remembered the look on her face when she stepped on the train like it was yesterday, all wide eyes and abject terror.

“This is insane,” she muttered, “Fin, what’s going on? How is this happening?”

He shook his head, still reeling from the shock himself, and pulled her into a rough hug. His ears were ringing, his fingers were numb, everything around him felt like it was happening in slow motion. Annie? Why Annie? She’d never taken out tesserae, she wasn’t a star pupil at the academy... It didn’t make sense. Why had no one volunteered? Why had she ended up alone on that stage?

It’s because of you, the voice in his head whispered, it’s because of you. You did this, you doomed her. Because of course it had been rigged. There was no way that, in all of district four, Annie Cresta, known associate of Finnick Odair, could be picked randomly for the Hunger Games. It couldn’t happen. This had to be some sort of message from Snow.

Which meant, Finnick realised with growing horror and dread, that it was his fault. She was here, sentenced to die, because of him. Shame wasn’t a strong enough word for what he felt.

He pushed himself up and made his way back to the elevator, determined to get some work done before the event that evening. Finnick could hear your voice echoing against the walls and, for a second, he considered just staying for a little longer. He’d almost decided that he would stay when the elevator door closed behind him and Finnick was reminded, once again, that he was alone. With a sigh, he pressed the button for the fourth floor. He felt like he was making the right decision, but why did it have to be so hard?

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

When the big day came you felt woefully unprepared. Ever since the victory tour you’d spent every free second trying to make sense of this moment. The start of the games. The first day. Everyone told you that the first one was the worst that, as the years went by, it would get easier. It was meant to be comforting but, to you, it had always sounded more like a threat.

You took a deep breath in, exhaling slowly through your mouth as the hands of the clock ticked on, bringing you closer and closer to the moment of truth. You were vaguely aware of the other mentors flitting around the large viewing room but they were like flies or little birds; pretty, but ultimately distant and unimportant when compared to the screen in front of you. You cracked your knuckles. It should be starting soon. Where was Adam right now? You wondered. Was he in the loading bay? Did he have his tracker in? Had his stylist helped him into his clothes already? Surely she must have. Your eyes flicked to the clock. Yes, by now he would be dressed and ready, maybe even already in the tube. What did they have in store for him?

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you swallowed hard past the lump in your throat. Arketia was explaining what to expect and you were trying to listen, you really were, but your eyes kept being pulled towards the glass ascension tube in the corner of the room. It was like a magnet, pulling you closer and closer to death with every passing second and there was nothing you could do but stare.

A rough hand under your chin pulled you back to the present.

“Focus!” Arketia insisted forcefully, “I’m trying to save your life here you silly girl.”

You winced as her grip dug into your chin, but nodded, recognising the sincerity in your stylist’s eyes.

“Sorry.”

Her gaze softened and she let go, gesturing to the outfit in front of you again, “Like I was saying; this is all cotton or some other lightweight fabric designed to breathe,” she explained, “except for the jacket. That means hot days and cold nights, you understand?”

“Yes,” you answered, looking over the beige and khaki outfit with a growing sense of dread.

“I would bet on it being some sort of desert,” she continued, “like a savannah or veld land.”

Your bottom lip trembled with the effort to stop yourself from crying, and you could feel the tube pulling your gaze, but you resisted. Arketia was trying to help. And, some part of you pointed out, this might be the last friendly interaction you would ever have.

“If it is, you have to find water, and soon,” she told you, a sort of desperation in her eyes, like she was trying to burn the information into your brain with only her gaze, “you’ll lose a lot in those high temperatures, more than you expect. And it’ll get extremely cold as soon as the sun goes down, so try to find somewhere sheltered to sleep, alright?”

You nodded, biting back a comment about how that was fairly general advice and letting her help you strip out of your fancy capitol clothes. All too soon you were dressed, and all you could do was wait together, sipping on bottles of water like they were a lifeline and letting your anxiety creep up and up and up and up.

“Jesus Christ, you’re really not listening to me, are you?” A voice questioned, snapping you out of your reverie with a jump.

Finnick collapsed onto the couch next to you, his perfectly sculpted face the picture of calm. You could see the tension he was holding in his body though, in the way he held his shoulders and fists. As you examined him further you could see the signs of sleepless nights in his face too. You smiled weakly.

“You look wrecked,” you teased, “your stylist didn’t have something to cover up those designer eye bags?” You asked, poking his cheek with your finger.

He laughed, moving his head away from your prodding, “Hey! Who asked you, kid? It’s rude to pick on me in these trying times.”

You scrunched up your nose, “Oh come on, you know you look perfect as usual. I pick on you purely out of jealousy.”

The banter was light hearted and joking but you both knew that it was nothing more than a smokescreen, a comforting exchange that kept you both from spiralling into uncontrollable panic and fear.

“Aww, Y/N/N,” he replied, the smile not quite reaching his eyes, “you’ve got nothing to be jealous of, kid.”

You flushed but, before you could answer, the anthem rang through the crowded room, silencing everyone and drawing their eyes towards the screens. You felt Finnick tense up beside you but you were frozen in place. Your heart was pounding in your ears as the cold hand of dread gripped your heart. For a moment, as the screens came to life, all you saw was the savannah, the miles and miles of brush and sand and the blistering sun, and the cornucopia; blindingly bright in the sun. And you were right back in it. Only the faint brushing of Finnick’s knee against yours pulled you back. You took another deep breath.

“I can do this,” you promised yourself, “I can do this.”

And with that, you pushed your panic deep down into the recesses of your mind and focused on the scene before you. You heard Finnick sigh with relief, and a few quiet sounds of celebration from the other mentors and you couldn’t help but agree, feeling the knot of worry in your chest loosen slightly. The arena was green, with sloping hills creating a sort of river basin and a towering wall of concrete and cement in the distance that looked like a dam. That fact, in particular, made you smile. Your district was full of dams, they were how you generated power and, even if the dam in the arena was unhelpful, you knew the sight of it would give your tributes some comfort the same way the river would for the tributes of district four. James caught your eye and gave you a brisk nod.

You heard the booming voice of Claudius Templesmith as he announced the start of the games, and the roaring cheer and excitement of the crowds of thousands of Capitol citizens who had gathered in the outside viewing areas. It made a rush of bile rise up in your throat.

The countdown began and, instinctively, you reached out and grabbed Finnick’s hand, squeezing tight as your eyes finally found Adam.

“3….2….1,” the robotic voice called.

“And so it begins,” Finnick said softly.

You nodded, “And so it begins.”

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

@i-love-you-green , @heatherhollowayst

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rohad93 · 4 years

Text

Moonlit Masquerade: Replacement

Pt 2 of Post- Moonlit Masquerade

It was Friday morning as Luz rolled over in bed, stretching the kinks out of her muscles. She blinked blearily into the sunlight that was streaming into her room; blinding her.

She smacked her mouth a few times, trying to rid it of that horrible morning taste as she slowly sat herself up and scratched her head. She could feel her hair sticking up in every direction as she did and half-heartedly tried to comb her fingers through it. It was starting to get longer than she usually let it grow, which made sense. She'd had her last haircut about a month before she'd come to the Boiling Isles and it had been about two and a half months since she'd chased Owlbert through the portal.

Maybe she could get it cut in town this weekend. If she was lucky she could take Amity along and they could make a date out of it afterward.

Or she could invite Gus and Willow too and they could all hang out in town afterward, she definitely needed to spend more time with her other friends, she had been spending a lot of her free time with Amity, which her friends assured her they understood, but she was determined to make time for everyone.

Amity may not even be able to hang out this weekend, or Gus and Willow, which was a disappointing thought but she'd just talk to them at lunch.

With that thought, she quickly set about getting dressed for school.

She could smell food being cooked even before she started thundering down the stairs toward the kitchen.

"Morning!" She smiled, walking over to her seat and leaning down to kiss the top of King's head as she passed, making him giggle in his seat.

"Good morning, Luz." Lilith nodded to her as she sipped on her customary morning cup of tea.

"Hey, kid. I made pancakes!" Eda said, setting a plate in front of her.

"Oh, my favorite!" Luz wasted no time digging into her meal.

Eda wasn't the best cook, actually for the most part she was pretty bad, but she tried. She'd gotten pretty good at pancakes though; which Luz was grateful for.

They were good, and when she made them Luz always stuffed herself to bursting, no matter how miserable she would be on her way to school and through her first couple hours of class.

Today was no exception.

When her plate was all but licked clean she stood and shouldered her bag.

"You got plans for the weekend, kid?" her mentor asked her from her place at the sink, washing the pancake pan.

"I need to get a haircut, I figured I'd see if Amity or Willow and Gus wanted to come with me and hang out in town after," she said shrugging.

"Well if ya want, I can cut your hair and you can still hang out with your girlfriend and the rest of the nerd brigade after." The witch offered.

"You? Cut hair?" Lilith snorted from her place at the table and her sister shot her a glare.

"Yea, that'd be great!" She beamed at Eda and the glare faded into a soft smile as she looked down at Luz.

"Great, I'll get my shears!" She grinned and Luz wasn't sure if she was kidding or not. It was hard to tell sometimes, she laughed anyway as she started for the door.

"I gotta get to school, bye!" She turned to go but was yanked back by her bag.

"Don't forget your lunch." Eda held up a paper sack with a knowing grin.

"Oh, right." She smiled taking the bag. "Thanks, mom."

She froze, bag In hand.

Luz blinked and looked up at the older witch who was staring back at her wide-eyed and mouth ajar.

The rest of the kitchen had also gone silent. Lilith was looking at them equally shocked and King blinked, looking around at all the suddenly quiet woman. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on but the sudden oppressive silence kept him quiet.

"I mean… I gotta go!" Luz turned and ran out of the house, clutching her lunch to her chest, the door slamming shut behind her.

Eda watched her go, still not saying anything.

Lilith watched her sister quietly as she stood there, frozen, watching Luz leave the house.

"Edalyn?" she called and that seemed to jog Eda out of it.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." She turned back to the sink and started washing the pans again but there was a distinct jerkiness to her movements.

"That was… unexpected," she said testingly. Eda made an agreeing noise but nothing more as she continued to scrub at the pans.

She shared a brief look with the demon sitting at the table, who seemed to get the hint and grabbed his plate before hopping down out of his chair and trotting into the living room.

Lilith rose and walked over to the sink, stopping a few feet from her sister.

"Edalyn?"

"What?" It lacked any of its usual bite or snark.

"Are you alright?" she asked, still looking at the back of Eda's head.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she grunted.

Lilith pursed her lips, no point beating around the bramble-thorns.

"Because Luz just called you 'mom'," she said and again Eda froze at the word, not turning away from the sink.

"So?" Eda's voice was tight and Lilith blinked before stepping closer to peer around her sister's mane of hair.

"Oh"

Eda jerked, finally turning to look at her elder sister and Lilith could clearly see the water welling up in her sister's dual-colored eyes.

"What?" she snapped, glaring, but the tremble in her voice made it lose any of its bite.

"You know…," she started slowly. "It's alright to be happy she called you that," she finished and Eda turned away sharply.

"Luz doesn't need someone like me."

"Would you leave the child to fend for herself?"

"I never said I wouldn't take care of her!" Eda growled, turning a glare on her sister, but it quickly died. "Luz has a mom."

"That she may never be able to return to. We have heard not even a whisper of another portal to the human world. As far as we know yours was the only one, you may need to consider that Luz may never leave the Isles, what then?"

"I'll take care of her." Was the simple answer. "But she's not my kid," Eda managed to mumble. Lilith cocked a brow at that.

"But It's alright to think of her as yours." She pushed. "She clearly, for reasons I do not understand, thinks very highly of you." When the light jab didn't elicit the usual response she frowned. Lilith felt she had a pretty good idea of why her sister seemed so conflicted.

"What happened with the portal was… unfortunate… but Luz made that choice, to save you. You shouldn't feel so guilty about being happy that she views you that way."

Eda's grip on the panhandle tightened.

Her sister was hitting the nail on the head and she didn't like it.

She did feel guilty.

Luz was stuck here because of her, she didn't have any right to be happy about it, but she was.

She loved that kid, fiercely; like she'd never loved anyone.

Of course, Lilly could tell too.

She sighed, looking at her sister tiredly out of the corner of her gray eye.

"If Luz needs me, she's got me, she knows that, but I'm not gonna go and try to replace her mom."

"Nor should you, but there's no reason to beat yourself up over it if she views you that way, nor being happy about it," Lilith said.

Eda grunted in response, conversation over and Lilith walked away. Once she was gone Eda allowed herself to smile.

~ ~

Luz ran till she was almost to school, mind racing with complicated thoughts and feelings.

She had called Eda 'mom', and it had slipped out so naturally; too naturally.

She was frowning, still lost in thought when she arrived at school. Her friends and Amity were standing near the front steps, waiting for her.

"Hey, Luz!" Gus called and Willow waved at her as she walked up to them, stopping next to Amity

"Hey guys." she smiled but it was lackluster at best. The three of them frowned.

"Uh, you okay?" Willow asked.

"Huh, yeah, I'm fine…" she gripped the strap of her bag tightly. The three witches shared a glance.

"Are you sure?"

She looked up to see her girlfriends concerned, gold eyes trained on her. She could feel Gus and Willow's looks as well.

She nodded, not trusting her voice right now.

The bell's scream echoed through the courtyard, making her jump.

"We better get going," Gus said and Willow nodded and turned to follow him into the school, but not before she shot Amity a look over her shoulder.

The youngest Blight nodded.

The courtyard was practically empty now as students began to make their way to their classes.

"I better head to the construction track hall…," Luz mumbled, taking a step, but was stopped as Amity grabbed her hand. Luz blinked at her, waiting, both eyebrows raised questioningly. Amity took a step closer

"Hey, you know you can talk to me if somethings wrong, right?" she asked quietly.

"I know… I just…" Luz trailed off, looking at the ground.

Amity's hand wrapped around hers squeezed reassuringly and Luz couldn't help but squeeze back.

"It's just a lot right now… later?" Luz looked back up at her and Amity nodded giving another light squeeze before sliding her hand out of Luz's.

"Later" she repeated before she hurried up the steps into the building.

The day dragged for Luz.

Lunch was a little tense, her friends could tell that something was bothering her, but she was sure Amity had talked to Willow at some point because none of them tried to ask her what was wrong, though they clearly wanted to. For that she was glad. She was touched by their concern, but she still wasn't ready to talk yet. She was still trying to organize all her mixed up feelings.

Time ticked by, heedless of her inner turmoil, and before she knew it the final bell screamed and she was walking down the steps of the school, and around the building where her teleportation glyph was waiting, hidden by the foliage.

Like her illusion glyphs, it seemed to stay in place even after use, which was convenient since it was the most complicated one in her arsenal. It would have been a pain to redraw after every use.

She tapped her hands to it and thought of Amity's secret room.

Once the portal blazed to life she stepped through and appeared inside the room and the portal blinked out of existence.

The room was empty, she'd beaten Amity here, which she usually did on Fridays, abominations were farther away from the front of the school than the construction track.

She dropped her bag on the floor and flopped face-first into the cushions on the floor with a tired sigh.

It was about 5 minutes later that she heard the portal once again appear in the room, but she didn't move.

She listened to Amity's quiet shuffling as she put her school things on her desk.

A moment later the cushions shifted, but she still didn't move and neither did Amity for a few minutes.

Then there were fingers running through her hair comfortingly, but still, no words were spoken.

She hummed and turned her head, peeking out from the fabric to find Amity sitting on the floor next to her, looking concerned.

Luz hated it when anyone worried about her, but she especially hated it when she caused Amity to worry.

The witch, for her part, said nothing, just waited patiently for Luz to be ready to talk.

Luz sighed and pushed herself up, flipping around to sit on the cushions.

"I called Eda 'mom' this morning," she finally mumbled, but she knew Amity had heard her.

"Okay?" Amity said, waiting, sure that could be embarrassing, she’s called some of her teacher’s ‘mom’ before, but clearly Luz was bothered by this for some reason.

The Latina pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

"I feel… guilty," she finally mumbled,

"Why?"

"Because she's not… because… my mom is out there, in the human world, not knowing that I'm here, that when summer is over I'm not… coming back; that I've replaced her," she choked out the last words, eyes filling with tears.

Amity wrapped an arm around Luz's back and the human leaned into the touch, seeking comfort. Amity wrapped her other arm around her trembling form.

"It's okay, Luz." Amity tried to soothe.

"I miss her a lot… and I want to see her again, but… I also don't want to leave…" she looked up at Amity, tears dripping down her cheeks. "That's awful isn't it?" she sniffled.

"I don't think it's awful." Amity wiped at the tears.

"But I've replaced her! I don't want to go back, even if I could, and I feel terrible about it, that I'd just leave her alone!" Her voice cracked with a sob, she buried her face in Amity's neck.

She ran her fingers through her hair, her heart ached for Luz.

"It's okay to want something even if it makes you feel guilty, and you're not doing it on purpose… even if you wanted to go back you can't, that's not your fault."

"I destroyed the portal…," she choked.

"To save Eda."

"It was my fault she was captured in the first place…," she hiccuped, through another choked cry.

"You were trying to help her… and maybe you were going about it the wrong way, but you were doing it for the right reasons…," Amity mumbled. "I don't know your mom, but if the way you talk about her means anything, I think she'd just be happy that you're okay, even if it's in a whole different world."

Luz didn't say anything, just cried.

They sat there quietly for a while until Luz's tears started to dry.

"I guess… I just didn't realize how much she acts like my mom… kinda." Luz couldn't help the small wet chuckle at the comparison.

Amity smiled but didn't say anything.

"She makes me breakfast and packs my lunch… always asks me how school was when I get home… it makes me feel guilty..." she trailed off still sniffling.

"Just because you love Eda doesn't mean she's going to replace your mom and she'd probably be glad to know someone is taking care of you," Amity hummed.

"Yeah…," she mumbled.

After a while, Luz finally pulled away and wiped at her eyes with the heels of her palms before finally looking at her.

"Thanks, Amity," she said quietly, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

Amity smiled back, glad that she was no longer crying.

"I should probably head home…" she sighed and stood, Amity following.

"Right…"

"Meet me in town tomorrow, same place and time?" she asked.

"I'll be there." Amity smiled.

Luz quickly kissed her cheek, saying a quick bye before activating her glyph and teleporting home.

~ ~ ~

It was later that evening when Luz finally came out of her room and walked down the hall to Eda's door.

She hesitated a second before knocking on the closed door.

"What?" Came from the annoyed call from the other side.

"It's me, can I come in?"

There was a brief pause.

"Sure, Kid."

Luz peeked inside to see her mentor laying haphazardly in her nest, she sat up as Luz slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.

"Hey… can I talk to you?" She asked.

Eda patted the spot next to her.

Luz climbed in and settled herself down next to her mentor.

"What's up, Kiddo?" she asked, seeing the pensive look on her face.

"It's… about this morning…" she started.

"Ah, it's okay, Luz, I know ya didn't mean it." She waved a hand, even though it hurt a little to say that, which immediately made her feel guilty.

Luz bit her lip, shuffling around in the branches and grass.

"But… I did, I guess." She looked up at Eda, who was starting back, surprised and Luz felt her face heat up.

"I… miss my mom… but I feel like I should miss her a lot more, but I don't… because I have you," she mumbled, looking down at her hands. "I feel guilty… like I've replaced her…" she frowned.

Eda watched her quietly for a moment before wrapping an arm around her and tugging in close.

"Listen, Luz," she started, drawing the girl's eyes back up to her. "I'm not gonna replace your mom, and I wouldn't want too and trust me, I doubt I'd be a very good replacement even if I was… but, I think it's time we took a hard look at the facts here. You might be here for… a while." she said after a long pause, carefully omitting the word 'forever'.

To her surprise, Luz just nodded.

"But I'll tell you this: I love you, kid, and so long as you're here, I'm gonna take care of you, okay?" She squeezed the girl's shoulders and Luz leaned into her hold, smiling. " If the ‘M’ words slips out sometimes… we’ll just roll with it… you shouldn't feel guilty about anything."

"Amity said something similar."

"Well, you should listen to her, your girlfriend's smart," she chuckled. "All that being said, I think it's time we got you some permanent stuff."

"Like what?"

"Well, you need a scroll so your friends and I can actually get a hold of you when you're off causing trouble… heck you need a bed!" She flung out an arm.

"I would like a bed…" she admitted sheepishly.

"Then it's settled, tomorrow’s Saturday, we'll go out and get some stuff."

"Thanks, Eda." She smiled up at her.

"Sure thing, Kid." She squeezed your shoulders.

#Lumity #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Eda Clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #Willow Parks #Gus Porter #fic #toh #the owl house #Moonlit Masquerade

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escher-room-with-a-view · 3 years

Text

here comes the

man.

hello

adult man.

welcome

taxpayer.

(/ref)

there he is!!! he is here!!

dude i am SO excited because i have been trying for literal MONTHS to figure out a way to reconcile my headcanons for jareth’s different forms with each other and i FINALLY DID IT!!! i don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before, but at some point i realized that each form could just serve a different purpose or represent a different state of mind. (the art of his beast and goblin forms doesn’t really convey that, and i’m sorry. at the time i was working on them, all i was really thinking about was getting the designs down. i’m also not very good at conveying emotions on non-humanoid beings, but i’ll do my best to get better at that, so i can better demonstrate what these represent in the future!)

anyway here’s a more in-depth explanation. man at this point i don’t even know if this can be called a headcanon anymore because it’s kind of far removed from canon but i Do Not Care, i’m just hyped to share this because i’m really proud of the idea! /lh

in my mind, he has four forms, two (possibly two and a half) of which we see in canon. the route i decided to take was “what better way to handle a polymorphic BBEG than to write his forms like the phases of a video game boss?” so here they are!

Owl — This form can be considered a “phase zero.” Jareth typically uses his owl form to masquerade as harmless, travel between realms, and hide his true nature from humans.

Humanoid — His “first phase,” so to speak. While not usually used in physical confrontations, this form is used not only to dramatically reveal and show off his magical prowess but also to intimidate. This is his favorite form by far; it and the owl form are the only shapes he feels comfortable assuming. While not necessarily happy with his appearance as a humanoid, he finds it to be the lesser of three evils and prefers it over the next two.

Beast - Phase two, and the form we see a brief glimpse of in Masquerade. This form appears to surface almost exclusively in moments of panic or rage, serving as a sort of self-defense mode. To name some more specific examples, the beast form rarely, if ever, manifests itself voluntarily—Jareth hates it far too much for that, as it represents an undignified and wildly emotional side of himself that he isn’t ready to confront. However, it has been observed when he’s been physically threatened, his ego has been bruised by a direct insult, or a situation in which he’s had no visible options left has driven him to panic. In dire circumstances, the beast form may be used to flee rather than fight; eight feet tall at the shoulder, his long legs and quadrupedal gait make it easier to run away from an impossible battle.

Goblin - His final form—not necessarily a true form, as none of these are any “truer” or require any more energy than the others. However, if one were to face him in a proper boss fight, this would be what he reverts to after his beast form is defeated. In fact, the goblin form is symbolic of defeat. Shrill-voiced, diminutive, and usually angry, it’s this form that makes Jareth feel the weakest. It lacks the elegance or intimidation of any of his other forms, and its magical abilities seem limited to casting small illusions or doing things to avoid trouble rather than cause it. He only ever seems to assume this form when he’s been completely outwitted, and there’s no hope left of him winning. There is speculation among goblins that, if this form exists at all—all those who’ve seen it have been bogged before they could tell the tale—it may be used for covert dealings in who knows what. These suspicions remain unconfirmed, as Jareth—as you may have been able to infer—refuses to acknowledge the existence of this form.

im really proud of the art, but i’d like to redraw the second and third forms someday to be more expressive! i’d also like to improve things like shading!

also, in his humanoid form, i did my best to give him a distinct and expressive silhouette. this is why his hair curls in a way that resembles a pair of horns, and why i decided to use shape language for once (/lh). fun fact: that shape language was based on mettaton EX, and i regret absolutely nothing. i should clarify that his vest is slightly altered because in canon it’s so dark that i can barely discern the pattern on it, so i decided to draw it in a way that was easier

also the goblin form was based on @withinthecrystal’s hc that jareth would look like a firey as a goblin, which i really wanted to experiment with, so i did!

#labyrinth #jareth #jareth the goblin king #labyrinth fanart #art #my art #digital art #labyrinth headcanon

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unholyeverything · 4 years

Text

I finally made one of those again, and I wanted to share and actually tell you the whole story of my art since this is actually my 10th year of drawing, believe me or not :3 This is also actually the biggest audience I ever had and I’m so grateful for all of you, and for Obey Me! to stumble into my life because, you will see, I completely lost motivation and any ideas to actually draw in the years prior. I am so grateful for all that’s happened, and thank you for being here with me! I found friends here again that I wouldn’t give up for anything, they make me feel better about myself and what I do and I’m gonna cry on you. I love you ;A; Feel free to read through the rest I put them under the cut. But I’m really proud of what I achieved that year. I finally found my love for drawing again. DiaLuci gives me serotonin, I made some OCs that I love and that are the most detailed I ever made. And I also drew the most detailed pics I ever made, you can see under the cut how little backgrounds I drew, and now looking at this, I made one extremely detailed one each month. I had to figure out a style I enjoy again, which I luckily did, but I also still like to experiment and not stick to one thing, but I enjoyed trying out new stuff! I put more effort and detail in again, and I really hope I will keep this up even when I start work, I really hope I will! I’d be sad. I finally enjoy this again, I finally have ideas again. I’m feeling so much better, so thank you all for that!

I fist started drawing in 2011, when I was 12. I started since I joined the warriors fandom as my aunt gifted me one of the books and they had a like to an online forum that was handled by the publisher. So I signed up there with my parents permission obviousely. Don’t let any 12 year olds on other sites, thank you. I joined DeviantART when I was 13 and allowed to. I’m a good kid. But anyways, I drew a lot of animals, mostly cats and dogs thanks to that. I also drew a lot in the beginning, so many ideas and I had a few friends that supported me too, it was nice and made me want to keep going.

2012 was the same, and I still think the first few years when you start are the ones you have the highest spike in improvement. Still drew a lot each month, started to draw lots of chibis as well. I never really studied anatomy, only watching a few colouring tutorials. I just wanted to have fun.

I started to get better at colouring this year and started to add lots more datails and spend longer on the drawings, still drew lots and lots.

I’m still fully set on 2014 being the best year in my past, especially for colouring. I put so much effort into everything. But this was also the year where it went down. Some things happened online and I just started to lose interest as I left the fandom. I drew less and less, mostly only one-two things each month. Also since I barely had an audience I started to let that get to me which was stupid, I started to think why should I spend hours and hours drawing something none will look at anyways, so I looked for ways to make my colouring more simpler and put in less details again.

This started to be very noticeable in the year after that. I only had one picture to chose from each month, if at all. I just really started to loose motivation, especially with no ideas as to what to draw. Mostly OCs and occasionally some fanart for an anime that I like. Don’t ask me what October is supposed to be it was the only thing I made that month idk.

2016 was a really bad year. I just didn’t know what to do with myself and my art anymore. I also started uni so that took some of my time, but not that much, during my holidays between end of school and beginning of Uni from July til October I also didn’t draw much. I only tried a lot of new things, simplifying and not being happy with anything that I made. Aside from November I don’t like any of those pictures. But as I sad, I was just lost and had no ideas anymore, I didn’t feel good about the things I made but I kept going, forcing myself to draw at least once in a while so I don’t completely forget how it works.

2017 I felt inspired again, making up that extremely colourful style that I adapted now again, it gave me serotonin and at least I liked what I was making again. I drew a lot more in the beginning of the year two, just enjoying slapping colour on everything. But I lost motivation pretty soon, I also felt kind of lonely now that I think about it, I wasn’t super sad but I didn’t really had anyone to talk to, breaking up with my toxic ass friends about half a year before school ended and I didn’t really find anyone in uni that I was close with. I just sat around after classes and watched anime until I dropped to bed pretty early everyday. I’m still proud of my very strict sleeping schedule, that happened mostly because I had no reason to stay up :D But anyways, there are a lot of month, strangely enough my big break months where I didn’t draw at all, I probably was too lazy and exhausted.

Best. Year. Of. Drawing. Peridot. Outdid myself. Very much art. So good. Had so many ideas, tried three new styles just to go back to the old one for the redraw because I wasn’t happy with them. So much improvement. It’s amazing how much I did that year. Idk. I probably was mentally dead and watched even more anime. Though I also did that in years I drew a lot. Idk.

2019 was a lot better then the year before. I missed drawing but still didn’t have a lot of ideas. But I joined instagram for a short time and there were a lot of these “Draw this in your style” that provided me with ideas, and I really enjoyed doing those. I tried digital painting for the first time then and I’m still super proud of what I did in January. I also tried to work more with watercolour in this year. I spend more time and attention with colouring again, working and changing my style a bit. I still really like what I drew last year! I also have a weird obsession with eyeballs and I can fit three pairs on a face and it still looks okay, can you tell? I didn’t drew much this year but I like the quality I made I guess? Motivation ran out pretty quickly though, and that might be because I also did creative work for university so that could’ve played into it. And now off to 2021 :3

#art summary #art summary 2020 #obey me

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

Text

Motion Sickness Chapter 65

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I rolled up on Seventh Heaven with a backfire or two from my bike. It was starting to become familiar to me. I walked inside to see Avalanche around and getting ready for the operation.

I handed Bisque his new weapon and harness and he grimaced. He took his current one off and put on the new one. "Any advice on how to use it?"

"No. It's a gun. I don't like guns. What's hard about point and click?"

"More than you think," he returned. Fair enough. A lot went into a sword fight, too.

"So… what's the plan, Cloud?" Wenge asked.

I pulled my explosives from behind me and juggled them a little.

"Should you be handling explosives like that?" Wenge asked again.

"Probably not. But I'm not a little bitch . I'd survive. The plan is to set the deck on fire and teleport onboard with Neo. We let them evacuate, we kill robots, we put a hole in the hull. Pretty simple."

"No killing," Bisque said.

"No killing," I agreed. "We'll make that shit look easy, too."

"Let's just hope Taurus agrees," Jasper muttered. "He was insisting on being involved when he was last here."

"Good. We could use another killer on deck," I said.

"No killing?" Wenge asked. His voice came out a whinge.

"No killing, but," I drew out the noise, "we could always use another professional. Y'all are amateurs. You could die. Taurus will take a bite out of those robots, chew on ‘em, and spit them out."

"Well aren't you Mr. Take Charge," Jasper came up and wrapped a hand around my neck and pulled herself close to me.

"Well I have to be. None of you know what the fuck you’re doing and could die." I disentangled myself from her and stepped to the side. Her aura at that range tasted of blueberries. It was a delicious flavor, though, not one I would have thought myself partial to.

We wouldn't be a good idea, Jaune. Remember that. You're probably not a good idea for anyone.

I let the self depreciating thoughts rule me. It was better that way. I allowed the familiarity of it to relax me. Someone getting close to me like that had made me tense.

Neo waltzed up from beside me and put both her elbows on the counter and leaned her head down on her hands.

"Are you feeling alright Neo?" I asked.

She gave me a tired thumbs up. She might just be sleepy. She'd be awake when it came time to work.

"So how have you been handling the training?" I asked.

"I'm sore." Wenge stretched. He twisted side to side.

"You're a monster, Cloud," Jasper informed me. "What's a girl got to do to make you take it easier on her?" Her fox tail swished behind her in red and white. Up and down it went. I tried not to stare at her behind, or close to it. It drew the eye, though.

"Not ask me for help with it for one. You think you're up for this? Not too beat up?"

"I'm all ready," Jasper said. She flexed a bicep at me as though that would prove it. I chuckled a little at her antics.

"Me too," Wenge echoed her. He didn't flex, though.

"How about you Bisque?" I asked.

"I'm green. This ought to help. Thanks Cloud." He checked the chamber of his new pistol expertly. He was getting used to the new mechanisms as we spoke.

He examined the loaded magazines and strapped them to a bandolier on his person.

"I have more ammunition for it. You shouldn't need it for this operation. Leave most of the robot killing to me, Neo, and Taurus."

"Hey Cloud, you're not really, um, going to kill Taurus are you?" Wenge asked.

"I might have to. He's unwilling to play the game."

"And what game is that? The drug game? We don't play that either," Jasper said. "You haven't threatened to kill us yet, though."

"You still play along with it. You play the information brokerage game. You still play like your lives matter and you don't kill just because it might be the easiest option. Taurus doesn't. It's his way or the highway. That makes him unreliable for anything other than his agenda."

"I think I get it," Bisque said. "You can't threaten him. You can't barter with him. He's not like you. You're willing to compromise. He's not."

"Exactly. He doesn't do business. I do. A lot. I trade favors, I sell my skills. He's not about that life."

The bar door jingled and Taurus came striding in. His white mask on, katana by his side.

"Speak of the devil," I said.

He snorted. "What's the plan to take down the ship?" He asked. No beating around the bush. No chit chatting. He was straight to the point.

I held up one of the explosives. "We've got two of these. We're going to plant them on the inner hull." I flicked open the map of the ship on my scroll and showed the group where we'd be setting up the bombs. "I go in first with a fireball to set up the evacuation of the people onboard. Then Neo teleports the rest of you to the deck. One of us stays behind and watches the vehicles. That'll be you Wenge."

"It would be easier and quieter to kill the guards. They'll set off an alarm. We'll only have minutes," Taurus growled.

"Which is why we'll work fast. Neo will teleport us back out. Once we reach the rendezvous point, that is. Here near the command deck."

I pointed out the deck of the ship I was referring to on my map.

"We fight through any machines that stay onboard and get in our way. In and out, five minutes."

Taurus looked at my face and that of Avalanche. "It would be easier to kill the crew."

"No killing. None," Bisque said. "This isn't the White Fang. This is Avalanche. If you can't handle that, you're out."

He had guts talking to Taurus like that. Adam could rip his guts out and show them to him. The only thing stopping him was a tenuous alliance.

"Anyone I knock out will go down with the ship when we sink it. It would be more merciful to kill them," Taurus said. I winced. I'd used similar logic before. It wasn't a far leap for me to see his side. And the operation would be easier if we killed the sentries. But Avalanche had rules and I made the plan live within them.

"We'll give them plenty of time to get off the ship. We've got a teleporter on our side," Bisque shot back. Adam hunched over his weapon like he might draw it. He coiled like a spring, ready to strike with alarming speed. I made myself stand relaxed. If he attacked I'd just have to deal with it.

Neo had spun around on her stool when Adam had walked in. She gave a slow barely perceptible nod when she was brought up.

"Very well," Adam grunted. He uncoiled slowly. But he was no less dangerous. I was sure he could draw his weapon fast enough.

"Then it's settled. We'll only have minutes between when the fires start and emergency responders show up. We'll need to be fast and split up. Neo and Bisque will make up one team. Jasper, Taurus, and I will be the other."

I gave one of the bombs to Bisque. "The bombs are both hooked up to my scroll. I'll set them off once we're clear. Any questions?" I asked.

No one had any. They just stared at me in silence.

"Then let's get started."

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The smog of the town refracted the sunset. Casting red and orange light all across us as we drove. Me and Neo were on my bike and all the others piled into Avalanche's truck.

When we came up on the docks I jumped off the bike and hung in the air. I crushed a dust crystal and cast a fireball forward. It splashed in and through the top deck of the ship we were targeting. The White Whale was bold across its side. It's name wasn't the important part of the story. The cargo was the real focus.

Almost immediately an alarm started to blare and red lights flashed in a cyclic fashion that glinted mutely compared to the fading dusk sun.

I didn't land back on the bike with Neo. Instead I glid forward on the air currents and landed on the deck of the ship. I hid behind a mooring station as people rushed past my hiding place and off the ship. Some took to the plank that led down to the docks and others made for the lifeboats.

I let them past me without making a sound from where I hunched down. There was a shattering sound as Neo appeared next to me with Bisque, Jasper, and Taurus.

The alarm wailed for a moment and no more people came rushing up. Machines began to come from beneath deck and put out the fire with extinguishers.

Adam snarled and rushed them. He cut through them with ease, sheathing and redrawing his weapon as he moved. I got my first look at his style then as he side-flipped in place and cast his blade through the machines.

I gave them all a nod and we worked our way beneath deck. Our two parties split up.

We came across more of the small humanoid mechs and I crushed them with my bare hands where they got in my way.

I drew my long sword and I stabbed through a robot's head. I swung to the side as much as I could in the tight quarters and cut another in half at the waist.

I kicked another to the ground as I descended the stairs and I crushed it's chest under my boot. These machines really stood no chance against me. Most were still armed with fire extinguishers rather than sleek Atlesian rifles. They reminded me of ants. They were responding to only one emergency at a time.

It was easy to destroy these smaller robots and there wasn't really the room for bigger ones beneath the hull.

I came across our planting location and began to plant my bomb. I set it against the outside hull and pressed a few buttons on it. A green light flashed and it was good to go.

We ascended back through the ship once more. We got to the command deck and here there was room for larger mechs and for fighting.

I slashed my way through a robot and felt my semblance activate. I pulled my shield from my back. The titanic broad mobile cover allowed me to protect myself from a firing squad of robots and make my way up on them.

I cut through wave after wave of the Atlesian droids. A massive spider bot dropped from the ceiling. I flew at it and Cross-Slashed it before it could do us any real harm. It fell into smouldering pieces with the wires exposed and flickering.

An explosion rocked the ship and I stopped moving. Something was wrong. The ship began to tilt. Something was beyond wrong.

We fought for a moment longer and Bisque came up on us. He was carrying Neo who was singed and soaked both.

"Your bomb went off on her," he said. "I don't think she's going to be able to teleport us out."

I rushed over and put a hand on her face. "Neo…" I murmured.

She opened one eye and looked up at me. She rubbed her face into my hand and sighed a little. She'd be okay. She'd have to be.

A thousand apologies were on the tip of my tongue. I fucked up. I thought my bomb was set up fine but instead it just went off. There was some irony in this. In her getting hurt instead of me when I was the one who deserved it by screwing up.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to her.

She smiled and nodded.

I deserved to be the one hurt. I'd been so flippant with those bombs. Instead it was Neo who took the explosion. It should have been me.

She leaned into my palm firmly. I drew back. I felt shaky.

"Keep carrying her. We'll make for the docks. Past the fires-"

"You turned on us, I knew you couldn't be trusted," Taurus prowled up on me nice and slow. More like a cougar than a bull. He had his hand on the hilt of his weapon but it still wasn't drawn.

"Me?" I asked. "How would I benefit from our plan getting fucked. The part where I almost lost Neo? Damn it!"

The ship tilted a little more. Taurus's footing remained sure.

He growled and paced into my range. I stepped back and fronted on him. I drew my broadsword against him.

He slashed at me, drawing his weapon from the scabbard lightning fast. I blocked and activated my semblance. I swept upon him with a glowing blue light.

"Wait, you two! We're still on the freighter. The whole thing is sinking, can you really afford to be fighting?!" Jasper called out.

"Let's find out," I whispered.

"I've had enough out of you, human," he said.

Our blades met between us in rapid horizontal strikes. He quickly sheathed his sword and drew it out again in a dancing fast motion which swept all across my body as he side-flipped in place.

I blocked it all. Then I hit him with my baseball style swing, shoulder to waist with my hips turned into the motion and a shout on my lips.

The blow sent him flying back when he blocked it. And he'd been upside down in mid flip as I swung it at him.

He landed neatly despite the brutality of my attack. He pulled his sheath from his side and fired at me. Shotgun pellets buzzed past my head and I floated into a roll. My hand outstretched to get a grip on his collar.

He backed up and swatted at my hand with his blade and twisted. He fired off two more shots from his shotgun. One hit me in the shoulder and made me falter and the next hit me in the stomach and made me gasp.

He sheathed his weapon and blurred at me in a wide strike in the tight confines of the ship we hardly had room to fight like I wanted and our blades scored trenches in the metal around us.

I front-flipped in a tight fashion and brought my blade down on him in a wave of blue. He stepped to the side but I side kicked him, then I roundhouse kicked him, then I brought my blade around at his head in a tight arc which clipped his stomach and made him grunt.

He slid back and I approached him with a back flip. It was an empty hop, all aggression with zero commitment. He held out his blade partially sheathed to block but I just landed in front of him and waited for his block to drop.

Then I Cross Slashed him. He wasn’t ready for it. They never were ready for it the first time. He blocked the first two lightning fast slashes. But the next three lit him up. It flung him down the corridor of the ship and deeper inside.

He approached me again, faster this time because I didn't have Limit Breaker. He unsheathed his blade as quick as a bullet and slashed at me. Then he slapped me in the face with his hard sheath.

I growled and pressed on.

"Go. Take Neo and get yourselves out of here," I ordered. She was at the forefront of my mind. My slip up could have killed her. Even as I fought my mind raced to find the point where I might have fucked that bomb's construction up.

It must have been somewhere and it must have been costly.

It was distracting me in this life or death battle.

"But-" Bisque started. He and Jasper hovered to the side of Adam's and my battle.

"Don't worry about me, just go! Get Neo somewhere safe. Tell her I'm sorry."

I held my ground and Taurus's and my swords met a half dozen times in a matter of a second. Then we seemed to pause with his blade sheathed once more, me with my weapon back over behind my head, ready for a massive overhead.

Then we flickered out again and that impossible moment broke. He came at me from the side. I blocked and sent my blade in a wide sweeping diagonal cut.

He deflected it and came back at me in an overhead slash that tore into the ship above his head. I countered and riposted but I was finding the amount of room I had to move within the bulkheads lacking. I slashed at him diagonally and he twisted to the side and put a firm boot against my chest. He pushed against me.

I stumbled back a step. The ship tilted more to one side as we fought. I came at him again with my enormous weapon making his look like a toothpick. I cut at him twice horizontally, once from each direction. He blocked both by holding his weapon vertically and shielding himself behind it.

He sheathed his weapon and drew it once more in a flash and came at me with a narrow front-flip. He cut me shoulder to hip and I was forced back a little more.

I gave a narrow rolling side-flip. I slashed at him again and cut his chest once more. I tore at his red aura. Ripping away at it, I landed neatly on my feet inside of his range.

He cut me a half dozen times. I had over extended and his cuts came like flashes. They swept over me from seemingly every direction.

I got out of it by kicking him hard in the side of the knee. He came twisting down and I kneed him in the face hard. Unable to bring my weapon to bear against him I grabbed him by the collar and threw him up into the bulkhead and slammed him down into my knee.

I charged in place for a moment. Storing a little bit of time away where I saw the opportunity, I hesitated mid-fight.

I dragged my weapon around and he slashed forward knocking it aside and cutting me across the chest again.

In that moment I became Limit Broken. We'd traded enough hits that I crossed the damage threshold alarmingly quickly. I came at him in my Limitless state. He swept under a bulkhead, around and stabbed at me. I easily blocked to one side. He furiously cut at me and I blocked each and every single one of his strikes in turn.

He did a tight back-flip and slashed at me. He caught me across the chest and ripped a chunk of my aura out. He shuffled back a step.

Then I Limit Break blade beamed him. He quickly sheathed his weapon and left it partially uncovered. He absorbed it into his weapon. The energy went from deep blue to crimson. It crackled for a moment.

There was a moment where he grinned at me beneath his mask. In that second I knew I'd fucked up again. Maybe just as bad as when I got Neo hurt.

He lit my world up.

Taurus slashed at me and released a beam of red energy that washed through the bulkheads and my aura. The world was painted red and black for a terrifying moment as he slashed forward.

It opened my chest and pierced right through my aura. It left my golden aura bubbling off to the side of the cut. The attack flung me back and my head slammed hard into a wall.

The ship was sinking quickly now and I was bleeding all over the floor. I drew my scroll and with a press I set off the second charge as Taurus paced towards me like a tiger.

The explosion shook the ship once more. Taurus stumbled. It was enough.

And like that I ran. I flew away and up stairs. I made it to the top deck with Taurus hot on my heels. I hovered to the slipping bow and I jumped. I floated away, my half cape fluttering behind me.

I flew all the way to one of the buildings near the docks and collapsed on a roof.

I watched Avalanche's truck make it's get-away. They left my bike behind. That was fair enough, I suppose. I felt a touch delirious. Blood loss can do that to you. I examined my chest wound. I'd probably need stitches. It would have been worse if not for my armor.

I was slipping into unconsciousness. I tried to hold on desperately but I was hurt pretty badly. I leaned against a wall and I collapsed.

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-WG

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childhoodgrave · 4 years

Note

whats dtl about ifff ud like 2 talk abt it i see cute sprites & decide i wanna know things.. hehe the top hat n cape guy gif is in sync w my music hehe

IM SO GLAD U ASKED this game is probsbly my favorite game ever its been a special interest if mine since i was 7 and i dont think its a GOOD game per se bt i love it a lot and it impacted me a lot as a little kid w a mild interest in art :)

so basically the game is a little 2d adventure platformer where u get to draw and design the character u play as. its p clunky and the way ur character moves looks rlly silly bt again this game was released in like 2010 on the ds so its ok .. the game also gave u templates to go off of and use too just in case u didnt want to design a character from scratch

the story of the first game is abt this world that was drawn into existence by “the creator” in the book of life. u hav this little sequence where u get to draw the world, and the forrests and the creatures tht wld inhabit it. the creatures tht inhabit the world are callec raposa and they r little fox creature w funny ears :)

like this guy (his name is zsasha and hes a thief but hes like a bad one who ends up returning all of the stuff he steals and also watching over a little orphan girl who he basically adopts LOL)

in the universe if the game the “creator” eventually went silent and the raposa lost hope in them ever returning. the world was slowly shrouded in darkness and gradually all of the raposa inhabiting this little village were either lost or left on purpose bc it was slowly falling apart. the game starts when one of the remaining raposa, mari, prays to u, the creator, to come back and help restore her village, saying that everyone else has lost hope but she still believes you can return to her. u can answer, and either say that u will help or you wont, but either way u end up agreeing to help her and she goes to tell her dad, the mayor, abt it. you create a “hero” to be the vessel you will speak thru, and thats the character u end up designing and playing as. the game is abt going to various areas from the village and rescuing all of the raposa that are lost there, as well as restoring the village to what it used to be and drawing in bits of the landscape, like the sun and plants and stuff.

the villain of the story is a guy named wilfre, who was another villager in the town who ended up drawing in the book of life bc he wanted to create things the way the creator had. he ended up making these big inky monsters and got consumed by them, and when u meet him at the beginning of the game he tears up a bunch of pages in the book of life which get scattered across the land and you have to collect them in order to restore the village.

so u basically just go around saving villagers, collecting pages of the book of life, and redrawing bits of the town that were lost to wilfres shadows. eventually wilfre ends up like, killing maris dad (the mayor) and then after youve restored a majority of the village you enter his realm and kill him!! yay :)

throughout the game you also meet these two weird npcs called heather and mike. heather is a little raposa girl who has half of her face covered in shadows, and shes mostly mute. shes found early on in the game and is taken care of by another one of the main characters named jowee

mike is a character u end up rescuing later on in the game, hes p confused and doesnt know how he got where he is, and hes also different from the other raposa bc he doesnt have ears like they do and kind of just looks like a normal human (even tho none of the raposa know what that is and they just think he looks rlly weird)

in the first game heather is shown to take a liking to mike but it isnt explained why and she doesnt talk to its left unexplained

so yah the first game ends with you, the hero, defeating wilfre. mari takes on the role of her father and becomes mayor of the town, and all of the raposa (+ mike) live happily in the town youve restored. the hero goes dormant because theyre no longer needed and u get a scene at the end of the game w them sitting by the ghost of maris father.

the SECOND game takes place a while after the first game, in which wilfre returns and captures heather at the beginning of the game. he also kidnaps a bunch of the other villagers and transports them somewhere else, and he drains the color out of the village the raposa were in. they end up fleeing on a giant turtle with an abandoned town on its back that appears while the color is draining from the village. inside mari and jowee find another mannequin similar to the one the creator had drawn the hero on in the first game. they pray to the creator for help and thats when u draw the hero u get to play as for that game!! the hero doesnt seem to remember mari and jowee or any of the events of the first game, but they agree to help them rescue heather and all of the villagers wilfre stole.

jowee also has like, this magic pendant that belonged to heather that he found after wilfre took her, which seems to be leading them to where heather is. they use that to navigate the turtle thru the ocean to a bunch of other islands on the world. the second game is basically about traveling to different islands and helping them restore the color thats been drained out of them by wilfre. you also meet these two characters, salem

who is a villain in the first island u travel to, and sock

who is a villager on the first island u visit who ends up befriending jowee and traveling with them while they try to save heather.

so ur doing all of that but THEN, halfway thru the game mari is shown to be talking to wilfre, and then she dissapears. jowee assumes wilfre has captured her too, but shes later seen on the turtle again, and rips out a bunch of pages in the book of life the way wilfre did in the first game, and then wilfre appears to take her away and says that shes working with him now. jowee is heartbroken but resolves to get her back as well as heather

THEN, sock, jowees friend from the first island whos been tagging along and helping out, is ALSO revealed to be wilfre in disguise and he betrays jowee and steals heathers pendent, leaving jowee with basically no means of finding heather and wikfre and mari by extension.

so eventually they do end up finding where wilfre is and mari is like “jowee you dont understand wilfre has shown me the truth of our world and who the creator is and thats why im helping him” and jowee is like “i cant believe yoy are helping him how could you i cant believe you bla bla bla” and so wilfre is like “FINE ill show you the TRUTH of this world” and takes jowee and then the hero is kind of left ln their own for a bit to like wander around the world and try to keep rescuing ppl and such. and eventually jowee comes back and is like shaken up but kind of vague abt what wilfre showed him, but he still decides to side with the hero and the creator and eventually mari is convinced by him to join them again as well

so u fight wilfre again and EVENTUALLY wilfre reveals that if you defeat him basically the entire world will dissapear and thats what hes been trying to avoid by fucking w things and messing with the book of life. so all of the raposa have a bunch existential crisis abt them ceasing to exist if they go thru with this but then they decide to to it anyway bc the alternative is just as bad blah blah and u go and kill wilfre and he does this when he dies which is cool

[the gif was fuckjng broken im sorry but like look up his sprites and youll fjnd it 💔]

and now heather is back!! and her and mari and jowee are all talking about mike and how important he is and meanwhile mike has no clue whats going on and is kind of freaked out by all of this, but theyre all like “mike you need to wake up” as theyre all fading out of existence and shit around him and eventually him and heather are the only ones left and they dissapear too

and THATS when you get the ending and find out it was all like a dream mike was having while he was in a coma after a car crash anx this plays while the credits role lol https://youtu.be/Kur0qaYM1jM

youtube

^ they ended up releasing different versions oft he game w a less dark (but still w the whole ‘it was all a dream twist’) and thats it!!

there was also another game released for the wii that like gave wilfre a girlfriend kind of but i never played it to completion bc it used the wii remotes motion controls to like draw and shit and it was rly janky and hard so i never finished it and most ppl did the same. i kind of rlly want to try playing it again tho bc it was a p cute looking game even if the controls were fucked up

AND YEA thats drawn to life its a weird silly little series tht i was obsessed w when i was a kid and it still holds a special place in my heart :) i basicaly just spoiled the entire series i guess but if u have a ds or a 3ds (bc the game is backwards complatible ! ) id still suggest like getting a cartidge off ebay or something and playing it bc its honestly a rlly sweet and beautiful looking game and i think a lot of it still homds up even if the controls r rlly janky now

#theres also rumors of another game in the series being released on the switch so :)#THIS IS SOOO LONG HAHAHA IM SORRY I RLLY CARE ANT THESE GAMES #long post

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cuntess-carmilla · 4 years

Text

I'm sorry, but as someone who belongs to and participates in an actual subculture, I can't take (Western?) fandom seriously.

I'm not saying alt subcultures are perfect by any means. I'm a goth and I could write and maybe have written whole essays on the bullshit within it, but even with all the racism, misogyny, performative liberalism and such (which are also present in fandom lol), there's just no comparison.

Alternative subcultures, as Problematic as they can be, are ALL about creating something new. I mean, not NEW new, we all come from somewhere, take inspiration, goth came directly from British punk, and pretty much none of the alt subcultures that were started since the 20th century would exist without Black culture, BUT... Guys, the goth subculture equivalent of fanfiction is a song cover.

Sure, lots of goth bands have released covers in order to get popular. Bauhaus themselves did it and they're one of the OG bands, but unless you're a tribute band (which literally only get as famous as they're able to be exact copies of the band they're imitating), no band considers themselves a real band if they haven't at least written original songs, most don't feel like a real one until they release studio recordings or play some live shows. Even those covers they make to get their names around get the eye roll if they don't add anything new and genuinely theirs to it.

Goths who're not musicians ourselves, first of all, don't think we're on Monica Richards' or Peter Murphy's level just because we sing THEIR songs half decently in the shower, like fanfic freaks (normal people who do fanfic excempt) who think their poorly written multichapter slowburn copycat romance is on the same level as Dante's Inferno or Paradise Lost.

Second, even if we're not musicians, we expect of each other to do something. Something original. I mean, people whose LOOKS are carbon copies of some other goth, famous or not, get eye rolled too, you know? This past decade things were a little different in that regard thanks to posers and Capitalism™, but other than that, we actually take offense when someone else copies the individual elements OF OUR FUCKING LOOKS that we cultivated to differentiate ourselves from other goths.

That's why DIY is so big in our subculture, why most of us practice SOME sort of creative hobby (music, writing, painting, clothes making, DJing, design, sculpting, etc) even if we suck at them. At least we try to do something that is completely ours rather than just redrawing a Victoria Francés illustration, changing the color of a dress, and publishing it as ours.

Shit, even our "elders" have no comparison. Fandom "elders" are rarely older than in their 40s, and most of the time they're fucking creeps who dedicate their lives to fictional characters decades younger than them and interact with younger fans in very inappropriate ways. There's asshole elder goths too, but our subculture generates so much genuine personal passion and sense of community, that we don't even consider it a YOUTH subculture anymore.

Our elders are ACTUALLY old. I'm talking people who were there since it started in the late 70s/early 80s as teens or early 20-somethings and are STILL goths. There's goths in their 60s nearing their 70s. And the reason we look up to them isn't just that they're weirdo predatory adults who intimidate or groom us into worshipping them. We look up to them because they've gathered knowledge through up to 4 decades of experience. They saw Bauhaus live before they broke up, they were in a tiny local band that opened for a bigger iconic one so they met them PERSONALLY, they keep relics from decades past, they witnessed our history.

Most importantly, they fought tooth and nail for our subculture to keep thriving not by being self-entitled weirdos pressuring others into validating their everything online, but by archiving ancient zines, keeping recordings of obscure bands who only played one live show before disbanding, passing on their knowledge to younger goths in person or online. They put their own money not into the pockets of big media corporations that don't need to make more billions than they already make, but into the pockets of struggling artists, bars, nightclubs, independent fashion designers, and their communities as a whole. That's why we respect them.

And ykw? I think that's the reason most fandom weirdos don't stick to fandoms for a long time, except for a few who cling to one or two but keep the rest rotating, and why most fandom "elders" aren't older than 40.

A show or movie series ends at some point and most creatives don't stretch them for decades on. Obviously they try to milk them as much as they can but if a story ended then it's over and there's only so much of the same repetitive fanfiction you can consume before you burn out and have nothing left to get your hands on. There's no community, yet you identify with a piece of media at the same level as you do your idk, college majors, star sign and shit.

You don't see me identifying as a Requiem in White fan on my description, I identify as a goth because I'm identifying with a history, a community I've interacted with in person, an ever growing body of new and old art and music, and wear my personal version of the uniform which I didn't buy ready to wear, but is the result of an effort of slowly building a wardrobe since 2007, that I've had to experiment with, play with, and each have their own personal stories attached to it. I mean, I remember EXACTLY what I was wearing when some Evangelical ladies sprinkled holy water on me in early 2008 and I still own those clothes, jewelry and shoes lol.

Fandom identity is, to me, only based on capitalist consumerism as identity and yeah, capitalism has clawed at my subculture especially during the 2010s, but it exists outside of that and it's so much more than buying shit, over-streaming songs to inflate an artist's performance, or taking something someone else created, slapping one sticker on it and calling it ours. My subculture can ACTUALLY politically organize, as can others (punk most notably), you know? Including organizing in rejection to the capitalist fast fashion that almost wrecked us this past decade.

All subcultures have some level of ideology attached to them (for better or for worse, sadly), and it's ideology most of us are passionate about. Goths have always been notorious for androgyny, and all forms of gender defiance are normalized and encouraged. A lot of us pay our respects to our punk roots of anti-capitalism. We don't believe in forced unhealthy positivity, we're less afraid of taboos, we appreciate eccentricity and oddity many times as an active choice against established norms, we find solace and home in what general society finds creepy or threatening...

What similar thing does fandom have beyond campaigning for Johnlock to hold hands or going to pride with some creepy yaoi sign? You guys aren't even good at fighting real bigotry within your spaces unless you're personally affected by them.

It's laughable tbh. I can't take fandom seriously at all, and I don't get how so many people can treat something so empty as if it was sacred.

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