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tearsofcaravel · 2 years ago

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Connection: Part 1

Sammy x (F) Reader

A smidge of Danny x (F) Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: 18+, (F) oral, (F)&(M) masturbation, unprotected sex, squirting, choking

Summary: Enemies to lovers, Sam used to be your best friend, now your sworn enemy

Part 2

“You cannot be serious Daniel,” you huffed out.

Today had been such a great day. It was fall, your favorite season. The crisp yellow and red leaves covered the ground. The cool air wrapped around your body like a blanket. The sweet smell of spiced pumpkin swirled through your apartment. You were perfectly content and nothing could ruin your mood. That was until you came home.

“Daniel..You only call me that when you’re actually angry with me,” Danny laughed at you.

That’s because you were actually angry with Danny, you were furious. Danny’s best friend had been dumped, or rather kicked out. He shared an apartment with his girlfriend who’s name no one had bothered to remember. It was no surprise that no one liked her, he always had a terrible choice in women. He never stuck with them more than a few months, so there was no sense in getting close to any of them even if you wanted to, which you didn’t.

You had no idea how your sweet Danny could be friends with someone like Sam. Samuel Kiszka. Just thinking about him made you sick to your stomach. You hated being around him socially, you only put up with him for Danny. But you would not allow him to be a guest in your home, absolutely not. You would not stand for this.

Of course Danny would open your home up for Sam. You and Danny had gotten a place together about a year ago. You and Danny were long time friends, anywhere that Danny was Sam was sure to follow. A few years ago you actually considered Sam a close friend of yours, a best friend even. He was sweet and charming. You weren’t blind, he was attractive to say the least. You might have even had something of a crush on him, possibly more than a crush. Somewhere along the lines though, you and Sam grew apart, and by grew apart you meant more like mortal enemies.

It was around the time that you and Danny decided to move in together. Everything changed after that. At first he just started to be distant in small ways. He didn’t want to hang out as much. He stopped hugging you or holding a conversation with you. Then it became like he did everything in his power to be as far away from you as possible. You had no idea what you had done, anytime that you attempted to get some kind of explanation out of him he did all that he could to get out of the conversation. After a while you gave up on trying to figure out what went wrong. The feelings he had for you became mutual. Ever since then he was your enemy and that was that. It was like you had no history, like you hadn’t been best friends a year ago.

“Come on Y/n, it won’t even be for that long,” Danny gave you his best doe eyes.

“You didn’t even ask me,” you rolled your eyes. You knew Danny would win this. Despite your hate for Sam, you had a weakness for Danny, and he was well aware of this.

“Because I knew what you would say, you won’t even notice that he’s here.”

“I won’t notice he’s even here? You must be joking. We can hardly stand in the same room together. I give us one night before we kill each other,” you laughed out at him even though you were more than serious.

“Well, he’ll be here any minute so I guess I’ll go hide the knives,” Danny said half jokingly while making his way around the house to check for anything that could be used as a weapon.

Just as you were hoping that Sam would find literally anywhere else to stay, the door to your apartment swung open. You could feel your blood begin to boil. You watched as he waltzed right in like he owned the place. He shot you a shit eating grin, but didn’t even grant you a simple “hello”. He plopped right down onto your couch.

“Make yourself at home why don’t you?” you said not even looking in his direction. You were thinking maybe since you were doing him a favor he would treat you with some decency, possibly even thank you for allowing him to stay. Of course you were wrong. He knew you didn’t want him here.

He ignored your presence and started talking with Danny. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night, so you made your way to your room. “Goodnight Danny!” You made sure to only direct your attention to him. “Goodnight Y/n,” Danny called back to you, giving you a light smile.

“What, no goodnight for me, actually not even a hello, maybe a welcome? You wound me Y/n.” Sam dramatically called out.

“Why welcome you when you’re not really welcome here?” You ignored him and went to bed for the night, sleeping peacefully knowing that Sam was a bit bothered by how well you ignored him.

You woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast being cooked. Danny was the chef of the house. You couldn’t make a meal to save your life, so thank goodness for him. You walked into the kitchen wearing an oversize t-shirt and your underwear. This was how you dressed when you were at home. If you were home you were going to be in your comfiest clothes, after all you were just lounging around, no need to be all dressed up.

“Good Morning Petal,” Danny said as he made you a plate of pancakes. You couldn’t help but to giggle at him. He had gifted you with that nickname after meeting you. You were standing under a tree that had rained flower petals down into your hair, it was cheesy really, but it always made you blush coming from him.

You never understood how someone could be so cheery first thing in the morning. You were the complete opposite, an absolute grouch. You were enjoying your peaceful morning with Danny when the demon emerged from the hallway. Sam didn’t bother looking at you or even greeting you. He fixed his plate of breakfast and sat down by Danny at the bar. The room fell silent, poor Danny tried to make small talk, it was a failed attempt. You could’ve cut through the tension with a knife.

Not a sound was made until you stood up to take your plate to the sink and you heard coughing. You turned around to see what all of the commotion was about. Sam was red faced and trying to get a hold of himself. “Forget how to eat Kiszka?” You did make sure he was alright, not that you would’ve jumped to give him the heimlich. He didn’t give you some snarky comment like he normally would, instead he was looking you up and down. His eyes were glued to you.

You chose to ignore it, thinking that he was just jostled up from choking. Danny didn’t take notice of Sam's weird behavior, he was too busy laughing at him. You cleaned up the kitchen and went to your room to shower and start your day. You went to leave for work, Sam was still sitting at the bar, “Leave any hot water for the rest of us?”

“I left hot water for those of us who actually live here and pay the bills here,” you shot back before walking out of the door.

You owned a flower shop just fifteen minutes from your house, which was ironic given your nickname from Danny. He hadn’t even known that you owned the flower shop at the time. You actually met Danny, and eventually Sam, because they owned a record store across the street. It was storming one afternoon and you’d only just moved to town and you didn’t know a single person. You had waited for the rain to slack up and walked outside to check on things and bumped into Danny underneath a pink Crape Myrtle tree and he instantly became your first friend.

Your lunches used to be spent with the three of you, now of course it was just you and Danny. Now anytime you came over to see him you and Sam kept your distance. You assumed that today would be no different, you made your way across the street for your regularly scheduled lunch break with Danny. Oddly enough, instead of Sam’s usual choice of ignoring you he was snarkier than ever.

“Don’t you have any other friends to spend your lunch with? I mean we see enough of you at home as it is,” Sam called from the back of the store.

“Home? When did you start paying bills?” you retorted. Of course he was going to pick a fight with you. You knew it was going to be even worse with Sam staying at your house.

Sam walked up to the front and had lunch with you and Danny for the first time in at least a year. He continued to do everything in his power to make your blood boil. This was odd behavior to say the least. Danny gave you a weird look with his eyes. You just shrugged, you were dumbfounded.

When you got home that evening you went straight to your room for the night. Sam wasn’t nice to you or anything, he was snarkier than ever. But for the last year he had done all that he could to make sure that the two of you wouldn’t even breathe the same oxygen and he just sat with you at lunch. Like it was nothing.

You had almost dozed off when Danny came bursting through your bedroom door. “What are you doing sleeping? It’s our movie night!”

You had almost forgotten, you and Danny had movie night once a week to unwind and catch up. “That’s right and it’s my turn to pick!”

“Oh shit, maybe I shouldn’t have reminded you, you’ll have us watching something scary or Harry Potter.”

“Just go start the popcorn and I’ll look for something to watch. We are going to be alone right?” you were praying that you would finally get some alone time with Danny, or just some time without Sam looking around.

“Of course Petal, it’s our movie night just for us I promise,” Danny reassured you.

You finally settled on a movie, Scream, your favorite. You snuggled up into Danny’s arms. You were surprised that he didn’t complain about your choice. After the movie was over you caught up on your week and had some snacks. Danny wanted to watch another movie and you definitely wanted more alone time with him since Sam had been in the way lately. You stayed up almost all night when you both dozed off the couch with the next Scream movie still playing. You and Danny were cozied up, arms around each other, as usual. When you were rudely awakened by the front door slamming and the unmistakable sound of Sam’s huffing and puffing.

“Well isn’t this just adorable,” Sam gestured to you and Danny’s sleeping position, “I must have missed my invite to movie night.”

This had clearly gotten under Danny’s skin, which was very rare. He was always the one to referee you and Sam. He always kept a cool head. “You would have gotten an invite if you were wanted here, but you didn't, did you? Maybe if you were nice to Y/n once in a while, but you just can’t seem to do that.”

You were shocked that Danny had said that. He was always a ray of sunshine, even when he was angry with someone he never actually spoke up. Sam was just as shocked as you. He was left speechless. You had never seen Sam left without words, he always had a snarky comment ready to fire back. You were happy that he had finally spoken up to Sam, but still dumbfounded with Danny’s response. Sam retreated to his room and stayed there for the rest of the night.

A few weeks had gone by and things had cooled down. Sam and Danny were perfectly fine as suspected. Danny hadn’t brought anything up and you definitely weren’t about to. Sam hadn’t said a single word to you since that night, which was fine by you. He had gone back to keeping his distance and keeping his snarkiness to himself.

It was their five year anniversary of owning the record store together. Of course they had to throw a party. They always found an excuse to have a party of some sort. You spent the next week helping Danny plan it. It would be at your home of course.

The night of the party was filled with mostly people you knew. All of them through Danny and Sam. Their brothers Jake and Josh were usually the life of the party and you loved their company. You had gotten pretty close with them when you and Sam were at your closest. Everyone was dancing and mingling and of course drinking.

You spent most of the night with Danny, the guest of honor. You hadn’t thought of Sam hardly at all over the last few weeks. Even though he was still staying with you and Danny, he kept his distance. But tonight after a few drinks you thought if you went to congratulate him maybe the waters would finally settle around the two of you. You didn’t have much interest in being friends again, but you knew it mattered to Danny.

You knew he didn’t deserve a moment of your time or breath. You scanned the crowd to find that Sam’s eyes were already on you. You walked over to him, “Hi Sam, I just wanted to say congratulations, I am proud of the both of you.”

He looked confused that you had even interacted with him, almost stunned, “U-uh thanks Y/n.”

It was silly, but for a moment you swore that you saw the Sam that you used to know and care for. His eyes were softer and kinder, rather than filled with hate and rage. You walked away and spent the rest of the night with Danny and his brothers. After the majority of the crowd cleared out you started to clean up a bit while Danny and Sam said their goodbyes. All that was left was you, Sam, Danny, Jake, and Josh. You all sat around talking and drinking the night away. Once you settled into your safe place, Danny’s arms, you almost dozed off. But you turned when you heard Sam scoff directly at you and abruptly head to his room. He didn’t even speak to his brothers. “What the hell was that about?” Jake drunkenly laughed.

Danny just shrugged and gave a strange look to everyone. A little bit later you got up to go to the bathroom, passing by Sam’s room on your way. The door was cracked open and you thought heard a voice from inside. You went to make your way to the bathroom, but then you heard your name. Your name followed by moans. You slowly peeped inside to see if your ears were playing tricks on you. They were not. You slid in undetected to see Sam, who supposedly hated you with every bit of his being, with his hand wrapped around his cock. He almost looked beautiful. He looked vulnerable. He looked like the Sam you knew. He was laid down flat on his back, his eyes squeezed shut, and whispering your name to himself while he pleasured himself. You wouldn’t have believed this if you hadn’t seen it for yourself. This brought your mind into a whirlwind of a spin.

You knew it was wrong to watch this intimate moment, but you couldn’t peel your eyes away. You didn’t want to if you were honest with yourself. You slid back out before he could see you. Jake and Josh left and you and Danny eventually fell asleep snuggled together on the couch. You never mentioned what you saw that night.

Over the next week however, your mind was spinning. You knew that night you had seen just a glimpse of the Sam you used to know, but you definitely did not think that he ever had feelings for you of any kind. It was all that you could think about. That definitely came out of nowhere.

The next movie night rolled around, Danny had called and said that he would be home a little later. So you sat and waited for him, getting some things done around the house. You realized it was the first time in a few months that you had the house all to yourself. This was the perfect opportunity for some much needed release. You had a lot of energy surging through your mind and body in light of recent events.

You headed for your bedroom eagerly. You removed your clothing and got your little pink vibrator out of your bedside drawer. You laid down onto your back on your bed. You began to rub over your body. You realized it had been a bit since you had had some true time with yourself. You slid your middle finger through your slit to find that you were already soaked. You pumped one finger in and out as you ran your vibrator over your clit. You let the thoughts roll through your mind when your mind started to play tricks on you. At first your mind suddenly went to thoughts of Danny. You would never admit that the thought of him had helped you get off more than once. The way that his curls would look wrapped in your fingers and the way that his muscles would flex around you.

Then your mind shifted to Sam. The images of Danny and Sam having their way with you together. You began to clench around your own fingers deep inside of you. Little whimpers escaping your mouth. Then, the only thing that was running through your mind was Sam. You fought it as long and hard as you could. The way he looked and sounded that night that you walked in on him, it was intoxicating. His bare chest with a thin layer of sweat. His long brown hair cascading to his shoulders. How sweet he sounded calling out your name while he took himself to the edge.

It was like you lost all control and began calling out for him just like he had for you. It was pulling you closer and closer to your end. You began screaming his name, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you came. You felt a white hot release and your vision went black. With a heaving chest you opened up your eyes when your breath hitched in your throat. You looked up and in your doorway was an astonished and wet Sam. His eyes wide when they met yours. He had a devilish grin a mile wide plastered onto his face. Your face was red hot by now. You were both silent for a few moments while you were still trying to come down from your high.

What you saw next stunned you even more. You fully expected him to send a snide comment straight your way. Instead, he took his hand to his face, whipping off your release and brought his fingers to his mouth and releasing them with a ‘pop’. “You taste just as sweet as you look.”

“Sam w-what are you doing?” was all that you could sputter out.

“Well I heard you calling for me and I thought something might be seriously wrong since I’m the last person you would call for. And to my surprise I find you spread out all pretty calling for me while you cum,” he said as if this was just a normal and calm conversation between the two of you.

You were not calm, you were astonished and bewildered.

“Whatever you were imagining about me though, I bet the real thing is much better,” Sam said as he slid his shirt off and placed himself onto the bed directly beside you.

You suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment and nerves. You tried to cover yourself with your sheets. Did you even want this? Don’t you hate him? Doesn’t he hate you? You were about to ask a million questions when his warm hand cupped your cheek and his lips met yours. All of the nerves you had felt just a moment ago melted away in an instant. The kiss was slow and sweet at first, then it became dominating. Your teeth were clashing together and your tongues swirled around each other’s mouth. You were exploring each other for the first time. Your hands sliding and grabbing all over one another. You didn’t know what exactly to expect, was this a hate fuck? It was pretty gentle to be a hate fuck.

These thoughts became reality. His hand that once cupped your face so gently made its way to your throat with a tight grip. “Maybe next time I’ll be more gentle with you, but this time I think we both have some aggression we need to release. I’ve wanted this for too long for it to be gentle,” Sam said while he kissed his way to your breasts.

‘Next time’, you thought to yourself.

You were already naked, so he made his way around your body easily. You were over sensitive from your first orgasm, which had led to this situation that you were in now. Every kiss and lick that he gifted you with caused lightning to shoot through your body. You had a purple trail from your neck to your stomach. He licked the inside of your thighs and bit down in the most delicious way. He looked at you for approval, you nodded eagerly.

He made his way to your center. He licked one slow agonizing strip before diving into you like a starving man. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you let out the most pornographic moan you had ever heard. He licked and sucked like his life depended on it. He looked up at you and you could feel him grinning as he worked his tongue around your sensitive clit. He was clearly pleased with the effect that he was having on you. He looked gorgeous settled in between your thighs. He knew that he had you on the edge. “Sam, please, I need more.”

“I think that you can do better than that,” he teased.

You knew exactly what he wanted. “Sammy please, give me more, I want to feel you.” He had such a weakness for you calling him ‘Sammy’. Which was all that it took. He slammed two fingers into you. He pumped them quickly in and out of you, curling them up in the most delicious way. He was hitting your most delicious spots.

You would’ve been almost embarrassed by the wet and lewd noises that he was pulling from you, but you were both far too deep into the pleasure now. Sam looked up at you with dark and lust filled eyes, “I’ve wanted this for so long, you’re being such a good girl for me.”

If you had been in your right state of mind this would’ve shocked you to your core, but you were barely holding on as it was. “Sammy, I-I’m gonna cum, please let me cum.”

“Cum for me baby, be such a good girl for me and cum all over me.”

This was all that it took for you to come undone around him. You tangled your fingers into his long brown hair. You were tugging it so hard that you were sure that you were hurting him. He didn’t seem to mind as he sucked your clit and worked your through your orgasm. You felt another white hot sensation and were sure that you saw stars. When you came to this time, you saw a delightful picture painted out in front of you. Sam was soaking wet from your release and drinking up every little drop. You could’ve cum again at the sight and sound of this.

He sat up and you helped him remove his constricting pants. When you had seen him some nights ago you didn’t get a chance to see him in all of his glory. Now you could see every perfect inch. The sunlight from your windows was hitting him perfectly. When you pulled down his boxers his cock sprang up slapping his stomach. You had no idea he would be this big. Your eyes almost popped from your skull. It had drops of precum and was throbbing.

You were basically drooling at the thought of tasting him. You went to take him into your mouth, but he swatted you away. You gave him a confused look. “I want you to baby, but next time. I’m afraid if you did right now I would cum immediately and I need to be inside of you.”

There it was again, ‘next time’, you didn’t have time to analyze this before he was crawling on top of you. He dove his tongue into your mouth and you were overwhelmed with the taste of you and him. He lined his cock up with your entrance. He slowly slid in, giving you time to adjust to the delightful sting of the stretch. He buried himself to the hilt. He only gave you a moment before slamming into you. He set a brutal and forceful pace. He was slamming in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly. The room was filled with the sounds of your skin slapping together and your screams and moans. You loved how vocal he was being with you. You loved the effect that you were having on him. Thank goodness you didn’t have neighbors.

You were both covered in sweat and sex. He pounded into you making you call out wildly for him. He swiped his tongue over your lips and bit down, you were sure that he had drawn blood, but you welcomed the sting of the pain.

He slid his hand down in between your bodies to draw circles over your clit. “B-Baby I need you to cum one more time for me.”

“I don’t think I can Sammy,” you tried not to sound as fucked out as you really were.

“Yes you can baby, I want us to cum together. Please cum for me, I know you can.”

With just a few more circles over your clit you came undone around his cock. You had tears rolling down your face and were screaming his name like never before. You tightened around him while he continued to slam into you. “Oh my god Sammy, I-I’m cumming, don’t stop.”

You felt him fill you up with his release as he moaned your name. He sounded even more beautiful than he did those few nights ago. He was right, it was so much better than anything that you could have imagined. You both laid there for a moment while he went soft inside of you. You looked into his eyes and saw your Sammy. The one that you had been longing for even when you didn’t know it.

He gave you a soft and caring smile. You were just about to try and get some answers when you heard the creak of your floorboards. You looked up to see Danny in your doorway. His cock visibly hard. Just like you had found Sam a bit ago.

“To be two people who hate each other, you seem to have had a lot of fun without me,” Danny said with a lustful smirk.

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kerubimcrepin · 7 months ago

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Live-Read: The Remington Comic [PART 1]

(but only the bits with Joris)

While I usually try to go about this blog in an in-universe chronological way, I have to jump forward to Wakfu era here — because the next stop in this blog's plan is the actual, released games of the franchise. Which will take around... a million years, I assume?

TOME 10

Worlds most mentally stable demigod. This excerpt from Otakia is included for my Ush-loving readers, and also to give some context: this guy is keeping some of Remington's besties captive, besides turning his brother into a cat.

"Wait… you're taking me to a… bazaar? am I dreaming?" "Pff… wait till you see what's inside."

In the past tome of this comic, Remington and Grany received a tip, that there exists a magical item that can help them, and an address to a shop, as well as the name "Beating Heart".

ALSO. The store has door chimes. Cute.

"Anyone?" "Yeah, I've seen enough." "They have potions, at least." "Grrr..." "What is that thing?" "??"

They don't seem to really like the place, lol.

"Let's see… "The Treasures of Kerubim"… O.K… We're looking for someone called "Beating Heart."" "Is he the owner of this store?" "Anyone home?" "If we can't find this clown, we could compensate ourselves for the trip." "Hello, sir."

SDGJSAHGUISREHGVDSFHGHHAFGSDFKJGDKSFGSDFGSFDHJS

If you think this is awkward, don't worry. It gets worse from here. Also — apparently, the name of the series is officially the name of the store. The more you know!

Well done little fella… You managed to surprise us.

AND YES. They use tu/toi for the., the 600yo ambassador of Bonta. who is also the owner of the store. who also just overheard them discussing shoplifting.

We're looking for a guy named… sir Beating Heart. Y'know him? Maybe that's your father? It is not my father… It is an object. And… the owner of this store, then? Where is he? In front of you. ... So… uh… you say "beating heart" is an object. Sure. And... could we perhaps see it, that beating heart?

HE'S SO FUCKING DONE ALREADY. he HATES them. also him saying he is the owner is so funny, even if it ISN'T a lie. Like. The store is named and themed after a whole different guy.

Insane.

Beating heart... beating heart... Listen to the rhythm of the heart, replace the rhythm of the body. Beating heart, beating heart... Out of sight… Out of mind… Will you give your soul the time?

Very cool poetry, Joris. I do wonder if this is him talking to himself to remember where it is, him liking this rhythm, or him fucking with Remington for his own amusement.

Please wait here. Careful, Mr. Curious. Small chests can contain big trouble Let's have a closer look. Yeah, bring it quick. Here it is, Beating Heart.

He's so used to shitty rude customers. The fact that he keeps vous/vous'ing them is funny. The fact he only calls Remi "mr. curious" is pretty emblematic of his saintly patience.

Say hello to Beating Heart first. Huh? Say hello to a watch? You have to be kind to objects… each one has its own story to tell. Say hello to Beating Heart… you too, funny talking bow meow. Hello? Hello, Beating Heart… delighted to meet your needle. And how does it work? No idea… Objects do whatever they want. I already have a hard time putting them away. One day, a set of table knives wouldn't stand next to an old sword… a real headache, those two.

I refuse to believe that this scene is not Joris deciding to simply fuck with Remington and Grany, by saying insane things for his own amusement, and making them talk to a clock.

That or he's more mentally ill than I thought. Oh well.

You talk to objects and they talk back! better and better… I know how to listen to them, but that doesn't mean they talk to me. But how can this watch help me? Listen, little guy, my brother suffered a kind of curse. An ecaflip named Ush cast a spell on him that turned him into a bow meow. Ush? The bontarian nobleman?

Either Joris sensed he was being taken way too seriously and backed down, or he decided to go "nah they don't talk to me i just listen to them" route because he knew it'd be a way to confuse the two further and he finds that amusing, or he didn't want to come across as crazy.

But in the end, his reign of making them confused as fuck ends with their mention of Ush — with whom Joris has history, and yet, all Joris says is "bontarian nobleman"... He's hiding that history. Because now he's interested.

And it seems that this Beating Heart could help me become a rogue again. Beating Heart has the ability to give its wearer what they desire most. But to use Beating heart, you need the proficiency in magic that you don't have. It's not for sale, sorry. But for your time, I've got a magic hat that curls your hair. Do you know where you can stick that hat? You little piece of…. brat! Come on, come on… excuse him… he's having a bit of a bad hair day right now.

Notice how fast Joris switches gears: he brought these two this amulet, and was showing it off, before, immediately after Ush's mention, rapidly going "you won't be able to use it, I will not sell it, also your hair sucks ass".

As we will see later, you don't need deep magical skill to use it — you need some self-control, so I really doubt Joris was genuine here.

I have multiple theories:

Joris doesn't want beating heart, a powerful magic item, anywhere near Ush's schemes.

Joris wants them to steal it so that he has an excuse to involve himself in Ush's schemes like the noisy curtain twitcher he is. If this transaction is legitimate, he has no excuse like "UMMM YOUR VICTIMS BROKE INTO MY STORE REPLY TO ME IMMEDIATELY ABOUT WHAT YOU'RE DOING???"

Considering the fact that he puts it away under a glass dome, as Remington and Grany, rogues, watch (and they HAVE talked about robbing him) — I am leaning more strongly towards theory #2.

Thank you for everything, dear friend. No, no, you're not going to tip him on top of it! Hey bro? what's not for sale is up for grabs… As we rogues say. That's right… tonight, beating heart will be mine… he he he.

If my theory of this being a honeypot by Joris is right — then hook, line, and sinker.

On one hand, he doesn't exactly look like he's scheming, on other — he doesn't look too worried.

I think at this moment, his main concern is Ush.

(side note, he's drawn really well in this panel...)

#remicomic #ro liveblogs dofus #krosmoz #dofus #wakfu #joris jurgen

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rebellionmoon · 8 months ago

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Illumi Zoldyck, The One True Heir

I'm feeling better enough that the illumi brain rot is settling back in (as it should) so therefore i'm going to talk about my personal head canon about the one true heir of the Zoldyck Family.

Let's begin!

Illumi may not be the current heir to the Zoldyck Family, but in his eyes he is the one true heir. We all know how he vies for that role, to control killua, control the heir, and therefore be the one singlehandedly in charge. Which is the exact same thing Silva wants, but pretends to be the cool dad and yet has zero qualms with his children abusing, using, and hating on each other! In his life, Illumi was definitely molded like Killua to be the future head of the family and probably each Zoldyck child was molded, in some way, to become the head of the family if the situation ever called for them to take up the mantle. But I think Illumi isn't the heir is because Silva doesn't trust him and can't control him. And he's a little more evil than what's expected of an assassin (love him for that honestly. Silva must accept the monster he created. Silva must deal with the consequences of his own actions.)

That and the relationship between Silva and Illumi is probably very botched. Like I said above, Silva doesn't trust Illumi but trust goes both ways because neither does Illumi trust Silva. Silva was a terrible dad and whatever mistakes he made with Illumi he tried to fix with the later kids, Killua specifically. No doubt Illumi knows it but tolerates Silva anyway for his own and everyone else's sake. My headcanon is that when one enters the room the other leaves just to keep peace in their own home, if the situation allows. If they're working together on a mission, they're profesisonal enough to cooperate, but if not, then nope.

Another factor, I think, is the honor or code of being an assassin has eroded through the generations. For example, in the chimera ant arc, Zeno stated that he never kills bystanders on the job and briefly lamented about that when he thought he killed Komugi. Where as the current generation as no problem killing bystanders. Illumi doesn't care and will use bystanders. Milluki doesn't care, collateral damage know? Kalluto doesn't care (his weakness may be to enjoy torturing his victims). Even though Killua doesn't want to be an assassin, he is decensitized to death and doesn't care when he does slice and dice a person up, like on the blimp in the hunter exam arc) Who can we blame for this? The person who taught them and stood silently by to let these 'bad' habits sink in and become permanent. SILVA.

I can see Silva accepting the unnecessary death toll his children rack up. Possibly even rationalizing it. Even Silva himself will kill a bystander if it is necessary, though not to the extreme as his children. Headcanon: To fulfill the end goal of their missions, he'll let needle men and explosions slide. Silva might even be lenient with Kalluto's affinity towards torture, since he himself collects knives from serial killers. Another headcanon I have is that Silva took a morbid interest in serial killers (totally different from professional assassins), their methods and truthfully sees more of himself (at least the younger him from years past) in Kalluto rather than Killua.

The bridge between Silva and Illumi has been burned, but they're still standing at the edge and shouting at eachother from both sides. Toxic be as toxic does.

#Illumi is the one true heir and Silva is the one true villain #Illumi is still a villain and does awful things and nothing i will ever say will negate that #but silva is totally okay with letting his oldest son take the fall so killua can't direct his hate towards silva #why? Because silva messed up the first time and he needs killua to be utterly and blindly loyal to him #in Silva's eyes the perfect heir is the one who does everything he says #and Illumi is done being the obedient child #my post #illumi #illumi zoldyck #hxh illumi #hxh #illumi headcanon #illumi headcanons #silva zoldyck #half of this post was just me hating on silva and i'm totally fine with that

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the-space-junker · 6 months ago

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Up and down: a Dandy's legacy

No matter how I look at it, I just can't be mad at Slayer for some of his past mistakes. I think his song fits perfectly into the rollercoaster ride that is this Dandy's life.

He may have his flaws and he was irresponsible, but in his mistakes, he also created and achieved so many good things. Life is wonderful, it will never be perfect, but even your mistakes can turn out good when you put some effort into correcting them and when you had good intentions.

- Nago was on his verge of dying and even though Happy Chaos took control of him, he is still thankful that to even have a chance to see so much more than he would've been able to see, to experience and to learn in a human lifetime. There were some downs, but overall everything turned into something good in the end and Nagoriyuki - though he cherishes his own independence - is still a part of Slayers found family and looks up to him.

Also - Nago is a cool character and I can't wait to find out more about him.

- Zato was merely a little street rat who had to kill to survive and death was always his companion, be it the death of others, or the hard truth that he can die at any moment. There is something so heartbreaking about the way Zato saw his life. He was lonely, he was a monster for everyone around him- as he told Millia in Night of Knives -, and he was just another worthless kid like thousands of others that roamed the ruins of fallen cities and the abandoned battlegrounds of the crusades.

He had no one and the only reason why he was alive was, because he didn't want to die. His life was miserable and hopeless and I suspect that's what made him so dull in his emotions. Zato never learned what it was like to be loved and he certainly never experienced any kind of human closure. He also never learned what a healthy relationship, love or care looks like.

And suddenly someone saw a worth in him, took him in and showed him a way of life that was much more rewarding and safer than what he had before. You can say that Slayer was his Knight in Shining Armor who ultimately also saved his life. Zato looked up to him, hell he was clinging to him so hard, he must've followed him around like a lost puppy. He soaked up everything that Slayer taught him and it aligned with what he's learned in the streets - never hesitate to do what you have to.

But Slayer is a Nightless and his understanding of humans does have a limit. He saw beauty, elegance and keen intellect in Zato, but I have a feeling that he completely ignored the emotional impact he had on him, because Vampires are built differently and also feel different. He missed the part where a human being not only needs a task, manners, rules and approval, but also love, care and emotional support. Zato is a huge baby, because he craves to be loved and praised and cared for. Slayer missed the point - or was unable to provide him with human warmth.

If you can't see any parallel to Venom...I hope now you do!

Venom is like his younger self and it really breaks me to finally understand what Slayer wanted to tell him in his winning quote:

"If the prince never showed up for snow white, would you have just settled with that?"

Slayer was Zatos prince...and Zato was Venoms! Zato must've seen himself in Venom in EVERY way as he devoted his own life to Slayer and his teachings, to the guild that became his home and the people he once vowed to care for. And Zato could not deal with it.

Venom looked up to him, the same as he did to Slayer, because he was the one person that saw a worth in him. Zato never showed him love, or care, but at least mercy and kindness. And maybe...maybe because of that, Zato was always distant and emotionally unavailable to Venom.

Slayer left him in the end, even though Zato did everything he wanted him to, and maybe even loved him in his own twisted way, because he was his mentor and some kind of a father figure. Zato hated him for leaving his guild and his responsibilities without thinking twice (or so he thought). Slayer was a leader who abandoned his own subordinates and Zato wanted to prove that he was better than him.

But with all his flaws, his trauma and his fears, he must have known that he was just a mere human and if even a Vampire has his weaknesses and imperfections, how should he be able to surpass his own mentor? He wanted to keep Venom out of his heart to count in the possibility that - in his own weak moments - he might do the same to him, or even worse. Zato was never a good person to start with; he was absolutely willing to sacrifice everything and everyone to reach his own goals - even Venom and Millia.

And he knew it. He was aware of all his sins and still kept marching on, right to his own death.

And when he returned from the Underworld, he was stripped of his ego, his pride and the emotions tied to his overboarding temper. In the past Zato tried to contain his emotions and he often failed. He told Millia that assassins can't find happiness and that their fate is only death, but questioned his own life at the same time.

Zato just surrendered to his fate and automatically assumed that everyone who walks the path of an assassin, would do the same, sooner or later. He tried to be a leader and he tried to seal his emotions away, even with the price of his own life, his sanity and his happiness. Zato was so hell bent on being the number one and an ideal for his followers, that he even threw away his humanity to truly become a monster, to prove his point.

There are so many flaws in his thinking and when he came back, he was finally able to see them, because his stupid ego was no longer in the way.

Zato tried to actively improve the lives of those he wronged, without regards to his own feelings or the effort he had to make. For the first time in his life, he acted out of selflessness to help other people and to make up for the things he did to them. Even if it is just words - like telling Faust what really happened on the day he lost his patient, or warning Ky and Gabriel about the cradle and the conclave, it is a huge step for someone like him.

He did horrible things to Millia and Venom, things he can never undo, words he can never take back and he can never give them back the time he stole them. Zato ruined the lives of many people and it must've hurt him to realize that he treated those he was supposed to love the most with such inhuman cruelty.

Venom deserved the life of a human being, where he could find his own way to happiness. And that also meant a life outside of the Organisation.

When you love someone, let him go, even if it hurts. If you didn't fuck up completely, you can still be friends.

Millia's home was always the guild, even if she hated what Zato made of it. But it was the only place she felt where she belonged and to her, freedom meant to shape the guild to a place where she can exist and find happiness. With Zato's and Daryl's deal, the guild was finally able to transform into what Zato wanted it to be, but also a place where Millia can take control of its fate. Ironically they both got what they wanted in the end.

The guild is their home and their family (I want to see how 2Cave ties into that, PLEASE Mr. Ishiwatari!!!) and neither of them wanted to leave it.

But at the same time Zato, as well as Millia, found new meanings for their freedom and their happiness. Millia was finally free to make it on her own, Zato was finally happy to carve a way for her to reach that goal (and he also carved a way for Venom to be free and happy).

He learned to let go - as seen in Millias arcade mode where Zato understands that only if he stops treating her like a baby (or his possession), he can see the real potential of her and how strong she is, if he just let her do her own thing. Millia was always a strong person, but under his control she wilted like a dying flower.

"...but given some clean water and sunlight, it will bloom into something beautiful."

I think in the end, Slayer can really be proud of his 'little princess'.

Zato finally understood what the Code of Dandyism was supposed to be and acted upon it. His life was an up and down and it will continue to be, but he will never be the same person again and even if it is hard to forgive him, you can't ignore the fact that he tries his hardest to prove that even a monster like him can do better.

#guilty gear #Slayer #Slayer GGST #assassins guilty gear #millia ra #venom #zato-1 #zato is a little princess xD #nagoriyuki #everyone needs a hug #especially Zato #just my silly thoughts #i love them so much

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maltmealo · 8 months ago

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Chapter 1: Rhythm of the night

Was blood really that bad? Now that you were laying in the middle of your own blood, it wasn't so bad. Well yeah, it was warm, and sticky, and your bones hurt, but you weren't cold even though it was autumn. Where was the driver? Gone. Probably. No cameras no evidence. But whatever, it was getting colder and you could hear a voice calling for you.

Oh well, maybe in the next life.

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

The buzzing of luminescent lights was welcome in the library silence. god, I wish brought your phone, I’m so stupid. I don't know why I listened to your friends, they're stupid too, you think, biting your lip. The blue light from your computer burned into your retina, even closing your eyes felt like sandpaper. Big bold letters shone on the screen, "HOW LATIN HAS BRANCHED INTO 30 DIFFERENT LANGUAGES" the blinking black line standing proudly behind it. this felt like a big fuck you from the universe, the essay is due in two days and we have a draft title, great.

"You keep looking at the screen like that and the computer might start crying." you jumped, you almost forgot that Meryl was still here. "your bad, didn't mean to spook you. You've just been staring at that computer for so long, I thought you might have died."

"Meryl, I forgot you were here." you pause before you sigh, "This essay does not want to be written." you smack your computer screen in mock anger, it returns the favor by displaying your favorite words "LOW BATTERY, PLEASE CHARGE"

Deep laughing echoed through the empty library, Meryl shut your computer and opened your bag. Meryl, the older brother you never had, part-time librarian, full-time worrier. Before you knew it your chair had slid out from under the table and your bag was dropped in your lap.

"Sorry kid, but you'll have to go home, I've let you stay for far longer than you should of and you didn't even get any progress." you turned to look at the man, a scar ripped across his skin creating a dark ravine in it, he never told you how he got it, just said it was an accident. "You want me to check you out a book before you go?"

You nodded and stood up, picking up the books that lay scattered across the table. trailing after the man as lead weaved in between tables towards the front desk, you set the books down and braced yourself against the desk. The sharp knives of stress already digging into your head, you grit your teeth and slowly lower yourself until your forehead is touching the cool wood. You hear 4 quick beeps, the sign that Meryl has checked out the books. A new sound, the rattling of pills in a bottle being set down by me. You look up and glance over at Meryl.

"Are you allowed to bring that to work with you?" you ask, picking up the bottle of aspirin. He shrugged and pulled out a bottle of water, sliding it over to me.

"Probably not, but also, you look like hell," he said, giving you a once-over. "Plus, you shouldn't be driving home when you're so distracted that you can't even realize that I took your backpack." he lifted up the old dirty backpack and shook it with a smile. your lips drew into a thin line, setting down the bottle and pushing it away from yourself.

"I didn't drive here, I walked, and I don't need your help." you say more weakly than you intended, inwardly cringing at how tired you sound, taking his bag from his hands and swinging over your back, "Plus, walking is more healthy for me and the environment."

This time his lips formed a line, then a frown. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pulling out his car keys. "then ill drive you home, you know drunk frat boys are going to be coming home around now."

"No you won't, I can take care of myself," you hissed, biting your tongue when you saw his expression, "My dorm isn't even that far away."

A hurt look came across his face, he looked away and sighed, "At least wait for me to close up. It's 3 am, and I don't want you walking home alone."

You shake your head and walked towards the doors, "Sorry Meri, I'm a grown adult, and I can take care of myself."

"Don't get hit by a car!" he shouted as you waved and walked out, the crisp cold air hitting you. you shuddered and inwardly cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket, you rubbed your hands over your shoulders and began the process of walking home. The yellow lights that guarded the streets flickered, weird. You felt a chill run up your spine, and bile rising in your throat, someone was watching you. You almost gag trying to force it back down your throat, you speed up.

"Just paranoia, the paranoia of being stalked at three am," you whisper to yourself, your mind racing with the thoughts of someone trailing behind you, holding out a knife, ready to strike, footsteps speeding up. your breath stopped, the footsteps were real, so real in fact you could feel the vibrations in the ground as they got closer. Without a second thought, you ran, ignoring the street you were supposed to turn onto. you don't want that creep to know where you live, the street lamps flickered again, this time turning completely off. This should be annoying if you weren’t being chased by a potential serial killer. Acid rose into the back of your throat as you felt the sidewalk dip, you were in the street now. The footsteps stopped, and you kept running.

Laughing, that bastard was laughing at you. Anger and fear kept you going until you tripped trying to get back on the sidewalk. The lights flicked back on, showing the now bloody pavement your hands were on. you whipped your head back, and there he was, standing right above you. How'd he get to you so fast? you screamed as loud as you could, kicking his knees out and getting on your feet, only to be dragged back down by large hands on your ankles. your head hit the pavement hard, only increasing the stress migraine you already had. Adrenaline was probably the only reason you could stay awake. Kicking and screaming you were dragged to your feet and brought back into the street, being held by your wrists. you could see the bastard now, another scream rose in your throat, a blonde man in his 30s, covered in scratches and blood. But his eye... his eye was bright fucking red, like some demon, emphasis on eye, he only had one eye, the other a black void.

"Get off me!" you screamed, he almost looked hurt. His hands wrapped around your wrists, forcing them together. you could feel your hands turning blue from how hard he was gripping them. You took a small breath before letting out the most blood-curdling scream you could muster. Fighting and kicking to get him off you, the blood from your hands making his grip somewhat slippery. Fear is what got us here, if you fight you can survive, repeating the mantra in your head. Without thinking you kicked his knees in, thank god for a random factopedia. A sickening crack echoed through the streets, he grunted and doubled over, he was still holding your wrist tight.

He laughed again, then he stood up. He fucking stood back up after you broke his knee. A smile replaced the blank look on his face, his face contorting into a macabre version of a skeletons smile. you screamed again trying to kick out his other knee, trying to do any trick to get someone's attention, you screamed fire, help, robbery, 'he's trying to kill me', nobody, nobody was coming to help me, why? This was a fucking residential street why was no one helping?

He dragged you both out into the middle of the street holding us there until the lights flickered back off. His eye was fucking glowing, your panicked babble and screams for help quickly cut off as you felt him being pulled away from you, The lights came back on. Meryl. Oh your fucking god it was Meryl beating the shit out of the red-eyed man. you could only watch as he dragged the red-eyed man to the edge of the street and started pummeling him. you could barely make out anything he was saying over the ringing in your ears and the blaring horn of a truck, wait what?

You barely had time to turn and see the giant semi-truck come barling down the street, when you turned back to Meryl he and the red-eyed man were staring at you. The unknown man seemed angry and Meryl looked scared, he reached out to you as you tried to jump out of the way.

Screeching tires did nothing to stop the impact, cracking bones and the blood rushing to your head were all you could hear. the hard pavement came next, and you were surprised you weren’t run over, the truck seemed to just push you to the side. you can't breathe, your own blood is drowning you. desperate gasps turned to pathetic gurgles. you could feel the warm blood starting a puddle around your body, the cold air only making the pain so much worse. you could hear Meryl shouting, you couldn't understand what he was shouting, footsteps were getting closer, maybe it was Meryl, No, it wasn't, it was the man, leering down at me. He looked sad, he reached down at you, you screamed as best you could pain shooting up your stomach and into your throat.

More pathetic gurgles and tears rose in your eyes as your senses returned to you. Something was set down beside you, you couldn't move, your broken bones made that impossible but out of the corner of your eye, was the raggedy fabric of your bag. between pathetic whimpers of pain and the dark spots littering your vision, you didn't notice the man leave. you were alone, nobody was there, did Meryl leave too? No, he wouldn't leave you, that bastard must have done something to him. The pain was steadily fading to couple your vision. You started to think, the man who chased you, the truck, where was the truck?

Oh well, maybe in the next life.

#transformers #tfa #tfp #transformers bayverse #transformers x reader #transformers idw #transformers cyberverse

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clatoera · 7 months ago

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Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 8: You Knew What You Wanted, and Boy You Got Her

Heeey besties sorry for yet another middle of the night fic drop. We are back and better than ever with some Clato content. This one and the next two are just all about them so! Live laugh clato era!. The next one..is in fact the one you have all been waiting for and I think this one gives the hint as to what that will be. Fun fact about this chapter, is this is the chapter i've been scheming for over a year. It is the reason I made the twins identical. All for this chapter to happen.

Masterpost

AO3

Title from Taylor Swift So High School, because this is like..referencing the uh..we'll just say readiness of her LOL. IDK it'll make sense when you read it.

As always let me tag my beloved @kentwells and @bodyelectric77 who literally listen to me do nothing but talk about this fic. I love u thank you for sticking around.

The first thing Clove does, every time she comes home, is kicks her shoes off without untying them. In the back of her mind she can hear her grandmother, telling her that's how she ruined them, by stepping on the feel with the opposite toe and yanking her foot out by the ankle. Later, she can hear Enobaria telling her at least she’s efficient and in all areas of her life she’s a quick girl. Now, she’s twenty three and even still, it is just so much simpler to slip her foot out of her shoes than take the time to untie them.

She can always buy more.

It’s one of the many things that, after the war that upended her life, has become part of new routine. It should shock noone that the kids who were raised in the strictest, highest level of training academy of District Two, grew into adults who craved some sort of order. Ones who especially craved it once every other aspect of the world around them changed.

It was so simple, really. Clove goes on her little– little, being anywhere from four to twenty miles depending on how much her body could take– run. She comes home. She enters through the back door into the kitchen, because if she came in the front and Enobaria was home Cashmere would catch her on her way and talk to her for fifteen minutes. She took off her shoes, left then right, losing about an inch of height once the running shoes were off her feet. She takes approximately five steps to the island in the center of her kitchen, where she would take off her jacket if it were a cool day. On summer days like today, she pulls the elastic out of her hair and lets it tumble past her shoulders and to the middle of her back where it covers the exposed skin between the elastic bands of her workout clothes. Because it is the beginning of September and summer is threatening to close in on them anyday, she sometimes treats herself to the last of whatever seasonal fruit she has on hand.

Today, though, she bypasses the snack as she glances at the clock above the stove. Six thirty. Something about the time brings her pause, as she cocks her head and strums her nails along the marble countertop. Six thirty. Early September. She just has this sense that she’s missing something. Were they supposed to be somewhere today?

“Babe?” Clove calls out, distracted as she counts out something on her fingers. No. That wasn’t today. Nope, not that either. Nope, the trip to Four is next weekend. Enough seconds pass with no response that Cato either did not hear her or is not home, and at least if it’s the latter she can assume he remembered whatever she didn’t. She tries again, “Cato? Babe, are you home?”

As she calls out she makes her way from the kitchen over towards her living room, still perplexed by whatever it is she apparently forgot to write down. She’s missing something. “Cato, I think we’re supposed to be doing something?” She tries again, but as she rounds the corner she is aggressively reminded of what she was supposed to be doing today.

“Oh look, there’s your Aunt Clovey.”

Clove stops short in the doorway, taken back by Cato standing not too far from the center of the room holding not one but two little blonde babies in either arm. Six months old, almost, and yet compared to the size of him they may as well have been six weeks.

God he’s fucking huge.

Focus, Clove, Focus.

Clove pauses, leaning her head on the doorframe for just the slightest of a second before she crosses the couple of steps to stand directly in front of Cato and the girls, who even still are all significantly above her eye level. “Cato..” Clove starts, an artificially sweet tone filling her voice as she reaches up to grab the hand of one of the twins, not entirely sure which is which yet. “Where did these babies come from?”

“Uh, Glimmer? I mean technically I guess they came from Marvel first but–” Cato shrugs, in doing so making both of the twins giggle as they’re lightly bounced in his arms.

Early September. Six thirty. Three months after her wedding anniversary which is..Glimmer’s.

“No shit, I know they came from Glimmer, Cato. I mean where is their dear mother?” Clove rolls her eyes at him, but holds her hands out to the baby he holds on his left, allowing her to lean her upper body into her hands and transfer into Clove’s awaiting arms.

“She just left, literally minutes before you got home, you probably would have run into her if you came in the front.” Cato explains, though he doesn’t even spare a look in Clove’s direction. Instead he directs all of his words in the direction of the little blonde he still holds, gasping desperately for the baby’s attention. His efforts are rewarded as the baby reaches her little hand up to his face, grasping her little fingers at any part of his face she can find a grip in.

“I can’t believe she actually left them. I don’t think she can even sleep without holding them. I thought they’d be eighteen before she could step away.” Clove mumbles, running her own spare hand through the soft baby curls of whichever girl she holds. “Which one is this?”

“Oh, she didn’t want to leave them. She looked like she was going to cry so I just shut the door on her. I told her she needed to go have dinner or mediocre sex or something.” Cato waves off, peeling the baby’s hand off of his face before he flips her around to face Clove. In the same motion he settles her on his shoulders, little baby hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair in the meantime. He’s been built for a lifetime of discomfort, and so the grasp of a six month old was absolutely nothing on him. The silly smile does in fact start to fall from his face at Clove’s follow up question, and he narrows his eyes at the baby absolutely pulling at Clove’s free flowing hair. “You know, I didn’t get a chance to ask. She was grabbing their hands and I could see the tears and I just pushed her out.”

Clove raises a disbelieving eyebrow, taking the minute to narrow her eyes at her husband. “...you didn’t think to clarify which of the identical twins was which?”

“Well I would have, but I thought she was going to change her mind so. No. How about we’ll call this one Glimmer Two,” Cato holds up the baby’s arm and makes her wave at Clove, which earns an excited little babble in Clove’s direction. “And yours can be Glimmer Three.”

“She’s going to actually kill us if we mix them up. What happens when we switch them and then Stella spends her entire life thinking she’s her sister” Clove teases, but glances down at her own assigned baby who is fascinated by shoving fistfulls of dark hair into her mouth.

“Stella?” She tries, looking between the two for a reaction. Both are too fascinated with the adult who holds them to notice, so she tries the alternative. “...Aurelia?” Again, neither grace her with any sort of attention or acknowledgement, and Clove huffs in impatience. “Now I know they know their damn names.”

“Yeah, and the superior twin likes me better, but they seem pretty unimpressed right now. Do you think there's a secret third?” Cato questions, trying to turn his head to glance up at his designated twin resting around his neck. “Are you Glimmer Two or Glimmer Four?”

“...I’m color coding them.” Clove determines, glancing around the room for the bag full of outfit changes Glimmer brings everywhere she goes. “Glimmer Two is in Pink, i’m putting this one in purple or something. Also you know if Glimmer hears you call one the superior twin she’s going to lose it.”

“Oh we all know you like Stella better, Clove.” Cato flips his baby back around, quite literally, and she lands in his arms with a squeal of delight. A smug smirk finds his face as he glances Clove over from her head to her toes. “I just like to bet on the littlest ones, you would know about that. Sometimes the runt can surprise you.”

“I don’t like Stella better, Stella just likes me better. Aurelia likes you, anyway.” Clove waves off, holding back her eye roll as she gently unravels the baby’s hand from her hair. She offers him a coy smirk, looking him up and down. “Maybe I just take pity on the big ones. Especially the big dumb boys.”

“She’s just saying that, she’s obsessed with me, kid.” He directs towards the baby (who, for what it’s worth is in fact Aurelia), managing to drape the entirety of her little body over the length of his forearm. “It can’t be that bad, they can’t be gone long anyway. I give ‘em two hours max.”

“Lucky for us they actually need their mother so they don’t starve, she’ll come back soon.” Clove assures herself more than anyone else. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the girls, quite the opposite actually. She’d even go as far as to say she adores them, but only to certain people who asked. Still, it wasn’t like she had any experience with being alone and responsible for entirely dependent human beings. Unless, of course, you count preteen Cato. At that thought she glanced around, her attention honing in on the haphazard collections of knives and other weapons around the general vicinity. “...watch her. I need a minute.”

Clove slides Stella down to the floor, and once she is sitting independently on the carpet, Clove goes to step away and collect the literal weapons out of their grasp. Almost instantly a high pitched whining comes from the baby, who immediately has her hands up in the air towards Clove, baby hands clenching into clingy little grasps for attention. Clove pauses, turning in place when she feels the little hands grabbing at her sock. “Seriously?”

The whining intensifies, turning desperate and higher in pitch as Clove glances down at the baby by her leg. She notices the pouty lower lip and almost immediately freezes. “No, no no no, no crying. Please. No crying.” Clove’s eyes immediately flit up to Cato, who’s still standing by her with the smuggest grin on his face. “A little help would be nice, Cato.”

“Fuck it, Clove. They can’t move anyway.” Cato points out, nodding his head towards the whining baby at her feet. “She’s probably literally never been put down in her life, just hold her.”

Clove audibly sighs, and exchanges the handful of metal for a handful of baby. It’s like she’s hit the metaphorical off switch, and the baby immediately stops her threat of tears. Stella settles right against Clove’s hip , laying her head down on her shoulder with not a threat of shedding a single tear. “Is this a joke? Are we going to have to hold them all night?”

“That has to be Stella. She liiikes you.” Cato decides, before he decides to kick back onto the couch with the twin he has deemed Aurelia. “Don’t act like the world’s ending, there’s worst things to be doing than holding cute babies, Clove.”

“They are cute.” Clove muses, resting her cheek on top of the little blonde head on her shoulder. “It’s fucking weird, they really do look just like Glimmer. It’s weird to be holding little versions of Glimmer.”

“They’re just lucky they don’t look like Marvel.” Without much warning Cato reaches out and grabs Clove by the band of her sports bra, jerking her back towards the couch. As soon as her knees hit the edge he pulls her down and to his side, looping his free arm around her waist.

It’s instinctive, the way she pulls her feet up and tucks them over his knee, angling her body towards him like the second nature that it is. “Isn’t it like..a weird thing to you? That our friends made these. Like..literally made them. Glimmer grew these hands.” She holds up Stella’s hand for emphasis, before it once again embeds in the lengths of her hair.

“I feel like they should probably thank us for existing, I mean it was our wedding. It’s not typical that you need to ask your friends to watch your six month olds on your first anniversary.” Cato teases, before he pinches at Clove’s exposed skin.

“Glimmer doesn’t appreciate the reminder of her shotgun wedding, you know that.” Clove flinches out of his grasp, letting out a yelp that startles one of the twins out of whatever little trance they seemed to be in. “She’s a good mom though. They’re lucky girls, to have ended up with her. I think she was born to be a mother.”

She misses the way Cato seems to be staring at her with something on his mind, as she has to once again pry her hair out of the death grip of a child. This time she has to also pull her strands of hair from Stella’s fist and mouth, only barely containing her disgust at moisture in her hair. “Do you think they’re hungry?”

“Huh?” He is only half paying attention, pulled from a daydream or something as Clove brings him back to their current reality. “What did you say?” “I said do you think they’re hungry, space cadet.” Clove teases, pushing herself back off of him so she could settle the baby in her lap. “She’s trying to eat my hair.”

“..can we even feed them anything in this house? Can babies…eat? I’m sure their parents fed them, Clove. Do they even have teeth?”

“Oh they have teeth, haven’t you heard Glimmer complain about it? Besides, babe, we go to their house three days a week so I can fill their fridge with baby and Marvel safe snacks. We’ve been doing it for two months.” She points out, before she’s off the couch and heading back towards the kitchen with one of the twins still tightly situated on her hip.

Cato wastes no time following behind, albeit a little annoyed to be off the couch already after he had just started to get comfortable with her. “Are they even hungry?”

“I don’t know Cato, I just know I feel this urge to feed them, okay? Like it’s my job.” Clove waves off, flittering over to her usual side of the kitchen as Cato settles in across the island.

“Hmm..is it you who likes strawberries or are you the kiwi baby?” Clove asks the baby in her left arm, grabbing a handful of both out of the fruit bowl in the middle of the table.

“I don’t think she’ll answer you.” Cato teases, sitting his twin on the island and holding her up against his chest. “I actually don’t know when babies talk.”

“I”m surprised these ones don’t already, considering their dad never shuts up.” She comments, holding her left hand firmly down on her twin’s arms and hands, so she cannot lunge for the knife in her right hand. “They like..babble at each other though. They’re probably telling each other we’re incompetent.” As if it’s nothing, Clove easily uses the knife to start cutting perfect heart shaped slices out of a strawberry with only one hand, the other still holding Stella (she thinks) back. She lets go of her hand to give her a single sliced heart, and immediately has to grab at her little baby hand once again. “No, baby, please don’t maim yourself. You have parents who could actually try to kill me.” She tilts her head when Stella crinkles her little nose, looking at Clove in confusion before resuming her babbling at her. “...are you the kiwi baby then?”

She slides Cato the plate of strawberries for the other baby, before she resumes her one handed slicing and shaping. “How about we do Kiwi stars, since we have strawberry hearts?” Clove asks the babies, who simply continue their normal baby babbles at her and each other.

She’s distracted by her knife work, handing pieces of fruit back and forth to both of the twins, each time emphasizing the fruit and the shape before she’d hand them a new slice. She feels the sticky kiwi covered hand on her collarbone and lets out an audible groan, “That's not very nice, baby blondie.”

Clove glances up to see if Aurelia (maybe) is also covering Cato in the sugary handprints, and is instead met with Cato just staring at her with an adoring depth to his blue eyes. There's half a smile on his face, and he just looks lovestruck. Clove narrows her eyes back at him, shaking her head just a little. “What are you looking at?”

“Just you.” Cato muses, not even phased when a sticky piece of strawberry is shoved towards his mouth as he ducks out of the way. “I’m thinking, that's all. You just look really really good right now. With her.”

Clove hesitates, watching as Aurelia succeeds in shoving a now mushed strawberry into his unsuspecting mouth. Clove truly cannot help but laugh, nose scrunching up as she does so, and it must be infectious as little miss Stella laughs at Clove laughing at Cato.

He clearly decides not to push his luck with whatever he’s thinking about (and Clove, for what it’s worth can connect the dots). “Can you make some big people food, too? I don’t think I can survive on star shaped strawberries.”

“Um Educate yourself, Cato, the strawberries are hearts and the kiwis are the stars.”

“My mistake, how about some triangle shaped steak?”

Clove does make the two of them adult dinner, too. Albeit it all ends up cut into finger foods, consisting of half moon shaped sweet potato slices, perfectly square carrot chips, and yes, even triangular shaped overcooked (“Intentionally Overcooked, you can’t give a baby rare steak, Cato”) slices of steak.

Later, Clove pawns both twins off on Cato so she can rinse the traces of smushed sweet potato and carrot, along with the sweat from her much earlier run, out of her hair and off of her skin. She wins the race to the shower with the simple reminder that she fed them so she gets to have ten minutes to wash handprints off of her skin.

She comes back downstairs more than just ten minutes later, an oversized shirt she borrowed from Cato serving as a dress, wet hair wrapped in a towel atop her head and safely out of the grip of curious little babies. She’s halfway back down the staircase, when she is brought to a stop by the sound of Cato and his one sided conversation.

No, not one sided, but met with avid, nonsensical baby babbles in response.

“See, you roll the ball and it comes back and you have to get it when it comes back, you have to catch it Glimmer Two..Three..Two…Whichever Mini Glimmer.”

Clove peaks her head around the corner, to see Cato sitting less than the length of his legs away from the wall, the twins situated side by side in front of him. He’s rolling a weighted ball into the wall, letting it slowly return and land at the feet of either twin. Once the ball hits one of their feet they squeal in delight, before they both turn back to look at him sets of wide green eyes waiting for him to push it back.

“You can use your legs! Come on, kick it.” Cato tries again, this time grabbing one of their little feet and nudging at the ball, earning delighted giggles from both of them.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Clove interrupts, breaking into a bemused smile as she settles down on the floor beside them. Almost instantly his hand comes up to rest on her knee, squeezing gently before he nudges the ball away.

“This? I used to do this when Cora was little. I didn’t know how to play with her.” He explains, using his other hand to send the ball rolling back towards the baseboard again. “I still don’t know how, apparently.”

“They clearly love it.” She assures him, raising her eyebrows into a playful smile as the girls both lock in their gaze on her instead of the ball. One reaches little grabby hands towards her again, and she offers the baby her finger to hold to tie her over with Cato for just a little bit longer. “You’re good with them. Like…really really really good. You should probably do it more often.”

“I don’t think they’re going to be very athletic, which is kind of shocking considering who they came from..” Cato muses, nodding towards the baby that is so enamored with Clove. “I think they like you, Clovey.”

“They’re six months old, give them time to grow some coordination.” Her smile softens as she leans in and scoops up whoever it is, letting the baby snuggle directly into her arms. “Baby, which one of them is this?”

“I have to be honest Clove, I have no fucking idea.”

“Glimmer will be back for them soon, anyway.” Clove shrugs, taking the opportunity to lay her head on Cato’s shoulder, stifling her own yawn as she watches one of the twins do the same. “This is weirdly exhausting. Not in a bad way. Just..I’m really fucking tired.”

“It’s probably easier if there's only one.” Cato shrugs, gently pushing the ball out of reach and settling the remaining twin in his own arm. “You’re right though. I don’t know how Glimmer is literally always bouncing off of a wall with them.”

“It’s ‘cause they’re all she’s ever wanted.” Clove slurs, stifling another yawn into his shoulder, leaving her forehead pressed into him for just a minute. “It’s like she’s living a dream.”

“I mean…I get it.” He admits, keeping his eyes focused on the baby who was rubbing adamantly at her little tired eyes.

“Yeah?” Clove mumbles in response, resting more and more of her weight against Cato’s arm.

“Yeah.” He reiterates, subconsciously moving his right arm containing the baby, lulling her closer to the sleep she clearly craved. “I think we should talk about-”

Before he can finish his sentence, he feels the bulk of weight sink into his left arm. He glances over to Clove, who has fully slipped to sleep against him, as has the baby who clings to her neck.

“I guess we’ll talk about it later, huh Kiddo?” He whispers to the baby he holds, who is quickly falling asleep herself. Cato surveys between the three of them, and the tired smile he wears falls when he realizes he has more sleeping girls on his hands than he has arms.

It’s..God only knows..how long later when Clove is startled awake by a hand on her shoulder shaking her gently. “Clove..Clove, we’re back.”

She’s jolted awake, really, disoriented and confused. Somehow (Cato) she ended up in the recliner, covered in a thick furry blanket with the baby sprawled out on top of her. Her hand almost instinctively comes to the baby’s head as she’s startled awake, just naturally trying to keep her calm and sleeping in her arms. “Huh, what, what time is it?”

“It’s nine thirty one.” Comes an amused, whispering tone from her left, where Marvel’s hand still rests on her shoulder from where he just shook her awake. “The lights were all off, we knew you had to be asleep. How were they?”

“Fuck, I thought it had to be like three in the morning, what do you mean it’s only nine thirty?” Cato mumbles from across the room, where he’s fully sprawled out on the couch with the other twin asleep on top of his chest.

“We told you we’d only be a few hours..” Glimmer chimes in, the noise of sequins rustling against each other mixed with heels on hardwood announcing her entrance. “Where are my girls, I miss them!”

“Can you whisper, we just got to sleep.” Clove whines, forcing her eyes open as she feels the baby she holds beginning to move and wake at the sound of her parents. She peaks an eye open up at Marvel where he stands over her and can’t help but smirk at the ruffled hair and pink lipstick at the collar of his shirt and dipping underneath. “Looks like you had a good night.”

“Good for you, we didn’t watch them for nothing then. I’m proud of you, Marvel.” Cato mocks, though he doesn’t even bother to open his eyes to make fun of them.

Glimmer’s eye roll may as well have been audible, as she is heard tossing her shoes to the side with an audible thunk as they hit the wall. “You two are the actual worst, now give me Stella. I need her first. We’re just staying here, by the way, it’s too late to take them on the train.”

“It’s nine fucking thirty? Too late, what happened to nights starting at nine thirty” Cato questions, finally forcing himself to a half sitting position so he can fully (playfully) berate their friends.

“It’s fine, you can stay, that's..fine. Whatever.” Clove half heartedly waves a hand off in defeat. “Stella? Do you have a favorite? Is that why you need her first?”

“Don’t be silly, Clove. It’s the schedule. I feed Stella while Marvel gives Aurelia her little bath and gets her ready for bed, and then we switch before they go to sleep. It’s a little routine.” Glimmer explains, kneeling beside Clove with a tired smile. “Which one do you have?”

Cato and Clove freeze, eyes flitting towards the other just momentarily.

“Uh..yeah..I have one of them.” Clove starts, before Cato cuts her off.

“I have no idea, they’re literally identical. You didn’t color code them, how were we supposed to know?”

Marvel’s eyebrows scrunch together in real confusion, looking between their overly-tired friends. “What do you mean, they’re not identical?”

“The fuck do you mean-”

Marvel laughs, not even bothering to stay quiet for the sake of not waking the girls. It doesn’t hurt, though, because as soon as the baby in Clove’s arms hears him she is woken from her dead sleep. She lifts her little head, whipping it as fast as she can to find the source. As soon as she sees him, despite how tired she is, the widest smile breaks out on her baby face. It’s as if Clove is a stranger as soon as the baby sees her dad, when one baby hand comes up to reach for him.

He wastes absolutely no time taking his girl, and if the baby seemed to snuggle into Clove before, she practically melts against Marvel as soon as she is in his arms. If a baby could hold stress she would have just released all of it, snuggling her face into the fabric of his shirt. She absolutely clings to him, babbling softly until she’s effectively nestled into him. “Hi angel baby,” He whispers to her, kissing the top of her curl covered head as she clings to her dad. “Did you miss us too?”

“He’s kidding. But, also, I didn’t think I needed to color code them. Their earrings are their initials.” Glimmer teases, reaching down to just scoop the still sleeping Stella off of Cato. “Stella also likes to talk more, and Aurelia likes to bite on her hands more. I think she’s getting another tooth. Can’t wait for that.” She deadpans, instantly pulling her little blonde baby to eye level and kissing all over her face. Stella giggles, wrapping her little hands around the top of Glimmer’s. “God I missed you, sunshine.”

“I swear they liked us!” Clove defends, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I thought they did.” They had initialed earrings. Of course they did.

“Of course they do, we’re just their parents.” Glimmer promises, before curling up at the end of the couch nearest Clove with Stella absolutely curled up against her. “They’ve never been away from us. They probably thought we were gone forever-”

“Glimmer not this again, please don’t cry-” Marvel pleads, subconsciously swaying back and forth with Aurelia in his arms.

“I’m not crying. I’m just saying. They’ve never stayed with someone else before. Ever.”

“Not that we minded, but, wasn’t it a little freaky to leave them a District away? I thought you would have asked Cashmere, she’s right there?” Clove asks through a yawn, head resting in the palm of her hand as she rests her elbow on the armrest. “Like I said, not that we care but…”

Glimmer gives a tired smile herself, looking away from her daughter and up at Clove. She even spares a glance at Cato before letting out a little sigh. “We could have asked Cash or Gloss, sure. I dunno. They’re great. They would do everything for me. They would have said yes but…”

“We talked about it a lot,” Marvel interjects, giving a little shrug. “We barely wanted to leave them at all.”

“We just…thought they’d be better with you two. We’ve never left them, but if something had happened to us and we never came home…we knew they’d be safe here. You’d take care of them. I dunno, it just felt right. We trust you, we felt the best leaving them with you two. You aren’t like..parents. But you could be.”

“And Cato was going to force us out the door, we knew that too.”

“You’re welcome for that, you clearly benefited, Marvel.” Cato scoffs, but sits forward and digs his hands into his eyes to allow himself to stay awake. Not even ten and he’s fighting sleep, how the hell did he get here from the kid who won the Hunger Games?

“Oh. That's..oh.” Clove whispers, the gravity of their trust in her leaving her borderline speechless. They’ve seen what she was capable of and they still chose her, they still trusted her with the most important part of their lives. “..thank you…”

“At the end of the day, we love Cash and Enobaria but..when it comes to who’s going to do a better job at playing house with our babies..it’s an easy choice. It’s not even a question. You aren’t parents but you could be. Good ones, too.” Glimmer smiles, offering the words with genuine love for her friends. “And Clove knows how to cook, which is a plus too. Speaking of, honey, can you get me a snack?”

“Damn, you got Glimmer asking for food, good for you, you did something right today.” Cato practically jumps off the couch to grab Marvel by the shoulder. “I’m so proud of you. And I’d say thank you, Glimmer, but you’re right. We’ve actually never been less than perfect at anything we’ve ever done ever in our lives. We’re kind of flawless, if you didn’t know!”

“You’re the fucking worst, man.” Marvel mumbles, but does follow Cato’s guidance into the kitchen.

“He is the worst.” Glimmer tells Clove once the boys are gone, tucking her feet up into the couch with her before she shifts Stella in her arms. “Not entirely. I meant what I said. We trust you. And you would be good at it. I know you don’t want to, and I respect that. But you’d be good at it. The girls adore you.”

“...yeah, I know.” Clove admits, curling up on her side, pulling her blanket back up over her shoulder as she turns in her chair to face Glimmer. Before she thinks too long about the fluttery feeling she has in her chest, at the compliments but also just the idea of her own little blondes, she abruptly changes the conversation. “ You’re a good mom, Glimmer. The best, really. But I gotta say,I feel like it’s not the most romantic anniversary in the world, to sleep at your friends’ house with your babies.”

“Clove. I don’t know if we ever would have gotten back together if it weren’t for the girls. We would not be even having an anniversary, let alone married, if it were not for them. They are, quite literally, to thank for that.” Glimmer brushes her perfectly manicured nails over Stella’s curls, keeping her calm and comforted in the safety of her arms. “And you know, I gotta give it to them. You think you can’t love someone any more than you do, right? Like you think you’re living a dream but, Clove, it doesn’t even come close to how much I love him when I see him with the girls. There is nothing, in the entire world, better than waking up next to him with the girls between us. Nothing. It’s quite literally a dream come true. It’s better than a dream, Clove. You think you love someone..but then you make new people to love with them and it’s just…I can’t even describe it, Clove. I can’t describe it. I can only imagine that the reason I survived all of that…nightmare...was to be able to have this life, Clove. I know, it’s not my business, but I hope you get to feel it one day. There is nothing in the world like it. It is so so so worth all of it. They are worth it.”

Clove pauses for a few seconds that to her feels like hours. She could hesitate, she could start listing off all the reasons she absolutely should not (could not), she could list off the million and one unknowns that she and her routines could not account for. Maybe it’s her exhaustion, or maybe it’s the permanent look of Cato giving her that lovestruck look burned into her brain, but she doesn’t offer a refute.

“I believe you,” is all she offers instead.

#arwbfb tag #the hunger games #clato #cato and clove #arwbfb au #always remember we're burned for better tag #glimmer tag #marvel tag #glimmer and marvel tag #clato tag #the twins are the real star of this show #pfsk tag #picket fence is sharp as knives tag

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rush-the-stars · 1 year ago

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soulmate au with nai……cielo beloved…..

vic..............what if i just.....................................................,

cw: blood, gore, violence, self cutting-? the reader nicks themselves on nai's knives. yandere nai.

***

Blood, hot and thick, splatters across your face. You jolt and swipe at it quickly, try to wipe yourself clean, but smear it across your cheek further. You feel it tacky now, still too warm.

You wish it felt grosser than it does.

You wish you could make your legs move, unstick them from their place, and run. And run. And run.

You manage to stumble a little, backwards, as tendrils of glinting silver slither towards you like a snake through the blood and the gore.

Despite knowing, you aren't scared of them.

The blunt side of his knives, cool, and still hard and painful, slip around you like a constrictor. Carefully, the razors have been flipped away from you. Around your legs, your torso, up around your arms the metal winds and twists. They're as gentle as they can be, as gentle as a knife can be. They still dig into your skin, they'll still nick and give you lovecuts criss-crossed over your body in a strange pattern of hatching and dashing.

More marks from him; your soulmate. None more damning than the first, of course.

You're lifted like a doll towards him.

Nai appraises you.

You squirm in his hold. You feel a scrape of the sharp side, feel the blood well and rush to the surface, as if eager to see him. You go still. Limp, almost. (It's how he wants you, you know. It's what he'd said in the beginning; stop moving, stop squirming, and I won't hurt you.)

His eyes are cold, flints of ice.

He tilts his head fractionally. The bodies of all the people that attempted to help you lay scattered, dismembered, at his feet. Beneath you.

You cross your arms and rest them on the metal wrapped around your chest. You lay your head on them and look at him; a little guilty. Kicked puppy. A little resentful. Scolded, agitated kitten.

"Did you think you could run?" He finally asks.

You tilt your head and let it loll against your arm; exhaustion suddenly sweeps through you. Your hand swings lazily, fingertips skimming the sharp, outside edge of his knives. Even just that touch leaves blood gushing to the surface of your sensitive finger.

You let out a defeated sigh, tears blurring suddenly in your vision. You blame the sting. You blame your soulmate. You watch the blood run down the length of your finger and into your palm, pooling against the soulmate mark that you've had your whole life.

Still, you get out;

"I had to try at least once."

"You've learned your lesson, then?"

You nod, knocking a tear free to fall over the bend of your cheek.

In an instant, he's setting you back on your feet in front of him, wobbly, like a newborn fawn. Unsteady so that when he lifts you straight from the ground and cradles you to him like a child, you are almost grateful.

You go limp, just as he always wants you.

And you won't ever try to leave again.

#idek what this is #he's just on the brain lately #i called this my warmup writing #fjdksfjkds #cielo's writing #cielo writes!#cielo chats!#vic i hope you're doing well friend

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kyberrebel · 6 months ago

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Things that went through my mind during The Acolyte episode 2

This new Jedi Temple needs better security.

This OP floating Jedi dude is just kicking Mae’s ass without even doing anything. I can’t help but stan.

Off topic, but I hope we see Yaddle in this series. There’s no reason why we would, really, I just think it would be fun since she is alive during this time. Like imagine, we see a little green Jedi with big ears, unfocused in the background and we all automatically assume it’s Yoda. But then it focuses on the Jedi and BOOM, it’s Yaddle. I’d die of happiness if that happens, since she’s my favorite glup shitto character.

Yord needs to get the stick out of his ass. They have good evidence now that it’s Mae doing the killing, not Osha. So he can chill now.

Also, does Yord’s Padawan not go on every mission with him? Isn’t that standard for Masters and Padawans?

Hey, it’s Jason from The Good Place!! I forgot he was in this show! And I will proceed to only see him as Jason from The Good Place, and not whoever he is supposed to be.

IT’S CALLED A TATTOO, MASTER, YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND.

I don’t know why, but Sol and Qui-Gon have similar vibes.

Of course Osha just happens to be found next to the dead Jedi’s body.

Never mind, Yord came through!

I wonder if Mae had an influence on Osha leaving the Order is some way.

I like how Jason from TGP doesn’t actually fall for Osha pretending to be Mae. It’s such a cliche trope thing at this point for twin characters to do that. It also makes me like his character more. Too bad I can’t remember his name.

The chronologically first “I have a bad feeling about this” in Star Wars, at least on screen.

“You attack me without a weapon. Why?” Did her throwing knives not count as a weapon?

Mae’s really physical way of fighting is really cool. I think it’s inspired by martial arts more than other fighting styles in Star Wars. It also for some reason reminds me a lot like how Darth Maul fights in TPM, for some reason.

Kelnacca having an undercut is so funny to me. Like, it’s one thing for humans to have an undercut. But seeing it on someone who is completely covered in hair except for that one strip around his head looks really weird.

Him having a different voice than other Wookies is also nice to see. A lot of times, most Wookies sound like Chewbacca, with maybe a tiny difference. It just shows the effort the show creators are putting into Kelnacca’s character, making him have a deeper and raspier voice.

Already, the show is subverting my expectations. After Episode 1, I was predicting that Osha and Sol wouldn’t confront Mae until later in the season. I also was under the assumption that Mae was killing Jedi, knowing people who think it was Osha. I didn’t expect her not even to know her sister was alive.

It may be recency bias, but I am really loving the show so far, though I do like the first episode slightly more. I can’t wait to see where things go!

#star wars #the acolyte #the acolyte spoilers

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awyeahitssam · 9 months ago

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10 Characters | 10 Fandoms | 10 Tags Shorts

Thanks for the tags! @atredys @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts @alittlebitofharrypotterinmylife

Please continue on the trend, whoever would like to!

Lord Voldemort | Harry Potter | clever

It began because Tom Riddle was clever. He crafted himself, crafted Voldemort, into an infallible being cloaked in immeasurable power. Brick by brick, he built a legend around himself. Lord Voldemort was invulnerable, was untouchable, but Harry Potter is the Chosen One, and he can touch him. He has been chiselling into and peeking through the fractures of Voldemort for six years, and while Voldemort is a creature of shadow and danger and night, he is also a man. Less mortal than other men, more monstrous, but human, still. There was a trick to it, beyond just power and cruelty. Setting everyone at a distance, letting their belief and fealty exalt him, delving deeper into the Dark Arts until there could be no recognition for the man beneath the Bohemyth, the Monster, the Dark Lord. Making even the name he had crafted for himself something unspeakable, a taboo that would rain down upon you pain and agony... Tom Riddle was clever and Voldemort was cruel and they were one in the same. His mind is what makes Lord Voldemort dangerous, is what makes him legend and not flesh and blood.

Stiles Stilinski | Teen Wolf | scent marking

Mieczyslaw perked up, interested in spite of himself. “Like a cultural thing?”

“It’s like saying ‘hello,’” Peter explained, somewhat stilted. “And ‘goodbye,’ and ‘I’ll miss you’. It’s a form of comfort and affection, and occasionally protection.”

“Aloha,” Mieczyslaw muttered. Despite his snark it was obvious that he was interested. “So you just—?”

Stiles snorted, grabbing the smaller hand before it could land on his neck. “I don’t trust you at my throat, lost boy. It’s that, too.”

“So you trust each other, and you miss each other, but you don’t have sex?”

“Oh dear God,” Stiles murmured. “No, we don’t have sex. Not every touch is meant to hurt or manipulate something out of you.”

Mieczyslaw tensed, eyes cooling as his mouth pressed thin.

“Sorry,” Stiles said a moment later. “I’m not actually trying to be an asshole, even though I am being one. I’m used to making light of shit, because it happened to me too, but—it was all a while back. So, sorry. Feel free to make me regret it if I do it again.”

Mieczyslaw scoffed, looking away. “I know where the knives are kept,” he said, matter-of-fact.

Teuchi | Naruto | fidelity

“I want to take him in.”

“You cannot,” the Sandaime Hokage says. Even Teuchi knows his title, God of Shinobi.

Teuchi is a father, and a civilian, and this is not a fight that he can win. But—it is one he will fight nonetheless.

“Kill me, then,” he tells the leader of his village, “because that is the only way that you will stop me.”

Yamanaka Inoichi clears his throat from the corner of the room. Shikaku, beside him, meets Teuchi’s eyes with a half-lidded gaze. Teuchi has served these men. Has watched them dine with the Fourth Hokage. He knows that they were ANBU together, because he is civilian but he still has eyes and basic reasoning. He knows he would die if he ever told of this connection.

“You all may have forgotten what we owe Uzumaki Naruto,” he says, “but I never forget a debt. I owe Kushina-sama, his… namesake, my own life as well as my daughter’s. Moreover, Uzumaki Naruto is not a monster, he is a child. The least I owe him, the least we all owe him, is the kindness we would offer to any other children. The kindness you would expect for Konohamaru-chan, Shikamaru-chan, or Ino-chan.”

‘You have a spine of steel,’ he remembers Kushina laughing once, when he told two shinobi pulling blades to keep it on the training grounds.

He does not think that's so. He is a simple man, with a wife lost to her own madness, and an important lesson he carries forward like a shinobi does scars.

JARVIS | Iron Man | love for those who made us possible

“I would hypothesise that it is due to our connection,” said JARVIS. “You created me from 0’s and 1’s, Sir. I learned in stumbling steps under your guidance, but in time things shifted. Perhaps you were not wholly aware of it, but as I continued to develop you grew more protective. I believe, on some level, you recognized that I would be seen as a threat if others became aware of what I was. What I had become.”

The next four words, JARVIS said reverently. “You forged a soul. And when you fell, you wished to see your children one last time.” JARVIS had no face, still, but Tony had the distinct impression that he was smiling. “You drew me to you, as I, unlike the others, was untethered. The infinity stones ambient energy lingers, still, and you would not be you, Sir, if you did not harness it, with or without intention.”

Ichigo Kurosaki | Bleach | the itch

TW: suicidal thoughts

Ichigo thinks about dying casually, an in between sort of thought as he considers his homework and wonders if he should pick up an extra shift at work. He thinks about it in the lapses between more pressing matters, considering the ‘how’ and ‘when’ and ‘where’. The practicalities of it. Would it be better to break his neck or asphyxiate on his own blood? It’s his first thought when he wakes up and his last before he goes to sleep—killing himself, that is—but it’s only natural, because when he dies he’ll be whole again, and he wants that more than anything else.

Yuuri Katsuki | Yuri!!! on Ice | to self destruct

“Please don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Viktor asks, voice loud against Yuuri’s whisper.

“Like I’m the biggest disappointment you’ve ever had.”

Something in Viktor’s expression crumples, and he doesn’t deny it. Yuuri swallows, pulling on his socks, his shoes, his jacket.

“Don’t just—”

“I have to go,” Yuuri blurts. “I don’t—you don’t get it, and maybe we’re not in the right places in our lives, maybe we’ve met at the worst time, just—I can’t not skate, Viktor.”

“I’m not asking you to give up skating, but look at yourself, Yuuri! Look at your feet! You’re tearing yourself apart, like nothing else matters beyond this season, and it’s so reckless and stupid!”

Nothing does matter beyond this season, Yuuri thinks. He keeps his back firmly to Viktor, so he can’t see his tears. This is the end.

He thinks of his Amanda, who tried to help him set goals for after skating and has never quite succeeded. Thinks of Phichit, silently knowing, overwhelmingly supportive, but unable to comprehend the true extent of what Yuuri is going through. Thinks of how much he hurts, some days, about the constant ache in his left ankle and how he wants to give up and rest. How he refuses to listen to his body’s pleas, and how he won’t listen to Viktor’s, either.

He takes a breath.

“Let’s end this, Viktor.”

Connor Murphy | Dear Evan Hansen | a powerful silence

“You can’t use a note from your therapist to get out of the rest of your life,” Ms. Bernat snaps. Evan flinches, glares, and opens his mouth. When nothing comes out he closes it and crosses his arms tighter across his chest, defensive.

“Evan,” she bristles, and Evan leans over and grabs his bag, like he’s about to stand up and leave.

Connor starts to read the passage himself, focusing intently on the page in front of him and nothing else. Some of the class is muttering, and Ms. Bernat lets out a loud, telling sigh, but doesn’t bother telling him to stop.

When he’s done he calls in Alana Beck to continue, because she’s always eager for the participation bullshit, and lays his head on his desk to avoid the eyes he can feel skating off him.

When he looks up after Alana’s done he catches Evan staring at him. His school bag is still sitting in his lap, fingers twisting over the strap, and he’s frowning a bit, a little furrow of confusion between his brows. When he sees Connor catch him he flushes and jerks his gaze away, fingers twisting harder. Then, after a moment, just as Connor’s about to scoff and turn away, Evan meets his gaze again and blinks at him. Then he opens his mouth, and he doesn’t say anything, not really, but he mouths a clear, ‘thank you’.

Connor quirk a brow. Shrugs at him, and tucks his chin back down to hide the heat he can feel gathering in his face.

Evan Hansen would be a lot less distracting if he wasn’t so fucking pretty.

Clarke Griffin | The 100 | preventative measures

Clarke is four when she has her first vision, and it isn’t something scary. It’s silly and fun, and her mom smiles and teases when she shares it.

She’s had some before that point, already forgotten.

When they are fifteen she avoids Wells for a week, sure that he’s gathering the nerve to ask her on a date.

And then, when she is sixteen, her dad discovers the system failure and the future shifts.

She dreams of her father being sucked from the Ark. She dreams of a solitary existence. And she dreams of the ground.

“Don’t do anything reckless, dad,” Clarke whispers into his shoulder, arms trembling around him.

She pulls a lever and burns hundreds alive. She watches herself kill a boy who thanks her for the kindness. Her hands drip with the blood of children, and she is barely sixteen, and her dad is warm beneath her grasp but he won't be for long, not if she can't make him listen.

Goose | Captain Marvel | goose

“You’re afraid of Goose?”

“It’s a flerken,” Loki said between gritted teeth.

Tony tips his head. “You’ve got an army.”

Goose pounced onto Tony’s shoes and Loki shifted another step back. “That can eat an army.”

“Uh, you’d tell me if I wasn’t feeding you enough, right?” Goose wrapped around Tony’s leg, purring. “Alright then, good.”

Emma Swan | Once Upon a Time | a mother's love

Emma stopped. Took a breath, considered leaving, but she couldn’t let the stray comment go, not when it had hit so hard and stung so deeply.

“Also, fuck you for saying I ‘tossed’ that little boy away. You think I felt like I had any choice? I was eighteen, barely out of jail. I wouldn’t have been able to afford a warm place for him to sleep, or a crib, or a toy. We would’ve been living on the streets or out of shelters, and that’s if fucking child services didn’t snatch him away from me. I grew up in their tender care, and I wasn’t going to submit my son to group homes. I wanted that baby boy,” she was nearly whispering, now, not willing to let Henry hear, “but even then I wasn’t selfish or stupid enough to think my loving him would be enough.”

“You want to know why you have him, Regina Mills? Because I chose you. I had my pick. There were other families, more traditional, more ‘complete’. Different mothers and fathers I could’ve placed him with—but the agency showed me your file, and I thought yeah. A smart, powerful, well-off woman who just wants someone to love. It sounded like a good fit.”

“You may have chosen Henry, but I chose you for him. Because I thought you’d be a good fit. So imagine how much it feels like I fucked up when I find out he thinks his own mom is evil and doesn't love him.”

Emma swallowed heavily. “No child should ever feel like that. Especially when looking at you, it’s so fucking obvious that you care for him. So instead of taking your anger out on me, why don’t you march through your goddamn mansion, sit down with your son, and find a way to show him just how much you love him? Find a way to prove it, somehow, because until you do—until I can be sure he isn’t about to run away and do something as reckless and dangerous as following me back to Boston on a fucking Greyhound—I’m not going anywhere.”

#I'm not too comfortable tagging others #but I do appreciate the tags #<3 #my writing #Voldemort #Stiles and mini-Stiles #side character love #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: suicide #Selective mutism #Shorts

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nochd · 2 years ago

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Naturism as social justice

← Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Part 4: Disability (neurodivergence)

This is where the issue touches me personally. I am autistic, and among other things that means I have sensitivities that other people don't. I feel food moving around inside me, I need more anaesthetic than dentists expect, and I have what's called "tactile defensiveness", where light touches to my skin are irritating and uncomfortable. And that includes clothing. All clothing, with the sole exception of hats.

The problem is mild (but never zero) when it's cool; in the winter, I prefer clothes to the cold. When it gets warmer and I start sweating, the discomfort gets very bad very quickly.

This means I can't stand exercising with clothes on. I know perfectly well what not exercising does to my life expectancy and general health, but the feeling is unbearable.

How bad could it be, you ask? Imagine everything you're wearing next to the skin is made of sewn-together burlap sacks, and you're trapped in a slow-cooker.

Notwithstanding the origin of the word "gymnasium", I doubt that nudity is going to fly in any gym in town for more than about thirty seconds. Any physiotherapist would suggest swimming as a solution; trouble is, wet swimming-togs are worst of all. They cross the pain threshold. They feel like knives.

There's a Catch-22 for neurodivergent people when it comes to talking about sensitivities. If you do it often, you're just a whiner and your complaints are dismissed. If you don't do it often, well, it can't be that bad if you didn't say anything before, can it? -- and your complaints are dismissed.

The trick is to find the middle ground where your complaints are dismissed for both reasons at once.

I have exactly two options for dealing with this sensitivity, which are (1) naturism, and (2) shut up complaining about it no-one cares.

As far as what good it does me, any proposed solution which does not allow me to practise naturism amounts to "shut up complaining about it no-one cares." I'm sure people mean well when they express their sympathy, but it's exactly as much help to me as "shut up complaining about it no-one cares."

(Which doesn't mean I think any the worse of you, if that's your primary concern. "Shut up complaining about it no-one cares" is society's default response to autistic sensory issues. At least it's better than "I'm going to trigger you on purpose to teach you not to be a pussy.")

There's this one particular beach in my home town that I go to for nude walks. (There was a time when I was in a naturist walking group, but that's long past now.) It's not an official nude beach because New Zealand doesn't have any because technically there is no law specifically banning public nudity for them to be exceptions to.

What there is is a law against "offensive behaviour", and where and when nudity counts as "offensive behaviour" is complicatedly context-dependent.

(There's also a law, with more serious penalties, against "indecent exposure", but public nudity alone hasn't been the legal definition of "indecent exposure" in New Zealand for over forty years. Since 1981 it must also be "obscene", i.e. done to harass people. Surprisingly few people know that.)

There are thirty years of legal precedent saying beach nudity is not offensive behaviour -- on a beach where it's common practice or can be expected to occur.

This is one of those. Currently. Occasionally. It's had quite a few naturist visitors while I've been going there, but no regulars except me.

Most people ignore me; some are friendly; there have been a handful that were hostile. There's been one particular guy, recently, who kept hanging around where I was. I don't mean like chilling on the beach, I mean he kept kind of walking around and walking past me, making sure I knew he was there.

I came back after my beach walk to my stash of stuff to find the messages "No nudists!" and "Cover up cunt" written in the sand nearby.

(I wrote a reply saying "See you in court: Police v. Ceramalus 1991", referring to the court case that proved nudity on a beach is not an offence in New Zealand. But, well, I wasn't getting the vibe that he was threatening legal action.)

There is no other beach that is both clothing-optional by established custom and within reach of public transport from where I live. And I take care to go during school hours so I don't run into kids. And I stay out of people's way and, apart from my walk, I try and stay at the less-populated end where you get about one passer-by per hour on a weekday. And that's apparently not good enough.

Yes, I know. This world has other people in it besides me. I can't ask society to rearrange itself for my sake. I can't expect an entire culture to suddenly overturn all the associations and meanings it puts on the human body, all in a day.

Naturist organizations have to vet new people very carefully to make sure they're not going to behave inappropriately, which just goes to show society at large isn't ready to turn naturist just yet.

All of that is true and none of it is unreasonable. But the consequence of all this reasonableness is that my needs as a neurodivergent person will always come last.

#naturism #naturism as social justice #normalize nudity #a human body is a human being #autism #neurodivergence #tactile defensiveness #sensory issues #clothing aversion #ableism #violence #ableist threats #nonsexual nudity #legalize public nudity

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hekate-brimo2 · 7 months ago

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Spes Novum (Aka my Supervillain Story based on the Synoverse by @wingedcat13) Chapter Two is up on AO3 here, but I’m making sure to put it here on Tumblr as well

Several hours passed before I saw Kayla again. I had destroyed several heavy-bags in the gym, and sent more than one set of throwing knives through my target. Eventually I ended up behind my desk, keeping an eye on newsfeeds for any updates about The Patriot and American Girls’ locations. Carson sauntered into my office around nine pm, putting down a plate of food I neither asked for nor wanted.

“Cook insisted I bring you this, said you’d be hungry. I said you’d be too upset to eat.” They said, plopping into the chair across from me

“I know what you’re doing.” I answered, picking up the fork and tearing into the food out of spite

“It’s working though, isn’t it?”

“Cook knows Bangers and Mash reminds me of home.”

“Hmm.”

“You didn’t come in here just to bring me dinner, Cook would’ve done that herself.”

“She wants to talk to you. Kayla.”

I hummed in response, chewing thoughtfully on my sausage

“You don’t have to do it.” Carson murmured, knowing I’d know how they felt

“She is my guest. Thank Cook for me, I’ll finish this when I return.”

I tread through the hallways carefully, lowering the gravity beneath my feet to keep them from tapping too hard on the tile floor. I reached the infirmary quickly, it was a small room, with only three available beds, but was well stocked for all it needed to do. I looked in a nearby mirror and studied myself. I was wearing my costume: a light purple jumpsuit, tight against my skin. My arms were bare, exposing the silver fractal scars I’d received from the Space Between Space. Around my throat and ankles were silver magnetite cuffs that would cancel out my power in the event I lost consciousness, or lost control. Finally, over my mouth and extending below my neck, was a breathing mask, which automatically activated in zero-oxygen environments. I hoped I didn’t look scary showing up like this.

“Kayla.” I said in greeting to the teenager, who was sitting upright in the bed-that-was-also-a-gurney. She had a bandage extending down her left cheek, which meant Doniphon had operated already, and was satisfied with the restructuring of her bone.

“Maestrum Gravis.” She replied in kind, turning over the book she’d been reading

“Pale Blue Dot by Carl Sagan, an interesting choice. I imagine Doniphon talked you into it? He makes every new person he meets read at least the first page. I was told that you wanted to speak with me.”

“I… wanted to thank you.”

“Really? For what, young one?”

“You… you didn’t have to react the way you did. D…Doniphon says you were practically steaming when you saw my black eye, and… uh, Carson? I think was their name, said they were surprised that you didn’t kill my parents, even after I asked you not to.”

“I keep my promises. Did Doniphon mention that your cheek will scar?”

“He did, but that’s fine. Scars are cool.” Kayla said, smirking

“Indeed.” I responded, flexing my arms and making the lichtenberg figures ripple

“Um… I guess I should ask… am I your prisoner now?”

“Why would you think that? No. You were granted sanctuary, originally by my Aide de Camp, but by granting you a bed in my infirmary I continued that offer, and will continue it for as long as you wish.”

“Oh! So… what does that mean?”

“It means you are under my protection for as long as you are within my territory. Granted that territory is not large, there are larger fish in this pond than I, that Shadowmancer claims most of the Western Seaboard, but I have my humble little territory here in Humboldt Bay, and some of Northern California. The Redwoods are home to a Native Hero, the last remaining Whilkut Warrior, who calls himself Blue Lake Rider, but anything North and West of here is mine.”

“Oh… thanks. Why, uh… why did you do that for me?”

“Well… let me answer that question with a question. Why did you come here?”

“I… I needed to get away from my parents, this was… the best option I had.”

“Your best option was a Supervillain?”

Kayla was silent at that, and we sat in it for a moment.

“Your life is your own, Kayla Moore. From here on out, you know that you are welcome in my home whenever you like, if you wish to stay, then stay. I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe. Sleep on it, and tomorrow we will make plans, if that is what you wish.”

“Thank you, Maestrum.”

“While you’re here, call me Beren.”

I left then, not returning to my office, but instead to my quarters. I shed my costume and showered, leaning against the tile wall and considering the situation. There was so much to do to secure Kayla’s future, I would have to contact one of the I.L.L.E.G.A.L. Lawyers in the morning, they were the best. Emancipation papers would have to be drafted, and living arrangements made. Hell, we’d have to find the girl some clothes first.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a tank top hitting the floor. I shook myself out of my stupor just as Carson stepped into my shower.

“You’re thinking too hard.” They said, joining me under the stream of water, and snaking an arm over my shoulder.

Carson was smaller than me in a lot of ways, shorter, thinner, but somehow they managed to hold me in ways that made me feel small. We’d both transitioned upon discovering the inconsequence of the gender binary, but Carson’s transition was more emotional than physical. Mine was physical as well, which they knew perfectly, demonstrating that knowledge as their hand dipped between my legs and caressed the surgically crafted folds of my vulva. I hummed, pleased, and leaned back against Carson as they continued their ministrations, working me ever closer to an orgasm as they attempted to drive away my thoughts. Soon enough, my own wetness joined the shower’s stream, and Carson removed their thin fingers, wrapping arms around my torso. I held them there as well, as we let the water fall.

“Beren,” they called, later as we lay in bed. “What can we do for her?”

“We can protect her,” I began, voice growing hard, “We can give her time. We can present options. She can have whatever life she wishes, and we will provide it as best we can.”

“That sounds like something parents should do.”

“Then we shall be her parents, in all but name. Well, we shall be better than her parents.”

I felt Carson’s tears against my chest as they said the next four words.

“I always wanted kids.”

I woke early the next morning, extricating myself from Carson’s long limbs just as the sun peeked over the horizon, lighting Humboldt Bay on fire. The view was one of my favorites, and one of the reasons I’d bult my lair here. I watched for a moment, and then stepped into my closet to change.

I did not wear my costume to breakfast, it was a concession I’d made to Cook as soon as she’d joined my retinue. Instead, I pulled on a pair of jeans, and one of the tank tops Carson swore I looked good in. I pulled a flannel over top of it, knowing the air would be cool this early, and went to join Cook and Doniphon for breakfast. This was our ritual: Cook was awake before all of us, as she was the one to provide the food, and the coffee, we would all eat as we watched the sun rise, quiet mostly, but eventually conversation would erupt, about news, or about plans. Afterwards, Tom and I would go to the kitchen and clean our plates, and any mess Cook still had, which was always minimal, and Cook would retire to her quarters to nap. That morning we were joined by an extra face.

“Kayla, Cook, Tom. A pleasure to see you this morning.” I said politely, stepping onto the balcony we traditionally used

“Mornin’ Boss.” Tom answered, raising his coffee cup

“Good Morning, Gravis.” Cook said, cutting into her eggs

“Good Morning, Beren.” Kayla grumbled, holding her coffee with both hands.

Tom and Cook both raised an eyebrow at me, which I shrugged off. I sat down across from Kayla, and began eating my own breakfast. Cook had gone for simple, with eggs and toast, three slices of turkey bacon for me, a sausage patty for herself, and real bacon for both Kayla and Tom. Once the sun was halfway above the horizon, I met Kayla’s eyes and said “Kayla, I was considering your situation last night, and realized that you are probably wanting a new wardrobe, or at least your old clothes. If you are willing, I will happily escort you to buy some, or I will make the effort to retrieve yours, if you’ll give me your old address.”

“I… uh, I can just go get my stuff. It’s no big deal.” She answered, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of me going to her old house.

“I would rather not risk you encountering your parents again. They have harmed you once, enough that my medic had to reattach a bone to your skull.”

“No violence at my breakfast table.” Cook said, glaring at me

“Apologies, dear Cook.”

“Um… is there… I don’t really want to run into them either. There is some stuff I want to get from home though.”

“I’ll make a call, once we’re finished here, and see if there’s anyone who can distract your parents for a few hours, while you retrieve your things. How did you get from your home to here?”

“Oh! I can fly. Not sure where it comes from, neither of my parents can.”

“Powers are rarely that simple, young one. I’m sure Doniphon can tell you all about the genetic mutations that cause them, but that is for later. Once you’ve flown back, join me on the beach, there are other things we need to discuss.”

“Yes… uh, Beren?”

“Yes dear?”

“I don’t… I know you don’t… use masculine or feminine pronouns, so I don’t want to call you Sir or Ma’am, but… what do I use in place?”

“If you feel the honorific is necessary, then… Doctor or Professor would be fine, I’ve been both, though I’m sure Duke revoked my Doctorate when I was branded a Villain, and I’m certainly no longer tenured at U.C. Berkeley. I would prefer you only use Maestrum around other Supers. If none of those suit you, Mx is always acceptable.”

“Okay.”

“Very well. Tom! Shall we collect these ladies plates and wash whatever mess Cook has left us with?”

“Will do, Boss.”

#original writing #superhero #supervillain #superheroes #Spes Novum #HB’s Superpowered Universe #transgender #nonbinary #nonbinary supers #Maestrum Gravis #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr

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