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caramel1mochi · 1 year ago

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ぐちゃ ! (Splat!) [Yoru x F! Reader] [3]

Out of everyone I've written about, Yoru is hands down the HARDEST. Somehow harder than Chamber??

He's just so solitary, I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel to make them realistically interact. I'm straight up cursing myself for liking this guy HE'S SO MENTALLY TAXING.

Now that that's out of the way, we're back! Here's another 7k long post for you guys!

❤ฺ·。

Yoru x F! Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5 / Part 5 / Part 6

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Hapless doesn't even begin to describe you. With your life flipped upside down within the span of a day; you're left to rely on your best friend Tala to help you pick up the pieces and build the new one forced upon you. And this 'luck' seems to have caught the attention of one of her friends.

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

You hadn’t eaten in almost fifteen hours. And though you didn’t realise it at the time, your stomach made sure you knew it, and rudely awoke you from your slumber as a harsh reminder of your mistake. With a deep angry sigh, you laid on your back and lamented this stupid body.

First, it accepts a foreign solid object into its nervous system and allows it to make non reversible and destructible changes, enough to classify you as a threat. Now it has the gall to ask for food?

…

Maybe you weren’t all there yet.

You looked to your right to notice a fuzzy ball of blue pressed up against a dull pillow of grey, your blurry vision slowly adjusting to the strands that stuck out. Right, it was Neon. And you weren’t selfish enough to wake her up to get you food.

And so, with major reluctance, like a bear waking up from hibernation, you were forced to move and nourish yourself.

❤ฺ·。

Thankfully, the kitchen was empty.

You walked through the common room earlier. It was empty as well, but there was this odd sensation of a pair of eyes watching you. Like it was some omnipresent, supernatural being. Fused into the environment. And you made the obvious choice of getting the hell out of there.

You were already cursed, you weren’t about to tamper with the spirits and anger them.

With a deep sigh, you turned to the fridge and ignored the pretty sight in front of you. Nearly as golden as yesterday, but because the sun had only begun to rise, the hue was much calmer.

Maybe, now that you had free time, you’d finally get around to cooking yourself breakfast that wasn’t tea and whatever thing you had lying around from the night before. With only one arm to work with, it sounded like a strenuous task to take on.

You looked around, finding all kinds of food. For a moment, it baffled you. Indian food, Australian food, American, eastern asian, african, everything. Even some of the fruit and vegetables left you confused, not when you barely stepped foot outside of your own culture.

But most importantly; were you even allowed to touch this food? None of it was yours, even the raw stuff. Huh, maybe this is why your mother really didn’t want you to move out.

Speaking of your mum, you should probably get to contacting your parents.

Then, you heard someone clear their throat behind you, making you jump and look back. But relief instantly filled you at the sight of Yoru. And this, he caught on to, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh. It’s you.”

“Morning…”

He stretched his arm between you and the fridge and moved you away until you were at a comfortable distance, before finally accessing the sanctuary of food. All without touching you. For a moment, you couldn’t tell whether this was impressive or not.

Did he just hate people or you specifically?

“I’m surprised you showed up after yesterday.”

You shrunk, watching him diligently observe the shelves. Probably for his own plate of food.

“I was hoping everyone was asleep, and, uh… Guess I was wrong, huh?”

You awkwardly chuckled, but Yoru didn’t react.

“I’d bury myself if I were you,” he slammed the door of the fridge and blankly met your gaze, “no offence.”

Then, he walked off, boiling some water as he set the plate on the counter. Not a hint of amicability in any word that left his mouth. You watched him in silence for a moment, before crossing your arms and sighing.

“Thanks, that helps.”

“I’m just being honest.”

Being honest, huh? Yeah. Sounds like a thin veil to insult you.

Once he stepped away and set his food on the table, you quickly took this chance to wash your own cup, preparing to make yourself tea. You really didn’t want to talk to him (or anyone), not when he was as welcoming as a feral cat. But again, this is the same guy who helped you quit your job. Actions speak louder than words, right?

"Neon told us about you yesterday."

"She didn't say anything bad, did she? I'll kill her, if so!"

He silently approached and poured himself tea, before walking off to his table.

"You think you're cursed?"

You sighed in relief, before taking the kettle into your own hand.

"It's not obvious? It's only been two days and everything bad that could happen, happened."

"How?"

You set down your hot cup with a loud clunk, glancing at him from behind. Now, Yoru was sitting on one of the circular tables. Chopsticks and bowl of food in hand, leaning back on his chair, he didn’t share your passion for the situation whatsoever.

"You're kidding, right? Look around! I destroyed the roof in the training room in front of Harbour and that green haired one, Viper and Neon suddenly switched and hated the nectar they liked before, and you watched me get yelled at by my boss. Now, you're here!"

His eyes darted towards yours.

"What?"

"I– I mean, I wanted to be alone, but you showed up. Nothing against you!"

…

He looked away.

"Sounds tough."

Yoru turned his gaze away and lifted a piece of broccoli, daintily biting it. Seeing this, and with no other choice, you took your cup of scalding hot tea and approached his table.

"Also, they figured out what that thing is."

"What thing?"

"The nectar. Fade saw it. It's liquified fear."

You held the back of your chair, staring at him in silence.

"What?"

"Yeah. You just reminded Viper of her biggest mistake. Why do you think she looked so mad?"

With an awkward chuckle, you sat down, mortification flooding every inch of you. From his vacant expression and monotone voice, it didn’t sound like he was mocking you for your mistake, either. Just letting you know, because, why not?

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

You clutched your temple with a deep sigh, mumbling a few words in Tagalog under your breath. You just reminded Viper of her biggest mistake, he said. The same woman studying your hand and helping you out. Not only her, but also Harbour and Neon. Now it made sense why she mentioned something about an abundance of electricity, and why Harbour was so quick to leave the scene after Viper asked him to describe the sample.

Yoru simply sat in front of you, swallowing a piece of flavourful salmon before he spoke up once more.

"What're you gonna do?"

"I... I don't know. I guess I– I'll wait for Harbour until we get this under control."

"You'll wait for Harbour?"

"Yeah... Not like I have any other choice. But it's all so much to learn..."

"Tch. Like what?"

"Everything! I have to learn how to use a gun, position myself, communicate, use my bracelet, and that's not even scratching the surface! I saw what Brimstone wrote in his email earlier!"

You met his gaze angrily, but he didn’t seem bothered.

"Oh, yeah. That. If you’re so clueless, then stop just letting things happen. Say something."

He picked up a small portion of white rice and ate it, watching confusion take over you. What kind of suggestion was that? You thought.

"How?"

"Tell him you want to practise taking control of your bracelet first."

"I can't do that! How would I even tell him?"

"‘Harbour, I want to take things slow. Help me with my bracelet first, then the guns.'"

He took a few edamame beans, biting down with a shrug.

"It's not that hard."

You shook your head and crossed your arms.

He wasn’t joking, was he?

"What if he says no?"

"He won't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I know him."

"What if Viper or Brimstone say no?!"

"They don't have a say in this."

"But then I'd be delaying things!"

"Gekko's been training for a month and he's still in the same place as you."

He met your gaze and pointed at you with his chopsticks, a piece of salmon in between.

“The one with the green hair.”

Then, he took a bite. All while holding in the urge to call you spineless. Not so soon.

It took you a moment to think of anything else to say. Everything that left your mouth was shut down instantaneously, and you weren’t even given a moment to elaborate on it given how cut and dry his answers were. How would you even talk with someone like him? He practically took all of the answers and laid them out in front of you. Clear as the sun.

And you had customer service skills.

"Are you making up stuff to make it look like you're right, or are you really being truthful?"

"Are you calling me a liar, lady?"

He snapped, and you were taken aback by this sudden bout of aggression.

"Okay! Okay, I'll– I'll try it. I'll tell him. But if he says no, it's on you!"

He rolled his eyes and ate a small piece of cucumber.

"Whatever."

You stared at him for a few seconds, completely forgetting the hunger you felt. How were you meant to deal with someone like this?

In terms of conversation, Yoru was rude. Very rude. But in terms of actions, he was helping you to an exponential degree. Giving you a clear-cut answer to everything, and not giving you a chance to feed into your anxiety. As outlandish as this thought sounded, you couldn’t help but ask yourself.

Was Yoru being… nice?

"Are you usually like this?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"You're so weird. You look like you can’t stand me, but you're helping me out. Is there something going on? Did Neon tell you anything yesterday?"

"I wanted to train yesterday. But I couldn't."

He stirred his fluffy rice.

"I don't want you to ruin any other place I frequent."

"And... you're doing that by helping me?"

"Yeah."

…

Is that it? Nothing else, no hidden motives? He just didn’t want you to get in his way, and somehow went about it in the most unexpected way possible. Had you known, you would’ve expected him to cuss you out and call it a day.

And nobody has an issue with this…?

Yoru really was a walking oxymoron, wasn’t he? And you couldn't help but be even more curious about him, finally taking the cup of tea into your hand.

"Thanks, I guess."

He threw you a quick hum of acknowledgement.

❤ฺ·。

Boarding the same vehicle you first arrived in, you were taken far, far away to a remote island made up of a single valley that stretched out until the ocean halted its path. You hopped out of the vehicle into a field of grass and nervously looked around, checking for any sign of fauna. And it's not like it was difficult either. There were absolutely no mountains in sight. Aside from a few insects, naught was found.

Harbour jumped out behind you, taking a deep breath with a wide smile on his face, as if you didn't just destroy a portion of the base yesterday.

"Look at this place, it's perfect, waiting to be squashed! How's your arm, friend?"

You awkwardly smiled, meeting his gaze. He held two guns in each hand, and just this sight made you nervous for what's to come.

"The drug's wearing off..."

"Good, good, we can take it step by step, then. Let's get started with the scans Viper handed me, first. Can you hold this for me?"

And as if he was giving you a piece of candy, he held out his hand, a Ghost in his grip waiting to be grabbed by you. You cleared your throat and slowly took it with your right hand, your fingers wrapping around the grip. One wrong move, and both of you could be squashed. Damn you for wearing the bracelet on your main hand, right?

You stared at the gun while he took out a suitcase, processing the fact that it was a real weapon. Forget the bracelet, just pulling the trigger could cause injury, or death. Should you be holding something like this?

"So, uh, Harbour, I was thinking, and..."

You swallowed, meeting his gaze whilst he fumbled with the open bag, now set on the ground. He waited for you to continue, but the words just wouldn't come out.

"What is it?"

"I think we should–"

How hard was it just to tell him?!

"I think we should focus on my hand first!"

...

Harbour stood up and raised an eyebrow, papers in hand. Their contents were obscured on account of the angle he held them in.

"You've never used a gun before?"

"Uh, no?"

He shrugged, holding out his hand once more.

"That's fair. Give me that back, and we'll get to it when you're ready."

You blinked, staring at him in shock.

Wow, he listened! So, Yoru was right, huh? Maybe the people here aren't as rigid as the ones back home...

Immediately, you shook your head and handed him his gun back, pushing those thoughts out of your head. Don't think about it, else your luck will be jinxed and you'd probably squash the VLT/R by accident.

"So, what's that?"

"This, my friend, are your X-rays. Left and right arm. See this?"

He placed both papers right next to each other on the ground. With the calm winds that barely managed to sway a strand of hair on your heads, it was safe to say they wouldn't be blown away any time soon. Now, you could see clearly the difference between your left and right arm.

"These extra lines here are your brand new nerves; made and connected to the stem. Some sensory, some motor. Mostly motor. Do you know what that means?"

You stared at him with a forced smile, non-verbally telling him you hated these pauses. The suspension killed you. Literally, if you moved one finger.

"Okay, okay, it means that you'll be able to voluntarily control parts of your bracelet. Like a muscle."

You tilted your head with a more natural smile. 'Bracelet' and 'like a muscle' sounded so wrong together.

"What?"

"How do you move this arm?"

He pointed at your left arm. And you lifted your elbow in confusion, rotating your hand repeatedly.

"I, uh, I just move it, I guess?"

"Exactly, and how do you move parts of the bracelet?"

...

"Just like you would with a muscle! You just have to find out where, and the search begins here."

He pointed at your right wrist on the paper where most of the extra nerves lay. Like roots, they spread out viciously across your entire arm towards your shoulder, before the picture was cut off. You could barely understand what he meant on account of your clouded frame of mind, but it was worth a try, right?

You turned towards the empty field and held out your right hand, working to move every possible muscle.

"You have to forgive me, I'm not really a biology guy."

"Could've fooled me. What are you into, then?"

"History! Everything history. Name anything, and there's an astronomically high chance I know about it."

You winced once you moved the wrong muscle, quickly relaxing your hand once more. It felt like a finger was shoved deep between the bones of your wrist, before pulling away. Was that it?

"Fun... And what about this place? You're sure this island has no animals I'll inevitably kill?"

"Oh no, no chance. There used to be a chemical weapons plant on this island many years ago, and the fumes from that killed all of the wildlife. Nothing to worry about."

Nothing to worry about? He sounded unnaturally upbeat as he explained this, like a professor at a university who was too happy about his job. No wonder he was the coach, he was just so pleasant to be around even while discussing macabre topics.

"What country was it?"

"That I don't remember, but I know it was around when World War One took place."

Good, good. So, nothing else was dying at your hand. Fumbling around with your fingers for a few seconds as you both chatted, you didn't find any 'nerve points', so to speak. All you did was tense the muscles on your wrist, arch your fingers and loosen them.

“So, you have an artefact, I have this thing, is there anyone else like us?”

“Well, Astra is one of us, but her whole arm is made of gold. Last she told me, it had something to do with a pond, but not much else was said.”

You perked up at this, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“She has a golden arm? That sounds so much cooler.”

You took the two X-rays and set them side by side. Comparing both arms, you noted down where the prevalent nerves were and worked to gain control over them. Progress has been naught so far, so you might as well, right?

“Wait til’ you see what’s under the gold. I won't tell you, though!”

“Lame! So, anyone else?”

“Let me think… Oh, Yoru has his samurai mask that he painted over.”

He said the last part between gritted teeth. And with a giggle that interrupted him, you silenced yourself and waited for him to continue his sentence.

…

“...And?”

He shrugged, confused at your expectant look.

“I don’t know. Guy keeps to himself, I can't get more than two words out of him.”

“Oh… Wait, aren’t you the coach around here?”

Why was he so okay with one of his subordinates being so conceited, then? With you, sure. You were a newbie. But him?

“He’s like that with everyone. You should see how Brimstone gets when they talk, it’s like getting blood out of a stone!” he stifled his chuckle, “I have to step in sometimes, but it’s hilarious to watch.”

“And you guys are okay with it?”

“Ehh, well, yes. It’s not really the end of the world. Besides, he makes up for it.”

How could he possibly make up for it? Being rude is– well, it’s being rude, there’s no way to–

Then, a shadow emerged above both of you. But before it could strike, you immediately loosened the point, and it fused back into the air like nothing happened.

"Wait, wait– I think I found it!"

It felt like you could somehow, instead of moving a whole set of muscles, you could move them individually. Even the ones buried deep within, shifting towards the bracelet. You tensed one muscle once more. And there, you could see the shadow form. But when the pressure was kept steady, so was the silhouette, and it stood still like a cloud looming over both of you.

"This is amazing!"

You cried out in joy, Harbour smiling.

"Congratulations! So, think you can move that away? I'd like to live another day, please."

"Oh, right– right, yeah, sorry."

You awkwardly giggled, and worked on moving the silhouette far away to a safe distance. Harbour promptly walked to your right, his arms crossed. His sarcasm was just too much for you.

"No worries. Now, with only a few more days of practise, you'll be squashing the invaders like they're flies on command! Exciting, don’t you think?"

You shared his joy for a moment, before meeting his gaze with a certain amount of concern.

"You're joking, right?"

"...Sure. Now, back to work!"

You sighed, bringing up your hand with your fingers stretched apart.

This is gonna be a long day.

❤ฺ·。

You’d been training for a while, and now that they deemed it fit, after three days in the protocol, you were finally able to meet Neon’s friends. And by ‘they’, it was just everyone other than the administration. To them, meeting you took more priority than giving you a name, a room, and trying to understand your abilities properly.

“I can’t wait for you to meet everyone! If Raze wasn’t so tired, she’d definitely be throwing you a party right now.”

You sighed, barely able to keep your own eyelids up, let alone your entire body to walk down the never ending hallway.

“I’m not in the mood for parties, Tal– uh, Neon.”

“And that’s where you’re lucky! Congratulations! Maybe things are turning around for you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, her joy simply too contagious. Maybe they were.

“I know, you can tell how excited I am.”

You lifted your hand, nectar oozing off of it like your arm had a bath all out of its own volition. With your powers now seemingly under control, the dosage Viper gave you this time around was much less potent. And thanks to this, you were able to produce whatever cursed perfume the bracelet can make.

“Can I, uh, have some tissues?”

“Sure, here.”

“Yo, what’s that smell?”

The doorway stood merely a few metres away from you. And even at such distance, you could still hear one of the guys announce. And unfortunately for you, that voice was dreadfully familiar. You stopped, catching Neon’s attention.

“Uh oh, that sounds like…”

“Oh, that’s Gekko. He’s chill, don’t worry.”

“Gekko? The one with the green hair? He’s the one who saw me destroy the roof with Harbour!”

Neon rolled her eyes and grabbed your left wrist, pulling you towards her.

“Hoy, relax, Y/N. They’ve probably forgotten about it by now, you know how fast things happen around here?”

Not fast enough, apparently. Gekko was still in training, if Yoru was correct.

“Okay, but promise you’ll be there.”

“I’m not going anywhere! Now, let’s get you some tissues before this smell kills me.”

Judging by that sentence, the hallway probably started to stink of adobo, enough to send her into a delirious state of hunger, and… enough to catch the attention of the ones in the cafeteria, unfortunately.

You walked through the doorway, eyes rapidly darting to every table. Contrasting the empty sight you’d gotten used to, now, the cafeteria was stuffed with people split into their respective friend groups. Everyone wearing their own bright sets of colours, it was like a congregation of pretty butterflies. Even Harbour sat with others you couldn’t recognise, and…

Yoru.

Amongst all of them, he stuck out. Really stuck out.

Thank god, you thought. The mere sight of Yoru made you feel at ease, despite his incredibly unfriendly expression as he watched his friends chat. And by the looks of things, he contributed absolutely nothing to the conversation, either.

Neon wasn’t lying when she said there’s plenty of them, huh?

“Here,”

Neon called out, handing you a few tissues to wipe your hand with. But before you could thank her, you were promptly interrupted by an enthusiastic voice from the table the Japanese sat at.

“Neon, over here!”

One of the women called out, excitedly waving her hand to catch the attention of both of you. And unfortunately for you, she was one of the ones you’d never seen before. Her, and everyone who sat around her.

“That’s Raze,"

“That’s her name?”

“Trust me, Y/N, you’re the odd one out, here. Anyway, come on!”

You rolled your eyes and followed, wiping your hand in the process. And just by touching a single finger, half of the tissue had already gotten soaked with the liquid, and the smell unfortunately spread even further.

Just approaching the table, you could feel the eyes of everyone on you, a smile lifting each and every one of their lips. Despite their amiable expressions, it still made you nervous to be thrust into the spotlight so quickly. All, but the one who needn’t be named, at this point. The one with the white hair immediately perked up, excited by your very presence.

“Hey! You’re the new one, right? Where were you the whole time?!”

You smiled awkwardly and sat down right next to her, only now noticing that each of them were actually eating food. Mostly empty plates and plastic wrappings around them, of course, but it was a surprise, nonetheless.

“I was, uh, getting examined and… you know, training, and stuff.”

“Psh, I mean, we all train, but I’ve never seen someone train so hard we never see them. Not even Yoru! This must be serious, yeah?”

You raised an eyebrow, staring at her in confusion. Wasn’t a portion of the building destroyed because of you literally the day before? That wasn’t to mention the news stories that spread around after your hand was imprinted on that hill. Huh, maybe Neon was right about things going fast around here.

Pun not intended.

“Neon told us all about you, yesterday! Is it true you have a shapeshifting bracelet? Is it tech? Can I see it?!”

Another perked up, clearly excited. And despite her incredibly harsh german accent, you somehow managed to dig out the words.

It took you a moment to even comprehend what she said, before slowly lifting your right hand and revealing said bracelet. The wet tissues were held in a way that wouldn’t obscure what they were observing. Clearly, she was disappointed that it wasn’t tech and instead a plant.

But before anyone could actually make a comment, Gekko coughed and cleared his throat, covering the lower half of his face with a hand.

“Yo, seriously, anyone smell that?”

“Smell what? All I smell is Raze.”

Killjoy said, and you were immediately perplexed at what she meant.

“Tch. No wonder Gekko can’t breathe, then.”

Yoru scoffed, earning a playful eye-roll from Raze.

“Come on! My bombs don’t smell that bad. Sure, sometimes they’re suffocating, but nothing that would hurt, you know?”

“Hoy, don’t get your hopes up. It’s just the stuff from her hand. It’s like, nectar, or something.”

Neon pointed at your hand and unintentionally guided all of their eyes towards you all over again. With an awkward chuckle, you tossed the wet tissues on the table, working to shift their attention to it instead.

“The smell’s in, uh, this thing.”

Gekko grabbed one tissue and smelled it, coughing and promptly tossing it away.

“Okay– bad idea, bad idea.”

Jett took it, stuffing it into her nose and taking the biggest sniff ever. Unlike Gekko, who successfully suffocated himself, she was instead met with a heavenly aroma.

“Mmmm, it smells like a fresh spring breeze after a hard day’s work! My favourite!”

“Ugh, this feels like that mission with Viper all over again!”

You quickly nudged Neon’s, bringing yourself closer to her in order to not be heard.

“Is he okay?!”

“Yeah! He just has asthma, don’t worry about it.”

Neon looked back to her friends as they chatted, before her eyes widened in realisation.

“Uh– wait, now that I think about it, you probably shouldn’t be working with him–”

Then, a loud, familiar and enthusiastic voice interrupted the conversation; all of you looking up to see Harbour standing behind Killjoy and Raze; giving you a clear vision of him. Of course, despite everything that happened, the sight of him inspired dread more than anything else.

“Y/N, ready to get back to training?”

…

You weakly smiled, the words ‘I’m exhausted and I want to spend all day in bed, please,’ lodged in your throat.

It had been almost six hours of pure vigorous training on that island, and you’d only had a thirty minute break. But you’d just asked Harbour to take it slow, and with that entire time you could’ve spent learning how to use a gun; you instead used up all of it on learning how to use your hand. So, how could you say no?

And so, despite your heavy eye-lids and inability to hold your head up, you nodded, and pulled all of your weight to stand.

Then, another familiar voice interrupted this conversation.

“You guys trained all day. How does a break sound?”

Yoru said, twisting the spiked bracelet he wore. Eyes locked on it, he didn't acknowledge your existence.

“A break? Yeah, I could use one right now, actually. As long as Y/N’s up for it.”

Uh oh.

“Great! It sounds, uh, sounds great! I– I can do that.”

“Good, I’ll see you tonight, then. Astra! How about that one book you recommended?”

Harbour promptly walked off, a dark-skinned woman wearing purple and gold attire immediately following along. You stared at Yoru for a few seconds, but the moment you opened your mouth was also the moment he stood up and walked off, earning an angry look from Raze.

“Come on, we just sat down!”

“Bathroom. Sorry.”

With a single turn, Yoru disappeared thanks to the doorway that did him a favour and concealed all of him. And this time, you really weren't sure what to think about him. But one thing you were sure of;

with his quickness and convenient timing, Yoru absolutely didn’t leave for the bathroom.

❤ฺ·。

It had been a few days since that whole debacle took place. And in those few days, though you were training, you still spent time with Neon’s friends and even clicked with a select few of them as things settled. You had your own room, you were assigned a proper name, and your bracelet’s capabilities were narrowed down in a comprehensible list. However, despite all of this, you never thanked Yoru for what he’d done.

Whenever you’d see him, it would be like seeing a wild cicada; it would only last a few seconds before he’d walk off. Minus the noise that cicadas make, of course. Which is partly why you’re so excited to have finally caught him in the training range, alone, rapidly shooting down a bunch of bots. And with only one bullet used for each one, his aim was dangerously accurate.

Not that it concerned you, right now.

“Hey, Yoru!”

“Hey.”

He greeted back. So quietly, you nearly didn’t catch it since it was drowned out by the echoes of the bullets, combined with the bots heads’ loudly breaking with each shot. Yoru straightened his back and met your gaze, easing his grip on the Vandal. However, using its muzzle, he pointed at your bracelet.

“That hand under control?”

You eagerly nodded, and he went back to shooting, ready to disregard you.

“Great.”

“Hey, also, thanks for helping me out again, I don’t think things would’ve been as smooth if you didn’t step in.”

Just by the way he furrowed his brow, you could tell he wasn’t exactly pleased with this. The moment of silence was interrupted with a loud gunshot, another bot falling to the ground.

“Sure, whatever you say.”

He took another shot in silence, leaving you confused. And though you waited for him to bring up whatever bothered him and continue his sentence, as expected; naught was said.

“Uh… what? Did I say something wrong?”

“No. I just don’t think you took my advice.”

“Why not? I did what you told me to do, and we focused on my hand first.”

Yoru fired one final shot, another bot collapsing. Then, he took out the empty magazine and met your gaze.

“I told you not to let everyone walk all over you, A/N. I told you to speak.”

You were perplexed even further. Was he not listening to what you were saying, or just intentionally ignored it to make it look like he has a point to prove?

“I did! I told Harbour to take it slow, just like you said!”

“And you were ready to get back to training right after that.”

Almost instantly, you were left with your counter-argument lodged in your throat. As much as you wanted to defend yourself, he had a point there. You were exhausted, couldn’t even focus on a simple conversation, but you didn’t say anything. And thus, didn’t take his advice… or whatever he said. But this wasn’t an overnight change, you thought. You couldn’t just switch like that.

You crossed your arms, growing irritated.

“So? Look, you helped me, and I’m saying thanks. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Tch. Whatever.”

…

What the hell is this guy’s problem?! You clenched your fists, barely able to keep yourself from raising your voice. And with his mildly irked expression that didn’t change throughout this entire conversation; you were all the more annoyed.

“Are you in the mood to fight, or something?”

“No, but I’m not going to brownnose you like everyone else, lady. I’m telling you what nobody else can.”

Your eyes widened, and you saw red. Who does he think he is?!

“You’re not a hero for insulting me, Yoru! If you have something to say, then say it!”

You pointed at him condescendingly as you spoke, treating him the same way he treated you; less. With how vast and large the training room was, your increasingly loud voice began to echo. A massive contrast to how calm and monotone he was.

Surprisingly enough, pointing at him seemed to have evoked a reaction other than ‘mildly irritated’, and Yoru now shared your anger. You asked for the truth, and god knows you’d get it.

“Fine. Being around you pisses me off, A/N. this ‘unlucky’ gimmick you won’t shut up about is just a scapegoat.”

“What’re you trying to say?”

“For god's sake, I’m saying you’re spineless!”

He snapped, and you stared at him in shock. It took you a few seconds to even find the right words to say.

“Spineless? What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re acting like I wanted all of this to happen to me!”

“Get the hell over it. Things happen to all of us, but we're not moaning nonstop about it.”

His voice returned to its normal pitch, to your surprise. In fact, it was a bit quieter, and he spoke through gritted teeth. You hadn’t noticed that Yoru pulled out another magazine and inserted it into the Vandal, angling his body back to the bots. And with that, he took his time to aim, prepared to shoot.

“Prove me wrong. Frankly, I’m doing you a favour by telling you all of this.”

At this point, you couldn’t think properly from how much you wanted to squash him then and there. Prove him wrong, he said? Fine. Why be peaceful when he was sniffing out a fight like a starving rat in the dark?

You slammed your hand against the big red button to your right. And with a loud and prolonged ding, training was halted, and he was forced to focus all of his attention on you.

“Okay, you’ve had your piece, but it’s only fair I also have mine, right?”

Yoru gently set his Vandal down on the counter in front of you and begrudgingly met your gaze, crossing his arms. He wasn’t amused.

“I don’t care how high and mighty you think you are, but I’m not gonna let a corny egomaniac like you talk to me like that!” You pointed at his chest as you spoke. But gradually, with each word, you resorted to poking him in a patronising manner. “Just because you stand around all mysteriously and stay quiet all the time doesn’t mean you’re better than me, you stupid son of a b–”

A red ball immediately shot out of your bracelet, swiftly dodged by Yoru.

And with a loud splat, it slammed against the wall, slowly sliding towards the ground as clear fluids seeped out of it like an incredibly wet towel. You both stared at it for a few seconds, sharing each others’ astonishment.

But it wasn’t until he met your gaze, donning an incredibly smug expression he absolutely did not try to hide. Without words, you knew he was mocking you.

“Bravo. Or whatever Chamber says.”

He placed both hands in his pockets and walked off behind you towards the doorway, leaving you in your own little bubble of terror to process. That little bomb you shot out saved you from having to crawl to Sage with a broken finger, he thought. That’s for sure. But for once, he’d keep his mouth shut and say something more appropriate.

“If you’re smart, you’d think about what I said.”

His footsteps faded away with each passing second you spent scrutinising the ‘bomb’.

Slowly, you walked towards it, taking in its appearance. And it didn’t look like a traditional bomb, even by the standards of your alien bracelet. Was it even a bomb?

It lay in a pile of clear liquid produced by it. And if your assumptions were correct, it was the same nectar that would emit scent. Like a rat king, each green section of this unfamiliar plant connected at the centre and formed a demented yet pretty circle of red and green, nectar oozing off of each tentacle.

What the hell kind of demonic flower is this…?

However, even though you were observing something you’d never seen in your life produced by you, you still couldn’t help but think about that a-hole. Psh. Not unlucky, he said. Just spineless. You asked for your life to be completely lost by accepting the gift from Manuel, right?

You sighed, furious. Whatever. The important thing is; you just discovered something new. And you needed to find out where the trigger was to shoot out those… er, bomb things.

You observed the slew of plants for the next few minutes, probably hours, all of your attention completely locked on it. But you still didn’t touch it out of fear. So much so, you didn’t notice that there was a figure staring at you from behind as it stood next to the doorway in silence.

Until he cleared his throat.

You jumped and looked back, but the apology got stuck in your throat once you saw an ominous figure enveloped in darkness, a purple hood concealing the person’s pitch black features. Of course, that wasn’t to mention the three cyan slits where its face should be, facing you like a predator in a dark, dark forest.

“A/N, right?”

…

“I’m Omen.”

It clicked.

He’s Omen?! You’ve heard his name dropped a few times, even saw it written on the scoreboard while training, but he– You immediately cleared your throat, standing up properly and awkwardly positioning yourself to cover the plant.

“Omen! I heard about you. You’re…” you looked him up and down, nervously smiling, “you look, uh, unique…?”

“I get that a lot.”

You noticed the slits in his face expand horizontally. Subtle, but in the darkness, it was hard to not notice. Was that supposed to be his way of smiling…?

“I heard yelling in here from the other room. Are you okay?”

Ugh.

You crossed your arms, frustrated all over again.

“You were in the common room?”

“Of course, by the fireplace. I always sit there.”

…

“Oh, really? Sorry…”

You immediately felt guilty at the fact you’d bothered him enough to have forced him up to check on you. And with how quiet that area was at this time of day, it must’ve been extra irritating to listen to.

He stepped out of the shadows and moved towards you; a black vapour emitted from his hood before disappearing into the air. And though this was terrifying since it was a literal ghost walking towards you, the way he moved somehow looked… zen. Each step gentle, letting out as little noise as possible.

He had the same aura as Sage, but stronger. Tranquil and peaceful. The exact opposite as to how you felt currently.

Then, he stopped next to you, allowing the light above to shine upon whatever features there were. And still, you couldn’t really see what he was really made of, outside of the clothes, armour and bandages that covered him.

He pointed to what you were supposed to be hiding.

“What’s this?”

Your eyes widened, flushing.

“That’s– that’s uh, you know, it’s a funny story, actually…”

“Oh, it’s new?”

He knelt down and poked the plant, immediately making you panic.

“Wait, uh, Omen, I don’t think you should–”

The red tentacles stuck on the stem promptly wrapped around his finger, holding onto it for dear life. Effectively, his finger was stuck, and the nectar spread on it made it much easier to trap him.

Uh oh.

“Hm…”

Omen tried to pull away, but even you could tell he struggled. Somehow, now, the main stem of it merged itself onto the metal ground as if it sprouted from it moments prior. And with this sturdy support; it successfully kept the wraith in place.

“It has a death grip. It could trap whoever steps in it.”

And just like that, the black mist that formed his finger disintegrated into nothing, allowing him to easily escape its grasp. Within the next second, he gathered a small amount of his shadows to ‘regrow’ the lost limb, standing up and meeting your gaze.

Right, you forgot that you were talking to a GHOST. Normal stuff, right? How silly of you to forget.

“Now we figured out what kind of plant your bracelet is made of.”

You perked up at this.

“Really?”

“This is sundew. Carnivorous, last I heard. You should tell Viper about this.”

Ugh, Viper? Right now? The thought of asking Viper about this absolutely left your mind the moment it entered. You just weren’t in the mood to take up her time with something unimportant like this. Who knows, she could be–

Wait, but doesn’t that mean Yoru was right?

You immediately shook your head. Whatever, that jerk has no place in your mind. Or anywhere near you, for that matter.

“I– I think I'll ask her about it later. She has a mission going on and stuff, I don’t want to bother her.”

He stared at you. And with only the slits to go off of, you had no idea what was going through his mind. Then, he tilted his head.

“Are you certain? This seems… important. Does she make you uncomfortable?”

You smiled and waved him off, slightly blushing.

“Omen! She’s the last person who would make me uncomfortable. I already bothered you enough with all the yelling, I promise I’ll deal with it on my own, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

He stared at you for a few seconds, before nodding. Though, with the awkward motion of it, he seemed incredibly unconvinced.

“If you say so. But, just to make sure, does this have to do with Yoru?”

…

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve seen you talk to him for a few mornings when you first arrived here. You two seem to click together.”

That was him?!

“Yeah, click together, sure…”

Should you tell Omen about the argument? But it would be weird, wouldn’t it? It would be awkward to admit you got in an argument on your first week… Especially with Yoru. And everyone here seems to make excuses for how crass he was, for some reason. Why would anyone tolerate this type of behaviour? Especially Viper.

You sighed, awkwardly scratching at your bracelet.

“I’ll– I’ll try to get this under control, probably with Harbour. Thanks for the talk, and stuff. See you later!”

You called out, immediately marching towards the exit and disappearing before another word could be exchanged. Omen was left alone in the training range, and god knows you felt bad.

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african-grey-parrot-breeders · 1 year ago

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spitdrunken · 2 years ago

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yandere!mark beaks x reader hcs

notes: stalking, possessive behaviour, implied kidnapping

If there is anything Mark picked up from among the rubble of his parents’ failed marriage, it is that he would like to do it all better. Not only to rub it in his mom’s face after years of being told he’d have to change (though he’ll have to record the moment he breaks it to her), but to prove once and for all that he’s not like her. And not like his dad, either. He’ll be loving, or whatever!! A good partner. …Sure, he’s not thought much about the details yet, but it’s best if that kinda stuff comes naturally, right?

Though the idea sticks in the back of his mind, Mark doesn’t try to find anyone he’s compatible with. He doesn’t use any dating apps or goes on dates at all, for that matter, and is famously bad at picking up on flirting. People have certainly tried. No one has caught his eye, and so he doesn’t care all that much. He fully expects life to throw the perfect person, the one who will unconditionally love him, right at his feet– No effort involved. Easy peasy. As an African Grey Parrot, the idea of bonding intensely to one person is instinctively already appealing to him, only bolstered by his personal opinions. He can’t just go around having failed relationships with people, it needs to be a one hit K.O. Otherwise, the point he’s making wouldn’t count.

His feelings for you hit him like a flash of lightning. It’s love at first sight, he believes, and he’s immediately all over you, taking so many selfies that the shutter makes a continuous noise. Your first conversation is likely a rushed one with little substance, Mark feeling so euphoric in that moment that he isn’t really listening to what you’re saying. But he has your face and your first name, which is all he needs.

He spends hours finding and sifting through all your social media, including accounts you haven’t used in years. Every picture he finds of you is saved instantly, and he jots down the names of everyone he sees you interacting with frequently. Most importantly, he looks at your interests, likes and dislikes, and what kind of person you present yourself as online. He’s spent enough time online to know that people often either idealised self, in one way or another, and he’s sure he could get you whatever you want.

He could figure out all of these things through actually talking to you, of course, but that’d take far, far too long. That’s for commoners. He’s simply making the way to your heart easier and more enjoyable for the both of you! Efficiency is how he got his success, that’s all there is to it. Mark’s attention span makes it so that he can’t spend long focusing on most tasks, but he physically can’t get bored of finding out more about you.

Once he believes he knows what kind of person you are, the texts and calls begin. They’re constant. In between listening to music and making posts, he’s sending you personal updates on his every thought and conversation. He’ll call you in the middle of conversations or meetings when he’s not interested in whatever the other person is saying, and talk and talk and talk. Whether you pick up or not. Your voicemail box fills up very quickly. No matter how many times you change your number, he’ll figure it out again. Whenever you block him, he simply pulls out a new phone. You can’t block his account on Waddle, and his face is often plastered all over your feed with how often he posts.

You’re getting a copy of each and every new piece of Waddle tech, personally customised to your taste as well! It’s better to toss them in the corner or simply get a burner phone, as the vast majority is equipped with both tracking software, plus a constant livestream to Mark’s phone. Not to mention, a phone through which you can only call him is not the most convenient thing in the world. You get far more gifts from him, though. He wants to indulge in every sickeningly sweet couple trend (whether you’re dating or not), and you get heaps of matching clothes. Somehow, everything you’ve looked up to purchase ends up at your home the next day as well.

He gets jealous incredibly easily, and his reactions are always overblown. You like one of your friends’ posts, but not his, even though it’s been up for longer? That’s enough to set him off and prompt even more calls. When you’re spotted hanging out with anyone else, it’s even worse. Mark doesn’t like getting anywhere near physical fights, so he’ll simply start online smear campaigns against whoever you’re hanging out with. He either digs up old information on them, or simply fabricates whatever he wants to make sure their reputation is entirely ruined. If that doesn’t stop you from spending time with them, well… He has enough money to make someone permanently disappear.

If you notice any tension between him and your friends and try to reconcile instead of barring either of them from your lifes, good luck. Mark will be purposefully obnoxious, only responding when you speak to him and constantly blasting music from his phone. He’ll call you out online for ‘forcing him to spend time with someone who he hates’, and tags you a million times. His only intention with this is to make you feel guilty. Once he takes note of some of his fans sending you terrible messages, their accounts will be suspended and their IPs banned. It’s only a rightful suspension for harassment. But he only does this after first ratioing them.

Mark simply can’t fathom the idea that you wouldn’t want to be together with him. He’s clearly the best person you know, right? And he’s done so much for you. He thinks just giving you some fun tours, forcefully inserting himself into your daily life and a constant barrage of gifts is enough for you to absolutely adore him. Your personal feelings on this are simply not taken into the equation. As such, anything other than outright telling him you want nothing to do with him flies right over his head. Even then, he believes you’ll come around with some time and extra attention.

If you continue to deny him directly enough for him to understand, he’ll get increasingly anxious and desperate. It starts off with just fishing for more compliments in conversation than usual, and noticeably puffing up his feathers when you eventually relent to his bombarding. If things get bad enough however, he’ll actively start plucking at and pulling out some of his feathers while thinking the situation over. Your relationship has become a very big deal to him, and he might have already told his entire family that you’re getting married soon.

Mark is far from impossible to manipulate. When it’s coming from you, at least. A constant drip of attention and praise is, generally, enough to keep him placated. (That’s all he really wanted, in the end. Someone who looked at him and wouldn’t want to change him, someone who didn’t ridicule him or criticised him but loved him no matter what.) He yearns for your attention enough that he doesn’t really think about the possibility of it being fake. It’s a delicate balancing act though and, no matter how hard you try, the ending will remain the same: Though at a private wedding you are granted his last name, your whole identity will forever be wiped off of any remaining records.

#ducktales x reader #mark beaks x reader #cha.mark

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watermelonlipstick · 4 years ago

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Dreams, Chapter 16

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 16

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1754

Summary: Some of Sam’s efforts to ‘nest’ in their new life together reveal new possibilities.

Warnings: angst, FLUFF, swearing, s l o w b u r n

Water laps at the weather-beaten wood of the dock underneath you slowly and the rhythm feels like hypnosis with the sun beating down a blanket. You sense Dean at your side without opening your eyes.

“So…was he any good?”

You can’t help but laugh, hearing the echo go out over the small lake, and get up to your elbows. It’s bright enough that you have to squint over at Dean where he lays next to a couple fishing poles and a cooler, t shirt hitched up to show a sliver of his stomach with his arms behind his head. His smile is devilish, made even more smug with eyes closed against the sun so his lashes cast an inch-long shadow on the dusting of freckles across his cheeks. “You can’t ask that!” you giggle.

His lips flatten into a knowing line. “So that’s a no?”

“Jesus Christ, of course it’s not a n—you know what, I’m not talking to you about this,” you smile, laying back down.

“Ooh, so it’s a yes,” he teases as he turns on his side to face you. “Go Sammy. That mean you two are, like, going steady now?”

You let your head loll over to him and roll your eyes. “Are you done?”

“Not yet. Is he going to let you wear his letterman jacket? Take you to junior prom?”

“I’m giving you ten more seconds.”

Dean laughs, free and easy. “Fine, okay, I’m done. Wait—did he wrap it?”

“DEAN!” you yell, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Okay, alright, okay.” He’s still chuckling when you open your eyes to look over at him and reaches over to slip a piece of hair behind your ear. “You, ah, you seem happy.”

You search his eyes for any hidden anger and find only the softness of calm affection with a pinch of solemnity. Where his hand lingers in your hair you turn into it, pressing your lips to Dean’s palm. “I am.”

Dean smiles, straight teeth a perfect row of pearls so white you think for a second they might ‘ding’ with sparkle like a cartoon, and he looks relaxed enough as he puts his hands back behind his head that it calls up images of a kitten falling asleep in a sunny spot like this even as he keeps his eyes on you. “Took you guys long enough.”

“And you’re still okay with this?”

“Yeah, hell yeah. That’s the best I could ever ask for, you two happy. So, what do you say? Want to see if we can catch some fish?”

Spring was a blessing; clean greenness breaking through the grey and white purifying the air and breathing new life into you, Sam, and the community you’d come to be a part of. The cabin was that much nicer with the new hours of sunlight pouring through the windows and all the upgrades you had put into it, to the point that you began to feel truly comfortable there. You even invited the Kaisers over for dinner a few times, feeling more like equal partners in your burgeoning friendship with them.

You started to feel stable enough to get things; picked up a bookshelf at the combination flea/farmer’s market that happened in the K-12 school’s field every Saturday morning and got higher quality spatulas to cook with, the kinds of nonessential stuff you never would’ve bought before knowing you were going to stay in one place long enough to get good use out of them. Sam, in turn, kept building: changing the locks to sturdier ones and erecting a shed big enough to hold a lawn mower.

You’d been cooking on an early Sunday afternoon when Sam came home and crossed the cabin in a few strides, giving you a kiss on the cheek before setting a thick paper bag down on the kitchen counter. “Smells great, what’re you making?”

“Ratatouille!” you buzzed, placing a slice of eggplant carefully into its slot. “I’ve never had it, but I’ve always thought it looks so pretty. Hopefully it’s good. Where were you?”

“Hardware store. I thought maybe I could build a greenhouse; see if we could grow anything. Might be enough to work against the cold.”

You raised your eyebrows in appreciative surprise. “Look at you! What’re you thinking? Poppies? Platinum OG? Purple Haze?”

Setting a box of screws down, Sam rolled his eyes through a smile. “My plan was more along the lines of tomatoes or something, but I’ll, uh, take those suggestions under advisement.” You had a sudden urge to twist a gentle finger into the dimple that stayed on his cheek as he unloaded the rest of his supplies but didn’t want to embarrass him, instead sweeping some garlic skins into your hand to throw into the small bucket Sam kept under the sink to collect scraps for the compost pile. When the bag was empty he refolded it and took off his jacket, passing by you to put it on its hook by the door. “Want any help?” he asked, sounding about as breezy as you’d ever heard him.

“It just has to bake for about an hour. Does a late lunch work with your construction schedule?”

Sam leaned over to slip a hand around your waist and kissed the top of your head before grabbing an armful of stuff to take outside. “Definitely. Just yell when you’re ready for me.”

You giggled and waggled your eyebrows suggestively. “I’m always ready for you.”

He tried his best not to blush but bit his lip in spite of himself, looking up at you with a bashful twinkle in his eye. “I walked into that one, didn’t I?”

In response you held up a spare slice of zucchini that Sam readily accepted, opening his mouth like an obedient puppy and chewing as he went out the back door.

You loved watching Sam work on his greenhouse in the weeks that followed, getting so excited about the tiny shoots sprouting up from the soil that he sometimes woke up early to check on them before starting his day. After a few weeks he woke you up one morning with a cup of coffee, bare-chested under slightly sleep-tangled hair and the hems of his flannel pants sloppily half inside his boots. “I wanna show you something,” he said, throat still gravelly. You accepted the mug and got out of bed, following him drowsily and jamming your feet inside your shoes at the door, too tired to worry about the laces.

He led you into the greenhouse with its clear plastic walls and pointed down at a petite bud on top of a green stalk. It had the telltale waviness of a basil leaf, and when you bent down to look closer at it the plant already smelled herbaceous. “It’s so cute!” you hummed. Sam practically glowed with satisfaction, an unbridled smile the perfect accessory to the broad span of his chest where it was backlit by the fuzzy light through the greenhouse walls. You straightened and rubbed his back in congratulations, staring down at the plant together with your coffees like parents on Christmas morning. Tucked in the corner of the greenhouse behind the basil, a scattering of bitty white flowers caught your eye against the burnt umber soil.

“Wait, you already have stuff flowering in here? What’s that?” you asked, tiptoeing around the wooden stakes in the soil to get closer.

“Oh—I, uh—” he stammered behind you.

At arm’s length the flowers looked vaguely familiar and you stopped short. “Is that—?” You turned back to Sam, who seemed not to be able to come up with anything to say, his face the kind of blank surprise that indicated he didn’t know whether you were about to be upset. “Really? Where’d you even…how did you get some?”

He tucked his hair behind his ears to stall for even a half second. “I—well, I found a guy who got me—got us—some.”

“You still have an African dream root hookup?”

Sam’s lips pressed into a well-practiced silent ‘I guess?’ and he reached back to ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck, the movement stretching his side distractingly enough that if you hadn’t been so startled by the discovery of a plot of dream root literally in your own backyard you might’ve forgotten what you were talking about altogether.

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to explain.

“I made some calls, found someone in Milwaukee who got his hands on some and he mailed it here. I didn’t want to, uh, tell you in case I couldn’t get it to grow.”

All kinds of possibilities and frustrations raced through your head. “So you’ve had this for weeks? That’s why you built the greenhouse?” Sam didn’t answer fast enough. “Never mind, I don’t care,” you found yourself saying, and surprisingly, actually meaning. You took a deep breath to stop the words from jumbling together. “Do you think it’ll work?” you breathed, knowing he would understand the real question: would we be able to see Dean together?

“Only one way to find out.”

For whatever reason you’d gotten freshly showered, made up, and dressed before brewing the tea with Sam on your next day off of work. It felt like there should be some level of pomp and circumstance about it, this giant undertaking that might be able to change your whole life again, even knowing that your prep wouldn’t translate into a dream. You were giddy with anxiety and almost wished you could reasonably put it off, the idea of this new possibility being yet another dead end making you nauseous.

“Your place or mine?” you asked, trying to put a little sheen of humor on your nerves.

Sam chuckled but you could tell he was nervous too, rubbing his palms dry on the knees of his jeans over and over again. “You haven’t done it before, right?”

You shook your head. “Is there a learning curve or something?”

“Honestly it’s been long enough that I don’t really remember. Hold on—hold still.” He reached out and very gingerly swept a finger across your cheekbone, drawing back to show you an eyelash stuck to the whorl of its pad.

You straightened where you sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s as good a sign as any. Cheers, I guess.” Sam dropped the tiny hair into his mug and touched the ceramic to yours, his eyes hopeful and reassuring as you took tandem sips.

And then you were off.

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 17

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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ruindunburnit · 3 years ago

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Hey, Casts, can I ask you a question?

What the fuck was the "Burning Times" supposed to be, exactly? The clues we have from the books so far is that this phrase is YA Euphemism (TM) for an era of heightened persecution against vampyres, which we know from our information about Shekinah that it happened somewhere around the 17th century (an age of huge upheaval in Western history, let alone everywhere else). Okay, I get that part. Going by the words used, it sounds like it was pretty bad, close to apocalyptic for the vampyre people, right? And yet we're supposed to assume it had no impact on the cultural teachings, practices or observances of a people famed for living longer than anyone else? I mean, if I was thinking about it, I would think it was a near-mass culling (and I use this word from the humans' point of view) of vampyres in the New World, which would have prompted further conflicts in other parts of the world. Pretty devastating, right?

(I'm assuming this was in the Americas for two reasons: 1, because the 17th century was majorly significant in North America for the landing at Plymouth Rock and the beginnings of colonialism; the overthrow of Cromwell in the latter half, which led to Puritans leaving England in droves because they were no longer being allowed to harass people who didn't believe as they did, which led to the establishment of Puritanism in North America and the Christian tradition that the later WASPs would come to preserve; the start of the devastating genocide of Native Americans and First Nation peoples in North America; and of course the establishment of the North Atlantic Slave Trade and chattel slavery of Africans in 1619); and 2, because the Casts are majorly, supremely American-focussed and this is exactly the kind of narrative choice they would make).

Now, why do I infer this? Because in book 4, Zoey, who has been aware of vampyres her whole life and exposed to even more of them (including various unnamed visitors to the House), meets the High Priestess of all Vampyres, Shekinah, and notes that she has never met a vampyre as old as her -- a vampyre who was born barely a century after the Burning Times and is therefore around 400 years old.

Now, we don't know how old vampyres live to be, but if Shekinah only looks to be in her forties for being 400 or so, we have to conclude that 4 centuries (or even 5 -- Thanatos is greying and said to be more than 400 years old) isn't the ceiling.

In other words, is it just me, or was the Burning Times that occurred about 500 years ago basically an attempted genocide that killed the vast majority of vampyres, resulting in a modern world where all the vampyres you encounter were either taught by a vampyre who survived the Burning Times, or taught by a vampyre who was taught by a survivor of the Burning Times?

How does that not have an impact on the type of vampyres they become? How are there not memorials about this? Do vampyres not know how old their people grow to be before they hit natural decline and death? How are there not older vampyres reaching more advanced ages, like Shekinah and Thanatos, who don't get anxious wondering if they're nearing the end of their life span or if they still have a few centuries left to unleash their potential?

I really want to hear what others in the HON fandom think about this.

#House of Night #Theories and Headcanons #Burning Times #vampyres #I have Thoughts and I must share #i am speaking very generally because I am not a history buff but I do try to invoke nuance #HON fandom

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louisepryor · 3 years ago

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African Grey Parrot For Sale UK

african grey for sale (Psittacus erithacus); two subspecies Congo: larger body, light-grey coloration, all-black beak, and bright red tail feathers Timneh: smaller body, darker-grey coloration, flesh-colored top half of beak, and dark maroon tail feathers Weight: 330-500 gm Young birds have dark grey irises that turn pale yellow at 1 year of age Sexual maturity: 4-6 years Avg. life span: 25-30 years Maximum recorded life span: 50+ years

Enclosures should be as large as possible, such that the bird is able to fully extend it’s wings and flap without touching the cage walls Cage should be clean, secure, safe and constructed of durable, non-toxic materials Perches should be of variable widths, heights, and textures. Also provide a concrete perch to help to maintain the toenails. Avoid placing perches directly over food or water to prevent contamination Access to natural light is preferred, and supplemental UV light may be recommended to treat or prevent feather picking or hypocalcemia. Avoid drafty areas. Parrots should stay in their cage or a “bird safe” room when they are not under direct supervision. Birds with unrestricted access to the home are at risk for accidents such as toxin ingestion, electrocution, pet attacks, and drowning. Preventive Care.

Physical examinations every 6-12 months Consult a veterinarian with experience in avian medicine if you have any questions or concerns about your bird’s health. Annual fecal examination for parasites, yeast, and bacteria Vaccination for Polyomavirus, as directed by your veterinarian Routine blood testing Wing, nail trimming as needed

african grey parrots for sale UK Common Medical Disorders

Behavioral problems (e.g. feather picking, fearfulness, aggression) Respiratory diseases Hypocalcemia syndrome Circovirus (PBFD virus) Nasal blockages (bacterial, fungal, secondary to malnutrition) Proventricular dilatation disease (PDD)

#african grey for sale #african grey parrot for sale #african grey parrots for sale

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juliatozier · 3 years ago

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African Grey Parrot For Sale UK

african grey parrots for sale UK Common Medical Disorders

#african grey for sale #african grey parrot for sale #african grey parrots for sale

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tiktokparrot · 2 years ago

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agenzproject · 3 years ago

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Love above all

It’s been years. Years since I last felt the comfort in her texts.

I thought I could move on. How foolish I was. I find myself chuckling as I recall old me bravely telling her goodbye.

I stare out the window of the car as the quiet uber driver takes me to the hotel I will be staying in. London is exactly as I expected it to be. Gloomy, Grey and rainy.

Staring at the raindrops falling on the window, my mind starts chasing a train of thought. If there’s anything that movies have taught me, it’s that the heart must always be followed. And my heart, it yearns for her.

I haven’t heard from her since I turned sixteen, which was six years ago. I wonder if she still remembers me. I am sure she does not. Yet, I must satisfy this desire within the muscle that dominates my nerves.

We met through text, on a BTS fan account.

I didn’t even know her real name yet, ‘lover’ was enough to know her. We never shared pictures, yet I saw her in my dreams. I had never heard her voice yet; her words were enough to soothe me. I didn’t even know if she was a girl, yet I imagined being with her forever. I didn’t even know if she was real, yet I led myself to find comfort in my moments shared with her.

Was I chasing a dream, or was I going to reunite with the love of my life?

The sudden halt of the uber pulls me out of my thoughts and I look over to see that we have parked in front of the hotel I have a room reserved in.

I smile and thank the driver, to which he responds with an earnest nod. He is a nice man. As I step out, he calls out to me.

“You sure you don’t need an umbrella?”

I look up to see the sky painted Grey, my favorite colour. A smile takes its place on my face and I shake my head. “No, sir, I don’t think that will be necessary. Thank you for offering.”

He nods once again and waits for me to reach the Valet standing at the front door before he drives away.

The valet, a young man in his twenties with blonde hair and brown eyes, bends down in a curt bow upon my arrival and I nod at him.

As I’m about to enter through the sliding doors, I hear yelling and turn to see a man, who I assume is in his thirties, shouting at a girl who is no less than ten for running out onto the road and playing in the rain with her favourite clothes on.

The exchange warms my heart as I watch the girl nod and the father then lead her over to another building, soft yet angry as he does so. It reminds me of my own father. A strong-willed man with a firm hand on things. And it also reminds me of why I have to be in London like this in the first place.

I sigh at the thought, recalling all those nights he yelled at me.

I walk over to the receptionist and smile at the young-looking woman. She offers me a well-practiced smile in return. “How may I help you, miss?”

“I made a reservation under the name Aqsa Malik.” I tell her.

She nods and after seeing proof of my identity, hands me the key to my room on the second floor.

I leave for the elevator after thanking her but before I press the button, I notice two young ladies sitting in the lounge, close to each other. They clearly aren’t English and judging by the curly hair and Arabic written on the bags, I would assume they are from North Africa.

I feel a smile tugging at my lips as I press the elevator button after noticing the two marital silver bands on their ring fingers.

Inside the elevator, I inhale and exhale deeply, happy for those two women, who seemed only a tad bit older than me.

It is a good time to be homosexual. I hope that this works out for me too. I hope that the girl I came to see resonates with me. I hope she agrees that now is the right time. Because six years ago, if you were born a Muslim female, being lesbian always ended in tragedy.

I was hoping this would be an exception as I entered my three-star hotel room, heading straight for the bed, ready for some rest.

Before I slip into my bed-sheets for some sleep, I play a few songs that remind me of her.

Blue and Grey by V is what encouraged me to confess to her.

Rewrite the Stars from the musical, The Greatest Showman, was the song we listened to think of each other.

Talking to the Moon by Bruno Mars was what made me cry every night after we cut communication.

These songs lull me into a peaceful sleep as the soft rain keeps patting my window, giving the room a sense of coolness.

He yelled at me. He told me to forget her.

I wished I had just turned the tab off when my father got home, pretending as if nothing had ever happened. But I didn’t, and he ended up reading all of my texts with her, with a long lecture following afterwards.

Being a Muslim with an ex-girlfriend isn’t easy, especially when you’re just fifteen.

“You’re too young to even think about these things!” He yelled. “How can you determine your sexuality at just fifteen! Straight is the natural orientation of a person, drop this lesbian bullshit!”

I hadn’t cried. I didn’t say anything in response. It would have been of no use. Rewa had already broken up with me, albeit she had said she would still like for us to be friends.

I had apologized to my father a few days later and snuck online through another device, from where I was caught later on as well, all of this happening in a span of just two months.

Three months later, I had a friend contact Rewa’s social media and tell her I’m okay.

We both finally had the chance to talk again over Wattpad.

I smiled, satisfied as I texted her a detailed message on how I was planning to meet her, asking her as much details as the online relationship would allow me to.

I promised her that till the day we met, I would sing Blue and Grey every night the moon was visible in the sky. And I did just that.

But then a text appeared on my screen once she had received the message.

‘Aqsa, I think we should break up.’

Confusion filled my insides. Weren’t we already broken up? If she didn’t want to be in a relationship with me, why would she lead me on and sweet talk me like that so much?

I was furious. For a few moments, I had no idea what to say to her.

Then, I did.

‘Wait, aren’t we already broken up?

Did you seriously forget that you broke up with me?

Did you really sweet talk me all that much just to make me go through the worst moment of my life a second time?

Now I know what my dad feels like every time I go up to him with a half-assed apology with no intention of listening to him a second time.

Unless you have anything important to say,

Goodbye, Rewa.’

And that was the last thing I ever said to her. She didn’t answer and I deleted our chats, promising myself to never look back. Oh, how bad I am at sticking to promises.

Maybe I should’ve gone easier on her. She was just thirteen, after all.

I haven’t sung Blue and Grey to the moon since.

The words come out of my mouth as I stare at the moon, having woken up from my sleep at 3 a.m. My voice comes out deep and heavy, my heart aching with every worse.

Where’s my angel?

I’m sick and tired of everything,

Someone come and save myself,

‘Cuz I am feeling blue and Grey,

Everywhere I go, everything I see,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

Every time I smile, Every time I cry,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

Oh, I just wanna be happier,

Baby don’t you let me go,

I feel tired in the winter sky,

I just wanna feel stronger

The tears slip down my cheeks without warning as I sit at the chair, huddling into myself further.

I hope she remembers me when I pay her a surprise visit in the morning.

Anxiety is getting the best of me as I stand in front of her college dorm room. Should I knock?

What if her roommate thinks I’m weird? What if Rewa reports me to security? What if she hates me? What if she wants to have nothing to do with me?

I try walking away but then tell myself that I didn’t come all the way from Pakistan just to run away when I am right at her doorstep. I miss her, and whether she does or not, doesn’t matter. I have to see her.

I knock at the door, swallowing down my fear as a shudder runs through my body.

I have to do this. There is no turning back now.

The door opens. A tall, dark skinned, African woman, looks down at me.

It is her.

My breath gets caught in my throat as I stare at her in awe.

It has to be her. Dark skin, curly black hair tied in a pony above her head, and about six feet tall. It is, without a doubt, Olanrewaju, my ex-girlfriend.

Holy shit.

I am not prepared for this.

“Um, can I help you?” She asks, concerned. Her voice is deep, yet smooth as she speaks in a British accent.

I just offer a weak nod, still taking her appearance in for the first time. I try to say hi but it just comes out as a guttural croak. Embarrassing.

“Um, are you okay?” She touches my shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before. What’s your name?”

Upon her touching my shoulder, my body tenses tenfold. She quickly retreats upon noticing my panicked expression.

“I’ll let you inside and give you a glass of water.” She takes a hold of my forearm, and gently walks me into her dorm.

I don’t register my surroundings as I continue to stare at her strong and bold figure. This is the love of my life and she doesn’t even know it.

She sits me down on what I assume is her bed as she walks over to the jug of water on the table. Thankfully, I caught her alone. Roommate isn’t home.

Rewa presses a full glass of water up to my lips and makes sure it all goes down, allowing me to inhale deep breaths, trying to regain my posture.

It takes a few minutes, but I get better.

I nod at her, offering a small smile.

She smiles back. “Now, tell me, what’s your name?”

I stare at her, my gaze piercing hers. “Aqsa.”

There is a flash of something in her eyes that I hope is familiarity and I think I am right when she takes a double take. “What?”

“Aqsa.” I repeat, as if I have no idea what history she might have with that name. “Why?”

She frowns in confusion, her eyes scanning my entire figure before she shakes her head. “Oh, uh, nothing.”

I nod.

“Where’re you from?” She asks. It’s no secret that she’s trying to figure out if I am the Aqsa she knew all those years ago.

“Pakistan.” I tell her.

Her frown deepens. “Where did you grow up?”

I have decided that I’m going to let her figure it out on her own and act as if I’ve never met her. “Why do you ask?”

She shakes her head a bit, then raises her eyebrows. “Middle East?”

She remembers. I nod.

Her breath hitches just a little and she visibly gulps, studying my features carefully.

“Do I know you?” She asks, her voice small and doubtful.

I stare into her big eyes and nod.

She exhales and looks away, leaning back in the chair next to the bed. She folds her arms across her chest, pondering the situation, her expression unreadable. But the tension in her posture can be sensed without having to try twice. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d find my way to you, didn’t I?” I tilt my head, a soft smile on my face.

She clenches her jaw and I can feel the heavy emotion in the atmosphere that replaces her prior concern. “You also said goodbye.” Her voice is heavy.

I pursue my lips in a thin line and nod. “That wasn’t a promise. I promised that I would come to you when I could, though.”

“How did you find me?” Her voice is a bit steady, yet forceful.

I smile. “You told me you lived in London. I have connections around the place. I have the internet. I know you wanted to study mechanical engineering so searching in all the good colleges amongst the mechanical engineering students was the best way to go about it.”

She is looking at me now, her dark chocolate eyes searching my face for something. “You remember?” Her voice cracks as the words leave her mouth.

I nod, trying my best to not get teary-eyed five minutes into our reunion.

Rewa clears her throat and tries to regain her steady posture. “And what about you? What are you doing?”

Ah, small talk. I allow myself to relax. “I’m studying medicine. I’m in my third year. Also, I’m writing.”

She nods and points at something behind me. I turn around to see a small wooden shelf nailed to the wall above her bed, all of my books resting on top of it.

A small smile appears on my face and my jaw stings, an indicator that I am about to cry. “That’s all of them.”

“I had two since when you first wrote them four years ago and then I just gave up, trying to forget you.” She tells me. “But then Noah noticed them and bought more books as gifts.”

“Noah?” I turn to look at her, frowning a bit in confusion.

She sighs and sits back once again. “He thought that maybe I like the writer, so got all the books he could find written by her.”

I nod, that not being what I wanted for the answer. “Who’s Noah?”

Rewa sighs again. “Forget him. He’s unimportant.”

I clutch the glass in my hands tighter, my desire for knowing who Noah was increasing. I am a curious person. I try to shrug it off by distracting myself with something else.

“Where’s your roommate?” I ask.

She looks to the side to see an empty bed. “Semester just started, so she’s out with her friends.”

“You got any?”

Rewa nods. “One is at home due to an emergency and another is probably at her job right now.”

“Do you have a job?”

She shakes her head. “My parents are still paying for me, it’s all going smoothly. They say I have to start paying my own fees when third year starts.”

I nod. That sounds reasonable.

“They’re divorced, right?” I remember she mentioned it.

She nods and there’s an emotion on her face I have a little trouble trying to understand. She seems satisfied, yet in pain, as if she wished I didn’t remind her of her parents. But on the other hand, she seems happy that I cared enough to remember.

“How’s your sister?” I ask, recalling that she mentioned having a younger sister.

Rewa’s expression eases a little as she thinks of her sister. “She’s doing great. Last year of high school then college.”

“That’s good.” I nod.

The door to the room opens and we both turn to see a girl about Rewa’s age standing there, studying me with her critical green eyes, attempting to determine who I am. Her white skin is covered in patches of brown, as if she was playing in the mud.

Once she’s established that she doesn’t know me, she turns to Rewa for an explanation. “Ju?” Her voice is an indicator to the fact that she’s sensed something is wrong.

Rewa sighs. “An old friend.” Then she addresses me. “Aqsa, this is my roommate, Jessica.”

Jessica advances towards me in a friendly manner, extending her hand out for me to shake, her thin lips forming a warm smile. “Nice to meet you. You can call me Jess.” She has a Scottish accent.

I smile back and shake her hand, nodding. “Nice to meet you too, Jess.”

She nods, her curly, red hair bobbing as she does so. “Where’re you from?” She lets my hand go.

“Pakistan.” I answer. “You?”

“Scotland.” She laughs. “Anyways, I have to hit the shower. See you later.”

I nod. “See you.”

Once Jessica is gone, I turn back to Rewa. “Wanna go out for a drive?”

“You have a car?”

“I rented it.”

She seems to ponder over the offer for a bit, as if carefully weighing the pros and cons of going on a ride with her ex. Finally, she nods. “I don’t see why I can’t go.”

The walk towards the rented Honda is quiet as Rewa seems to be deep in thought while I take in my surroundings, not feeling too nervous to notice them anymore. It’s still cloudy outside, but I think it won’t rain till late in the evening.

I get into the car parked outside the campus and Rewa hesitates once she’s opened the door to the passenger seat. She bows down and looks at me. “Where are we going?”

“We’re circling the next five blocks until we get tired.” I tell her.

She whips out her phone and I think she texts somebody that. A faint smile appears on my face. This is my Rewa. Wary of everybody, no matter how trustworthy they may seem.

She then enters the car and closes the door, fastening her seatbelt.

I start the car and smile at her. “You really think a bestselling author would try to kidnap you?”

She gives me a sheepish smile, a little pink creeping up her cheeks. “You only have one bestseller and I don’t want to take any chances.”

I nod, turning forwards, driving onto the road. “You’d probably win in a fight against me anyway.”

At that, she laughs and that is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in my life. More beautiful than a waterfall splashing into a river below it. I want to be the one who keeps her laughing like that all the time.

Her laugh dies down after some time and we fall quiet.

“Do you still listen to K-pop?” I ask her, breaking the silence.

“Sometimes.”

“BTS?”

“Yeah. They disbanded though.”

“I know that.” I nod. “Can I play a song?”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know…” I think for a minute, observing the wet streets of London. “Spring day?”

She seems to ponder over it too before agreeing to play Spring day. Once the music plays in the car, something… settles within me. I feel… calm. I don’t know if it’s because of the song or because I’m finally meeting Rewa, but I enjoy this feeling.

The song ends in a few minutes and it’s quiet again. But this time, it’s welcome. It’s not awkward, it feels good.

“Can we be friends again?” I ask all of a sudden.

She doesn’t respond for at least two minutes before nodding. “Wont your dad find out?”

“He doesn’t need to know it’s you.” I smile. “Besides, I’ll be independent in two years and have a job, so no worries.”

“Wont he get you married after that?” She asks.

Why does she care about that? I suggested being friends. Maybe… she’s hoping we can be more? My stomach does a flip at that exciting thought.

“I’ll get out of there.” I tell her. “Do a job here, be free of their restricting opinions.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Will you give me another chance?” In the silence, I ask her the question I have been aching to ask for a long time.

“At dating?” She gets right down to the point.

I shrug. “If you want to. I just want to be a part of your life again.”

“So, it doesn’t matter how?” She asks.

I draw in a deep breath. “I just want to make you happy. I still love you. You can decide how I make you happy. I can be whatever you want me to be. My love for you exists beyond any label this world could slap on us.”

There’s silence again. Then she speaks up. “You’re still the same.”

I blink, eyes still on the road. “What?”

“Before, when we used to text,” She says. “You’d always say something that would fluster me so much. You’re still the same.”

At that, I smile, recalling all the many times I would say something cheesy and make her feel butterflies in her stomach. “Glad to know.”

She gives a soft chuckle in response. “I think we can start off fresh, with you as my friend. I still need time getting over Noah, so-“

“Noah was your date?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is quiet.

“What happened?” I ask, concerned. I swear if this Noah hurt her, I might just have to put ‘become a hitwoman’ on my bucket list, not that I haven’t already considered that.

She lets out a puff of breath, hugging herself. “I don’t know, we both wanted very different things from life. He was too serious about it and I wanted to focus on my future.”

“Oh.” That is all I can say. Noah hadn’t hurt her so there was no reason to be mad. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“So, we can be friends?” I smile.

“Of course.”

I feel all giddy on the inside.

I look to my side and smile at her, slowing the car down. She smiles back, both of us sharing eye contact for a swift moment before I turn back to the road.

I go back to the radio on the car and play Seesaw by Suga, a song and artist we both adore to pieces.

And at that moment, as Suga’s soothing voice instills a sense of safety and Rewa at my side awakes a sense of assurance, I feel complete.

Who knows?

Maybe I can make her love me again, we can resume our relationship and maybe even get married.

Live a happy life.

Six years later, standing at the altar, Blue and Grey playing in the background, as I hold Rewa’s hands, I realize just how right I was.

“I love you, Aqsa.”

“I love you so, my love.”

“I declare you married! You may kiss!”

And we do. A beautiful, passionate kiss, marking the beginning of our life together.

Some tales do have happy endings.

A Story by Riley Gray

#submission #short story #a gen z project #1k to 5k

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call-2-arms · 4 years ago

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Character Ethnicity, Religion and Inspiration

// Because I want to talk a little about the inspiration and culture of my muses (I won’t go into too much depth about the canon ones since we know already, but I WILL mention them). This isn’t going to be heavily in detail, just a basic outline as I’ve realised I have a real passion for biracial muses--possibly because I don’t feel we see them enough in media today, especially parents of mixed race children, and simply because I enjoy the different cultures between them and how that effect their children etc. I also feel like biracial folks are shoved under the bus a LOT because they “aren’t dark enough” or “you don’t look (insert race)” and that’s bullshit, so I think I like to focus a lot on that and bring light to the situation, or at least I realised that when I was thinking about making this meta. I’ll go alphabetical through my muses (including the ones that I don’t RP here but are still part of my muses lives, and my Inquisitor Kaaras).

This will be a little long, so I’ll post it under the cut.

- Mentions of fantasy racism.

- I use a non white washing filter on my icons for those who are poc. :) PLEASE note that even with filters, DA:I lighting isn’t the best at depicting colours.

- Closed character means I do not RP them here but they are still muses I share here

- Please note that Thedas is not the country they may seem to be inspired by, but MULTIPLE countries of inspiration. These are my headcanons alone.

Abzi Pământ: Dalish elf from Nevarra ( Egyptian / African inspired ). His clan is a stationed clan in the wilderness of Nevarra, they perform rituals for their dead much like the humans of Nevarra (Egyptian). However, their clan also practices in body modifications, scarification and body plates. Abzi’s clan has an unusually high life span for Dalish elves, which may be due to their stationed life, or their rituals to the gods. Abzi is a warm, medium to dark in skin colour. Abzi’s clan follows the Dalish gods, however, they practice their worship in different ways to most, with sacrifices and preserving their dead (mummification). Abzi’s accent is Egyptian.

Aithell’ana ‘Aith’ Adaar ( closed character ): Ex Dalish elf, ( European inspired ), who has since abandoned and refused to follow her former Dalish way of life. Aith is from the Brecillian Forest, Ferelden . When she came into her magic, she was forced to leave her clan and attacked by templars. She holds hostility towards many Dalish because of her negative experience, and refuses their gods. She was only 7 and did not gain her vallaslin before she was set to be on her way. Aith was adopted by the Adaar family (and Kaaras’ adopted sister) when Kaaras stumbled upon her in the forest. Aith is Caucasian in colour. Aith is atheist and does not believe in any gods. Aith’s accent is Welsh.

Arach Sgott ( closed character ): A city elf from Starkhaven, ( Scottish / European inspired ), he has red hair and pale, blotched skin. His grandparents were former Dalish elves, but his parents lived in the alienage. He wished to embrace his Dalish heritage, so he had facial tattoos (not vallaslin). Unfortunately, Arach’s experience with most Dalish has been negative due to their contempt towards “flat ears”, so he has stopped paying attention to his heritage and makes sure to remind others his tattoos are not vallaslin. Arach is agnostic, he doesn’t know what to believe. Arach’s accent is Scottish.

Bastien Beaufort: Bastian is a templar of Orlais, a noble born son and biracial ( French / French Louisiana inspired ). Both mother and father are from Orlais, but his mother’s side is darker in skin tone while his father is Caucasian. His mother has Marcher ( French Louisiana inspired ) ancestry, while his father is of a strong Orlesian ( French inspired ) line. Bastien is a medium to dark skin tone. Bastien is a devout Andrastian who holds his religion very close to him, taking vows to keep himself to the Maker and Andraste (he is abstinent). As someone who was punished for his interest in other men, he believes his sexuality is a sin and he must repent. Bastien’s accent is French.

Cassandra Allegra Calogera Filomena Pentaghast: As in canon, Cassandra is of Nevarran ( Egyptian inspired ) descent, her skin colour is a light to medium, olive tone. Cassandra is a devout Andrastian, however, she can learn to accept the gods of others if given time and for someone to teach her. I have always heard a more Romanian accent when it comes to her VA, so I do believe that their accents are Romanian inspired.

Fintan ‘Finn‘ Ghilain: Finn is a Dalish elf from the Dales ( Irish inspired ). He is descended from the Ghilain clan, although he was moved as a boy with his family to Clan Durgen, who resided closer to the Frostbacks. Finn left his clan to wander alone when he was younger, due to the idea that he believed elves and humans could somehow find peace together. He is ghost white in skin tone and has the hereditary condition of Poliosis (whitening of the hair). He is spiritual in beliefs, but exceptionally open minded to all spirits and gods. Finn’s accent is Irish.

Garrett Hawke: Of Lothering, Ferelden ( European inspired ). Hawke’s father was a Marcher, olive in skin colour while Leandra was Caucasian. Hawke is of olive skin himself, a little lighter than Malcolm. Hawke is atheist, and if anything, holds contempt for any god or those who claim to be gods. Hawke’s accent is English ( as heard in game ).

Ignis Scientia: As of FFXV, Ignis is Caucasian and pale in skin colour. I do headcanon that he is of a Tenebrea blood line, however, the Scientia family has been in servitude of the Crown for such a long time that they speak the King’s tongue. Ignis follows the Six. Ignis’ accent is English ( as heard in game ).

Jaime Tywin Lannister: Of Casterly Rock, Westeros. He is Caucasian. Jaime follows the Seven, although he is more agnostic in nature. Jaime’s accent is English ( as heard in the series )

Kaaras Taashath Adaar: Kaaras is a Vashoth qunari, whose parents fled the Qun ( East Asian / Greek inspired ) when knowing they were expecting a child. Kaaras knows little of his parents upbringing under the Qun and was ignorant as a child to why they were so much different from the other children. He grew up in Southron Hills, Ferelden, though was born in Starkhaven, aided by a Chantry sister. He is pale grey in skin tone, his father being medium to dark and his mother being pale like him. Kaaras is Andrastian, however, he is very open minded when it comes to other religions and gods, believing that all gods stemmed from some kind of truth. He loves learning of other religions and cultures. Due to growing up in Ferelden, Kaaras’ accent is English ( as heard in game ).

Latika Madan: A city born elf from Kirkwall ( Indian inspired ). She is medium to dark in colour. Her family history is one of slavery and in the alienages of the Marches. Most elves in the alienages are forced to believe in the Maker, however, Latika never took to the human beliefs. She believes in respecting ones self and inner peace, however, she will use Andrastian curses as it’s what she grew up around. Due to growing up in Kirkwall, Latika’s accent is English.

Lyna Mahariel ( closed character ): The Hero of Ferelden, born and raised in Ferelden’s wilderness in the Brecilian Forest ( Native American inspired ). Lyna is of strong Dalish heritage and faith. She is a light to medium tone in skin colour. Lyna’s accent is Welsh.

Rike Zimmerman: A Vashoth, abandoned by her parents and left on the doorstep of a small village in the Anderfels ( German / European inspired ). She was raised as humanly as possible, but has turned to a very spiritual belief. She befriends animals more than she is interested in people. She is dark in skin tone with a grey undertone. Rike’s biological parents are of the Qun ( East Asian / Greek inspired ). Due to growing up in the Anderfels, Rike’s accent is German.

Talan’ash: Tal’Vashoth from Kont-aar, Rivain ( Spanish influenced ). Talan was born under the Qun ( East Asian / Greek inspired ). He speaks a multitude of languages, and grew up mingling with the people of Rivain, although still subject to the strict teachings of the Qun. He still follows the beliefs of the Qunari people, that their bodies are hosts to who they are and that their spirit will move on to still fulfil its purpose, although he has struggled coming to terms with being Tal’Vashoth. He is medium to dark in skin tone, with a grey undertone. Due to growing up in Rivain, Talan’s accent is Spanish.

Tobias ‘Tobi’ Ettore Clarke: A human of Ferelden, his mother was Chasind ( Māori inspired ) and his father was Antivan ( Italian inspired ). He grew up with a mixed childhood when it came to culture and language, as well as religious beliefs. Tobi hated feeling different from everyone else, so he embraced his mother’s Chasind heritage, hoping that he would be welcome to their village one day. Tobi is atheist and frowns upon anyone who believes they require worship. Tobi is olive skinned. His face and body tattoos are linked to his Chasind heritage ( Māori inspired ). Due to growing up in Ferelden, his accent is English.

#Headcanons: all #Meta: all #Culture #religions #inspiration #ethnicity #culture and ethnicity #ooc #cw: fantasy racism

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thestalkerbunny · 4 years ago

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I make the rules now, Let’s talk Tentacle Monsters

-Tentacle Monsters are more closely related to Octopuses than anything else. If you come across one that is very brightly colored, it is usually because of this heritage and is most likely venomous. Joking legends say that Octopuses that become bored of the sea moved to the land and became the Tentacle Monsters of today.

-For most of their life span, they lack eyes and rely heavily on their tentacles to drag themselves around, feeling around and to ‘see’ things, often leading to them spending many hours just aimless moving about and grabbing things and trying to gauge what it is.

-So most of the times when adventurers step on a tentacle monster, it’s just the creature being alarmed that something stepped on them and the monster trying to gauge what the fuck just touched them, so grabby grabby and usually smacking them around because they are now stabbing.

-They usually lose interest once they’ve properly gauged what something is and will usually put it down unless it is continuously provoked or attacked-in which case, you indeed poked a bear with a stick enough, it’s gonna smack you.

-Tentacle monsters require high moisture content. Although they produce their own slime to conserve their own moisture, they greatly appreciate swimming and respond well to being spritzed with water.

-Cuttings of Tentacle monsters can be cultivated the same way cuttings from plants can. Small ‘domestic’ tentacle monsters are popular among wizards who garden to have since they take care of pests like birds or squirrels that would eat their seeds and wards off garden thieves. Provided they’re well socialized, they usually don’t grab at people anything worse than a gentle wrist or ankle touch.

-Their slime-which is often why adventurers go bothering them in the first place-is popular to be used as facial masks in beauty care or often as an egg substitute in cooking dishes. The meat of the monster is very similar to calamari in texture and consistency.

-Wizards who study tentacle monsters in their younger stages of not having eyes find that they are just as intelligent as African Grey Macaws if not more. Fully fledged ‘Adult’ Tentacle Monsters have expressed a very human like intelligence that is often argued about whether or not they are truly sentient beings with emotions or feelings.

-Tentacle monsters, like many many creatures in the world, lay numerous eggs with the 1% chance of at least some of them surviving, even less surviving to adulthood. It is considered very remarkable if Tentacle Monsters who make it to adult hood come across another member from their same birth clutch.

-Their eggs require such a specific level of humidity and moisture that is so hard to maintain that Tentacle Monsters become obsessive over areas that meet those base minimum requirements.Other than a bad temperment, this would be a leading reason why one might attack a group of adventurers simply because they got too close

#TSB talks #Tentacle Monster #Tentacle Knight #dnd

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catbreeds2 · 4 years ago

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Savannah Cats

A hybrid of a house feline and a medium-size African wild cat, the Savannah is a troublesome and rewarding companion.

The Savannah cat is an incredible creature that seems like a wild cat because of it actually has a wildcat’s blood in it’s veins.

The Savannah cat is the outcomes of crossing a house cat with a serval, which is a wild species of cat from Africa. Subsequently it is a hybrid – a cross between two utterly completely different species- and by no means an exact breed.

On account of this, there may be native restrictions or requirements just about possession that you’ll want to research.

The hybrid was first tried inside the late 1980’s when a breeder effectively mated a serval with a house Siamese cat.

The end result was the Savannah cat, a unprecedented creature with large ears, extremely efficient, prolonged limbs and a shocking, observed coat.

Savannahs are labeled by what variety of generations they’re far from the wild serval.

An F1 is the offspring of a direct mating of a serval and a house cat. The “F” stands for “fillial” which designates the generations far from the serval cat. There are F1, F2, F3, F4 and so forth. generations, counting on what share of the kitten is serval.

F4 and F5 Savannahs benefit from low cost pets for folks looking for only a bit wild. They’ve decrease than ten p.c serval of their system and are usually pretty manageable.

Since these are hybrids, there are sterility points, and the important factors that present themselves when breeding completely totally different species.

All Savannahs have a share of untamed serval in them, nevertheless the period that they are will dictate many variations in dimension, coloring and temperament.

Together with doubtlessly being pretty a handful, these cats could be very, very pricey, with some F1’s costing many 1000’s of dollars.

Dimension: The Savannah is usually described as a medium-size breed, nonetheless. Her weight can range from eight to 20 kilos, usually additional. Males are greater than females.

Life Span: 17 to 20 years

SAVANNAH CAT PERSONALITY

The persona of the Savannah cat is often very dog-like. They love video video games and strategies and prefer to fetch, which is an effective strategy to work off just a few of their energy.

Savannahs are recognized for turning into terribly hooked as much as their households, and are notorious “head-butters” greeting their members of the family this vogue continuously.

The Savannah cat simply is not acknowledged by the Cat Fanciers Affiliation (CFA), the world’s largest cat group. They’re acknowledged by the TICA, one different huge group and are one of many essential normal “distinctive” cat breeds.

These cats are usually very huge and retain a wild look that could possibly be very attractive. They’ve very prolonged legs, and counting on the know-how, can have very large ears as successfully.

The Savannah may make an unimaginable pet within the exact setting, nonetheless requires plenty of stimulation and, ideally, room to roam.

If left alone, even for temporary intervals, they may flip into dangerous and with their dimension, energy, and leaping skills its highly effective to keep up them off of or out of places.

A secure cat pen outside will be enormously appreciated by this energetic cat. And many householders choose to crate their Savannah when away from residence to avoid “events” like demolished sofas.

Savannahs have a very dog-like persona and experience learning strategies, collaborating in fetch and strolling on a leash.

Shedding is also very extreme and customary grooming is desired.

These are glossy, magnificent, very large-sized cats which have few breed-related nicely being factors, although medicine and anesthesia must be administered sparingly on account of tendency of the liver to be smaller than a house cat.

Some breeders recommend a specific weight reduction program for these cats as successfully. On account of they seem to be a actually vigorous animal, and a house/wild hybrid, the Savannah might be not applicable for a family with children or additional pets. Evaluation very fastidiously and have quite a few publicity to every kittens and adults sooner than taking the plunge.

THE SAVANNAH CAT HEALTH

Every pedigreed cats and mixed-breed cats have numerous incidences of effectively being points that might be genetic in nature. The Savannah is usually healthful, nonetheless, and would not have any recognized genetic points. Magnificence flaws might keep some Savannahs out of the current ring, nevertheless they don’t affect his properly being or his capability to be a perfect companion.

THE SAVANNAH CAT CARE

Brush a Savannah’s transient to medium-length coat a few occasions per week to remove lifeless hair and distribute pores and pores and skin oils. Brush the enamel to cease periodontal sickness. Every day dental hygiene is most interesting, nonetheless weekly brushing is finest than nothing. It’s suggestion to supply a Savannah with a giant outside enclosure or to take care of her as an indoor-only cat to forestall sicknesses unfold by completely different cats, assaults by canines or coyotes, and the other dangers that face cats who go outside (resembling being hit by a automotive). Savannahs who go exterior moreover run the hazard of being stolen by someone who want to have a novel and pleasant cat with out paying for it. Keep in mind some cities or states have authorized tips in opposition to defending hybrid or distinctive animals. Whereas the cats registered with TICA are thought-about completely residence, a first- or second-generation Savannah (which means one who has a serval as a guardian or grandparent) may face restrictions. Take a look at the authorized pointers in your area sooner than shopping for any Savannah that might fall beneath authorized tips governing hybrids. Study the Hybrid Regulation for further data.

THE SAVANNAH CAT COAT AND GROOMİNG

Savannahs can be found quite a few utterly completely different colors and patterns: black, brown, or black observed tabby; black silver seen tabby; and black smoke. Most have robust black or darkish brown spots on golden, cream, sandy, or white backgrounds. They stand out for his or her daring, robust markings, which will probably be spherical, oval, or elongated. Some Savannahs have what’s referred to as a marble pattern, throughout which the spots resemble an elongated bull’s-eye. Because of residence shorthairs figured of their ancestry, some Savannahs can be found colors and patterns that aren’t described inside the breed regular, along with chocolate, cinnamon, blue, purple, and colorpoint. Savannahs which could be non-standard colors may very well be registered nonetheless not confirmed. The Savannah’s triangular head is supported by a protracted neck and topped by large, broad ears. The medium-size eyes may very well be any shade. Nostril leather-based ranges from pink to black, nonetheless black Savannahs ought to have steady black nostril leather-based. A Savannah has a medium-length tail. If she have been an athlete, the tall and lean Savannah will be intently recruited by all among the finest basketball teams. Her unusual peak comes from her long-legged serval ancestor. It takes a Savannah roughly three years to attain grownup dimension. A kitten who appears to be widespread in dimension would possibly rocket up in high after she’s three months outdated. She usually achieves his peak throughout the first 12 months after which her physique fills out over the next couple of years. Fascinating actuality: the once more legs are barely longer than the doorway legs.

SAVANNAH KITTENS

Savannah kittens are extremely efficient, energetic and neutral, even at an early age.

They’re compelled to find everyting and in every single place and might play till they fully collapse exhausted on the carpet or all through your lap.

Kitten-proofing is an absolute neccessity sooner than bringing a Savannah kitten dwelling.

A company hand is required to clarify boundaries and arrange routine with Savannahs. They’re very strong-willed, even when tiny.

In look, Savannah kittens look very very like adults. They take a extremely very very long time to develop and won’t attain full measurement till they’re 5 years outdated. Males get pretty a bit greater than females, and male kittens typically have very big paws.

These are very pricey and unusual kittens and discovering a breeder may be robust.

Savannah cats are priced in response to the proportion of serval cat that they are, and could also be many 1000’s of dollars.

Be careful of distinctive kitten scams the place photos of show-quality kittens are displayed and enormous deposits are requested.

SAVANNAH CAT BREED STANDARD

The appears of Savannah cats varies drastically counting on what variety of generations away from the wild African serval cat an individual is also.

Head Kind: The top is a broad, modified wedge type, with rounded contours, triangular when seen from the doorway and with a small chin. The head is barely small for the physique measurement. Ears vary relying upon know-how, huge with rounded concepts. Eye spots on the backs of the ears are extraordinarily fascinating. The eyes are almond shaped, huge, gold, inexperienced or orange in shade.

Physique and Tail: Huge measurement physique, correctly muscled, powerfully constructed, and longer than tall. Legs are prolonged Toes should be medium dimension and oval fashioned with prolonged toes. 5 toes in entrance and four in once more. The tail must be three/4 of the physique measurement. Not whip-like.

Coat: Fast in dimension. Dense and mushy.

Pattern: Wild pattern, tabby or tiger of varied shades of brown and grey, clearly seen could also be very fascinating.

Whole Look: This must be a hard-bodied and muscular cat with a protracted, extremely efficient torso, and good bone. Wild making an attempt, huge, distinctive.

A FEW MORE SAVANNAH CAT FACTS

The Savannah cat is simply not an exact breed, it is a hybrid – the outcomes of cross-breeding between two utterly totally different species- house cats and African servals

#catbreeds #catlovers #savannahcats

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