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starogeorgina · 4 months

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𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬

Pairing: Harwin Strong × Targ oc

Warning: Childbirth, mentions of violence, swearing, blood, character death

3.09

“If he wasn’t my kin, I’d have his head on a fucking spike!”

Harwin gently tilts your chin up so you’re facing him. His fingers are coated in your blood from your nose, but it seems insignificant in comparison to what your son has suffered. “You need to have a maester check you over, Vaella.”

“And take them away from our sons?” Feeling overwhelmed with his hand on you, you brush it off and start pacing again, using the movements as a way to not only cope with the adrenaline of anger bubbling inside you but also the pain slowly seeping across your body. You felt as if a sudden fever was coming on, but you refused to let up. “I don’t understand why he would do such a thing to his own flesh and blood.”

“Some people are just inherently bad.”

“But he’s my brother,” you weep. “That should mean something.”

Tears sting your eyes as you look at your sons through the doorway as they speak with the maesters. Aerion's eyes were red and puffy from crying, and when you excused yourself to go clean up your nose, which had started bleeding again, distressing Aerion further Harwin asked Elinda, your sister's handmaiden, to stay by your side. The young woman was coddling him as if your eldest son were her own. Vaegon was lying flat on his stomach in a deep slumber due to the high volume of milk from the poppy he had consumed, with maesters surrounding him. Each of them is trying to figure out the best way to treat injuries to his lower back.

“Oh, my baby, my baby.”

Harwin chokes back a sob. You had expected him to be full of rage, but instead he looked defeated. Exhausted from the worry and frustrated from not being able to help. The palms of Harwin’s hands had small crescent-shaped cuts on them from him clenching his hand so tight.

When you feel your nosebleed has stopped, you go and sit beside Aerion again, holding him close to you as he sobs, “It’s my fault. I couldn’t stop him; I couldn’t protect my brother.”

“Shh, none of this is your fault.”

“He called us bastards,” Aerion sobs. “And Jace, Luke, and Joff. He said I was the only one who didn’t know.”

You look up at Harwin; his eyes are glimmering with what you suspect is fear. Harwin crouched down to be level with him and spoke softly, “Listen, lad, I will tell you the truth. This isn’t about bastardy, the greens... They don’t want a woman sitting on the throne. They will say anything to discreet princess Rhaenyra and her sons, so the king's firstborn son sits on the throne.”

Aerion looks from Harwin to you, confused. “But if anything happened to Princess Rhaenyra and her sons, the throne would go to my mother before it did to my uncle; she’s the second-born child of the king.”

The sweet innocence in his voice breaks your heart.

“They would just do the same to your mother, lad. The Hightowers want the firstborn of Alicent to rule.”

“Will they kill us so Aegon will be the heir?"

You kiss the crown of his head multiple times and say, “No, SweetPea, it won’t come to that.”

—

You let out a sharp breath as the maester explained the extent of damage your son was suffering. Vaegon had snuck out to confront his uncle after overhearing Aemond say Aegon would be king one day. When Vaegon told him he was wrong, Aemond called your son’s bastards, then pushed Vaegon down the concrete steps.

Aerion squeezed your hand; your poor boy blamed himself. He saw his brother leaving and chased after him, but Vaegon inherited your stubbornness and refused to go back to their rooms.

“Unfortunately, it’s too early to tell if the price will ever walk again.”

Tears sting your eyes, making your vision slightly blurred. “Is he able to travel, or will it cause him more pain?”

“I’d advise a high dose of milk from the poppy for the boat ride back to avoid any distress... but in truth, Princess Prince has lost feeling below the waist.”

You grip tightly onto Harwin’s arm; none of it seems real. You glance at the door when Elinda enters the room; she reminds you of a frightened mouse with how she trembles as she walks over to you. The handmaiden had been sent to bring your daughter and to inform your sister and father that they needed to come as a matter of urgency.

“Where is Ada?” Harwin is alarmed.

“Ser Harwin, Princess... She is with Princess Rhaenyra in the great hall. There has been another incident involving Prince Aemond.”

—

All eyes are on you when you burst through the Great Hall’s main door. The handmaiden who informed you of the incident was running not far behind; she had briefly filled you and Harwin in on the conflict that transpired between the children and the adults. The first thing you notice are the drops of blood on the floor and Rhaenyra holding her bleeding arm while your father's dagger lies by Alicent’s feet. There was a clear divide in the room, with your family standing on one side and Greens standing on the other.

“Ada?” You call for your daughter, and panic sets in when you can’t see her among the various bodies in the room. “Ada!”

“I’m sorry!” She comes out from behind Lord Lyonel and runs to you, her cheeks flushed from crying. She clings to your growl and sobs, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You brush her hair out of her face and say, “It’s alright, my sweet, it’s alright.”

You clap your hand over hers, keeping her firmly by your side; she grabs ahold of Harwin’s hand as well. You look to your father for any kind of indication of what he was planning to do, but he seems lost in his own thoughts, so you turn to Alicent.

“Did he tell you what he did to—”

“The king already knows about the slander hurled towards my sons,” Rhaenyra says.

You feel blood dribble from your nose onto your lip as you stare at Rhaenyra, speechless. You quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of your dress. An insult was the least of your worries. But she didn’t know; none of them did. One son suffers in agony, while the other's heart fills with guilt. All the while, your brother went off and happily claimed a dragon. You glance at your Aemond, feeling void of sympathy that he’d lost an eye. He was smiling beneath his bandage; he was proud of what he’d done.

“Do you have any remorse for what you did to my son?”

Your father finally finds his voice. “Vaella, what happened to my grandson?”

Aemond looks down at his feet, the smugness on his face fading, which only infuriates you further. Your voice cracks as you speak, “I’ll give you one last chance; tell them what you did.”

Alicent looks at you stunned; it’s clear she has no idea what you’re referring to. She waits a beat, then speaks thickly, “My son was attacked by Prince Lucerys. He lost an eye.”

“An eye? Prince Aemond said the Hightowers were planning to usurp my sister's throne, and then he almost killed my son. ” You turn to face your father and say, "Your grace, your grandson has been maimed and may never walk again! And his brother is traumatized from witnessing such a horrendous act.”

Madness and rage were spreading inside you like poison; perhaps you should have listened to your husband and stayed with your sons.

“Vaella…”

Harwin tries to say something to you, but you storm over to the king, who looks just as defeated as the rest of you. “Father,” you speak in High Valyrian. “This is them; this is the greens. I’ve told you again and again about the agenda that they have been pushing. That a woman isn’t fit to rule and your grandsons are bastards, and now the lies have run so deep that her son thinks it’s okay to physically attack mine and Rhaenyra’s children.”

“Vaella,” he sighs. “I cannot change what has been done; I cannot mend the wounded.”

“Do something.” Tears roll down your cheek. “Aemond is just a boy repeating what his mother and grandsire said. Alicent has just assaulted the heir to the throne and attempted to harm Lucerys. Arrest her, and I’ll feed that traitor who dare calls himself your hand to Varos!”

“Alicent is my wife.”

“Your wife?” You scoff. “The Hightowers are parasites feeding off dragon's blood. My love for her children is the only reason I’m not bringing fire and blood down upon their entire house.”

Harwin places his hand over your chest, urging you to step back. Harwin wasn’t fluent in High Valyrian, but he knew it well enough to recognise the threats you were making. “The king wishes to do nothing.” He picks Ada up with one arm and takes your hand with the other. “The best thing we can do is get our family back to Dragonstone.”

“I’ll have a ship prepared immediately,” Lord Corlys says. “It will be ready within the hour.”

Harwin nods and says, “Thank you.”

You felt your heat tearing itself apart; not only were your sons suffering, but your father had become so weak he was no longer able to defend your house. Shaking your head, you go to leave the great hall with your daughter and husband but stop when you reach the doorway. You thought you could handle the pain in your lower abdomen, but a sudden sharpness causes you to claw at the fabric of your dress. You sway on your feet slightly, and Harwin wraps his arm around you, keeping you up right.

“Send for a maester!” Daemon calls out.

“Fuck,” you grit your teeth and squeeze his arm tightly, feeling blood trickling down your thighs. “The babe is coming.”

—

“You need to push, princess.”

“I am fucking pushing!” You bark. “This shouldn’t be happening; it’s too soon.”

You grit your teeth and try to focus on the warmth of your sister's hand on your back, grounding you in the present moment. Harwin was waiting in the next room with your children; you were glad. You couldn’t bear to look at him, not when this was your fault. You should have made sure the knights posted outside the room your children were supposed to be sleeping in were capable of stopping them from sneaking out. You shouldn’t have allowed yourself to become so upset. If anything happened to your baby, it was your fault.

Rhaenyra’s eyes were focused on the bloodstained sheets below. You had been pushing for hours with no results. “Don’t let them do it to me,” you sob. “I don’t want to die like our mother.”

Tears roll down her cheeks, but she forces a smile. “You will have a baby in your arms soon, and the pain will be over.”

The contractions come hard and fast now, like waves crashing against rocks. Sweat trickles down your forehead; the pain intensifies, but you know it's nature's way of telling you to start pushing again. You bear down with each passing moment, feeling the muscles in your abdomen tense and release as if they were being pulled apart.

A few more moments of agonizing pain pass, and then the room is filled with a baby’s cries. The midwife cuts the cord and then places the baby on your chest. “It’s a girl.”

“Cassandra, her name is Cassandra.” Tears of happiness streamed from your eyes. Your beautiful girl had thick, dark hair and eyes to match her fathers. “She’s perfect—oh fuck, I think another one is coming.”

One of the midwives pushes your legs open and says, “The princess is crowning.”

The room fills with the sound of people rushing around, and blood starts spilling onto the ground. The bleeding was heavier than before. One of the handmaids gives you an apologetic look as she lifts the baby from your chest and says, “I’ll clean her up, princess.”

“Take her to Harwin.”

Rhaenyra wipes a cloth over your forehead. “Sister, are you sure?”

“I don’t want her in the room when I die.” You let out an agonizing scream. “Just take her and go!”

Your eyes become heavy, and your vision fades as you watch the handmaid wrap your daughter in a blanket. Rhaenyra shakes your shoulder, yelling for you to stay awake, but your sight is locked firmly on your newborn. Before she disappears from sight, your vision goes black.

—

Feeling his wife’s absence, Harwin opens his eyes and sits up in the bed, squinting. He looks around the room, hoping to see her, but Vaella is nowhere to be seen. He looks down into the crib next to him and sees Cassandra scrunching her face up while sleeping. His little girl was smaller and sickly-looking, but she has fed well from the wet nurse and is now sleeping soundly. Getting to his feet, Harwin goes straight to the door and is about to order the knights on the opposite side to search for her, but hearing a humming noise, he stops.

He follows the noise to the balcony and finds Vaella sitting on the ground, rocking, and Rhea in her arms, as if the dead baby would take comfort in being in her mother's arms. When the handmaid brought Cassandra through to the other room, he knew something was wrong and went to be beside his wife. The maester and midwife tried to force him out of the room, insisting it was no place for a man to be.

“And which one of you is going to make me leave my wife’s side?”

Rhaenyra interjects before anyone else can respond, “Ser Harwin will be staying by my sisters side.”

Harwin had felt so helpless when he first saw her laying on the birthing bed, with him unable to do anything to help his wife, who no longer had the energy to scream. Aerion, Vaegon, and Ada needed their mother's strength and courage, something no amount of love from him could provide them. Vaella was covered in sweat and blood; he was so sure he’d lose her. But his princess was a fighter and pulled through, yet the second girl she gave birth to did not.

Harwin was conflicted; he didn’t want to disturb her, but he didn’t want his wife to feel alone.

His decision is made when Vaella looks up at the sky, watching the dragons flying above, and begins talking out loud. “The golden dragon is Sunfyre; he’s bonded with your uncle Aegon. The blue one flying beside him is Dreamfyre, your auntie Helaena’s dragon. The largest one is your brother Vaegon’s dragon, Nightmare.”

Harwin fights back at Sob when Vaella’s voice breaks when she mentions Vaegon. He backs off slowly. She needed the time with Rhea as their daughter's funeral would be held once they arrived on Dragston. Ser Laenor and Rhaenyra had left on Dragonback, so arrangements would be made for their arrival. The maesters advised waiting until Vaella was fully healed before traveling home due to her blood loss, but she was desperate to return home. So did he. Harwin didn’t doubt the masters of Driftmark’s capabilities since they worked miracles to save his wife, but he also didn’t trust any maesters he didn’t know to care for his children.

Hearing a soft knock at the door, Harwin goes over and answers. His mouth goes dry. “Brother.”

“I hope I haven’t woken the princess.”

Harwin steps into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Without being asked, the knight on duty goes and stands at the bottom of the hallway, giving them privacy. From the way the sun peeked through the clouds, Harwin guessed it was roughly five in the morning. “Is this an urgent matter?”

“Yes.” Larys puts his weight against his stick and whispers, “My bees have been busy. And I’ve heard whispers.”

“I’m not interested in gossip.”

Hints of a smirk appear on the clubfoot’s face. “It involves Princess Vaella and the unfortunate events that took place last night.”

Rage burns inside of him, and Harwin fits a clench at his side. “What do you know?”

“Do you remember what type of tea the princess was drinking?”

The question throws him off. “It was red and had a horrid smell to it. Vaella said it was her first time tasting it.”

“Hmm, that’s what I feared. One of the ladies cleaning the room said the smell reminded her of barberry.”

“A fruit tea?”

Larys nods, as if the answer were obvious. “For you and me, it’s perfectly safe, but not for pregnant women, as it can trigger miscarriages. Tell me, did the princess suffer from any vomiting or nosebleeds prior to going into labor?”

Harwin gulps down. “She spat the tea out.”

“But she may have ingested it in small doses without knowing,” Larys leans in again. “Between us, brother, I find it rather particular that princess Vaella was perfectly fine on Dragonstone, but as soon as she arrived on Driftmark, she’s poisoned.”

“My daughter is dead. We will speak of this another time.”

Harwin enters the room and presses his back against the door. If what Larys said was true, then this was... He couldn’t even begin to process what it all meant. Not now, not when he needed to grieve.

#house of the dragon #ser harwin strong x oc #ser harwin strong fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #broken bonds #house of the dragon fanfic #harwin strong x you #ser harwin strong fanfiction #harwin strong x oc #harwin strong/you #Ser Harwin Strong/oc #harwin strong fanfic #broken bonds 3.09 #ser harwin strong x you #Harwin Strong

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idontknowmyownmind · 4 months

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Cale and Roksu twin AU

An AU where Roksu has a weak body due his laziness to move and exercise but people around them misunderstand it as he has weak body because he is sick.

While Cale is the 'healthy' twin.

The used to be really close but they had a fallout when Lily's born.

The reason is Roksu found out Cale's bad habit or something he did that Roksu is not approve of because it's not good for him.

Since then, they have been distance with each other despite they still silently seek each other out.

Bad rumors still created about Cale and Roksu try his best to alleviate it because none of it is true, but of course people misunderstand again and 'pity' him who is too good for someone like Cale.

The truth is, between them, it's Cale who has weak constitution and vitality.

He got constant headaches, frequent nosebleeds, even sudden fainting.

He got used with the headaches but there are times when it's just too much.

The nosebleeds is both frequent and rare it's easy to mask.

And he rarely faint, so no one ever found out.

He might get sick easily and ofter got fever, but somehow he manage to hide it until present time.

The only one who fully aware of his condition is Hans because he is the one who got tasked to take care of him.

(Adding an oc priest who is like Cale's personal priest and one or two personal knight that always protecting Cale like how Choi Han and Hilsman to Roksu. Oh, don't forget one trusted maid that in charge on what he eat and anything necessary.)

His group of five (including himself) are the only one who aware of this.

Cale more often is not present because his hazy mind that look like a scowl or unapproachable from outside.

Plot twist: reincarnator Roksu (after transmigrate/TCF) and WS (after TCF)

WS seeking Cale Henituse for revenge but found out the world is not the same as his previous one.

(WS is not under the curse or despair control anymore, so their enemy is another 'WS')

He observes this Cale Henituse and conclude that he is not the same person, rather it's Roksu who he searched.

He should take his revenge but he got distracted while observing Cale since he was a child.

In Roksu absent, WS try to come close to Cale and manage to gain his trust.

Let's say that Cale see him more as a brother than Roksu, because he (secretly) spent more time with him, even though he still loves Roksu unconditionally.

Note: it's always getting longer the more I want to finish it

#og!cale henituse #cale henituse #trash of the counts family #kim rok soo #au #rokcale #twin au #sick cale

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kabutoden · 2 months

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Keep getting asks from people curious about the lime clutches... thought I'd doodle some new ocs+ do some explaining! Troll twins hatch from the same egg and their symbols will be horizontally flipped. If their symbol is symmetrical, then they share. vvvvvvvvvv MORE UNDER READMORE vvvvvvvv

Lime twins have a mutation where one twin will leech the iron from the other, turning their own blood red and giving the other thinner skin and shell. The iron-deficient sibling will be more prone to nosebleeds and their lime blood will show brightly. A regular diet of iron will heal these issues with time, but their history may result in white patches and brighter skin.

Limes normally hatch in a full clutch of six eggs. Redbloods and iron-deficient trolls not limited just to twins--but with large clutches, the redblood draws iron from their siblings and surrounding eggs equally while developing. Iron-defecient grubs occur in clutchs randomly. Rarely mutant redbloods like Karkat hatches without a lime clutch and have extremely high iron levels.

They got a different theme than the cherub twins--their lusus is some kind of two-headed animal, one only tells lies and the other the truth. Which of these two should be the liar and which should be truth, and should their aspects (representing truth and lies) be void and light, mind and heart, or fanmade aspects literally truth and light?

#gold rule #homestuck #bugstuck #buggy trolls #limebloods #lore #buggy lore

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ratlordsarah · 2 months

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whispers got any fun headcanons on any wordgirl characters… or maybe if you’re really crazy a whole wordgirl oc?… or even a au… fades into the shadows of anonymity

THE WAY I CACKLED AND SCREAMED AHAGAH

I will not miss this opportunity 🫡

Headcannons/theories:

for two brains (there is a lot)

The way Steven’s brain is fused with squeaky’s caused part of his skull to crack off and while part actually popped off during the transformation, it also caused a fracture or two in his skull, so whenever the mouse brain pulsates, it is basically a mix of feeling like your head is going to explode, and the brain slightly pushing his skull, causing the fracture to never properly heal, because it gets slightly opened up again as it pulsates

another thing I’d like to point out is I feel like two brains would occasionally black out and also have a seizure every once in a while due to the electricity during the transformation. This also goes with the fact that he also could get frequent nosebleeds too, if he injured his brain in a certain way.

Also, a hot take of mine is that 2 brains is basically just Steven, but being mostly forced/controlled by squeaky, and of course, his dna is modified too.

another hot take is that it’s only his scalp hair that turned white (maybe a salt and pepper mix everywhere else?idk) because his eyebrows are still brown, and in ballad of Steve mcclean, he is shown to have brown facial hair too, so maybe it was only what touched the helmet in the experiment to turn white, and the rest of the den was sort of scattered everywhere

As a more silly hc of mine, I like to think that squeaky likes to play silly games where he attempts to freak Steven out every once in a while, by causing auditory and visual hallucinations, but Steven later just gets used to it

Also, due to the change in eyes, he’s probably a little color blind, so I like to think that he sees colors the way the color settings were inside the hospital in the house md pilot episode, or maybe just having him see more in a slight grey scale? Idk

The way I like to think squeaky takes control is via brain stem, so it’s basically where the mouse brain still has the brain stem and spinal cord attached to it, and it’s braided and tangled with Steven’s spinal cord, so if Steven and squeaky are fighting for control, it looks like two brains is fighting an invisible person in an arm wrestle or something.

Another hot take is that two brains is still able to remember everything as both Steven and two brains, so have fun with that one as you wish 💀

also, the mouse brain is obviously anatomically incorrect, in both looks and scale, so my theory on how this was achieved was during the transformation, the mouse brain almost blew up due to the electricity, so the brain is basically very inflamed and bloated. As far as the brain wrinkles go, I like to think that squeaky was originally genetically modified before Steven buying him, causing the mouse to basically have the same brain as a human, and squeaky was actively seeking revenge

as far. As cheese goes, I like to think squeaky is really the only one enjoying the cheese, while Steven is purely sick of it, like where after the first month of being two brains, he was just done with cheese, but he’s basically addicted to it due to squeaky. Also, I like to think that two brains can hardly eat anything that’s not cheese, and if he eats something that’s not cheese, he’d have to put so much cheese on that food to the point where you can’t even taste the stuff that isn’t cheese. besides orange juice, because squeaky likes that stuff. In other words, I also think that if he were to put something that’s not pure cheese in his mouth with the intention of eating it, he’d immediately throw up because squeaky doesn’t like rebellion (squeaky read about famous dictators once pre-transformation and decided that’s what he wanted to be)

also, because of only eating cheese, this is why he tries to have as wide of a variety as possible, to at least try and keep it a little interesting.

with that being said, I feel like if the mouse brain were removed, he’d probably puke at the sight of cheese, from how much he had to eat, and due to squeaky, even normal food would probably not be that appetizing either.

Also, in the show, he is built like a noodle, despite how much cheese he eats, so my theory is that he stays like this because the transformation made his metabolism go into overdrive, and usually, fast metabolism causes excess body heat, so if two brains were to take his lab coat off, you can literally use him as a radiator, because he’s gotta get that energy burnt off somehow lmao.

also, mice can’t sweat, so unless unter extreme circumstances, he’s basically just chilling radiating heat like it’s nothing because this genetic trait somewhat transferred during the transformation

Also, throughout the show, he is seen multiple times to worry a lot about how people think about him, (prime example is the episode ballad of Steve mcclean, but also you can see little dribbles of this trait in invasion of the bunny lovers, fill in, wordgirl & bobble boy, and rat trap) and honestly I think this is caused because of the obvious genetic changes that happened, so he obviously gets a lot of stares and weird looks in public, due to his appearance, so imo, he gets that from his appearance.

Due to the cheese consumption this guy does, I feel like he’d definitely have some problems in his digestive tract, as well as a vitamin deficiency for obvious reasons 💀

Also, I like to think that during the transformation, he was a week away from turning 30 (what a great way to start off your thirties XD)

Also, as far as Charlie and meatloaf, I have another hot take that they don’t live in the warehouse, and only two brains lives there. Someone could protest on that because in the new year episode, they are seen to sleep in the warehouse, but I like to think this as more of a thing that they only do every once in a while when two brains is planning a crime that requires them to be there really early. So essentially, they basically work based off of when dr two brains calls them over for the scheme. as Steven

As Steven, I like to think that he had two tuxedo cats. A long haired tux cat named Dennis, and a shorter haired girl tux cat nicknamed mags in public, but is truly named plunger

he was certainly a cat person pre-transformation. Look at him. (You cannot change my mind)

I also like to think that he has a huge cage set up for the lab rats and mice that he had to work with, as he felt really bad for having to use them, so he tried his best to compensate by spending a butt ton on of money on spoiling the rats, and getting a big place for them to stay. (I also am convinced he would name them after the first thing he sees them do, but doomed to the worst way possible, so he named a lab rat piss finger, or Ricky pee pee, and he has a whole long story on how he decided to name the lab rats those names

i like to feel like he was in a science trio with tubing and doohickey, and they were probably great friends

honestly idk how much I agree with the hc I made, but I’d like to feel like doohickey and Steven are probably cousins (blood related or not)

I’ve even pondered ideas like how I feel like Steven is a mix of Irish, Romanian, and maybe a little bit Italian (mother is Irish, and dad is an Italian Romanian mix)

also, I feel like Steven was actually friends with lrw when she was Beatrice, and they’d have some long conversations while he is having his science research copied and stuff

also, I like to think that he and Huggy were good friends,too, and would discuss ways to help wordgirl fight crimes sometimes

I feel like Steven and amazo guy were really good friends and the two would have karaoke night at least once a week, and they’d prolly also chill a lot cracking beers and playing with Steven’s cats and stuff like that.

I feel like he has a phd in engineering, some form of degrees in both biology and chemistry, and a minor in culinary arts

this man can make the best food in the world, but the way he makes it will make Gordon Ramsay cry

has an o

Charlie

The reason Charlie doesn’t talk is either due to nonverbal autism, or a certain condition that causes him to not be able to talk.

either way, Charlie is so silly and honestly I feel like two brains has a soft spot for him(same bro, same)

I like to feel like he is more of a silent observer, like heavy from tf2

amazo guy

Honestly, I like the hc that people think his name should be Adam so much to the point where sometimes I forget it’s not cannon💀

so yeah, his name is Adam

i like to think he also came from lexicon, but on his own accord when he was 21.

he has the same language powers as wordgirl, but just doesn’t make them his main focus.

hes obsessed with pizza and pizza rolls. He would literally rather have a pizza party by the city than 1million dollars.

he was actually fighting alongside wordgirl, and teaching her how to deal with villains until about a month before Steven turning into two brains

he ended up leaving to go and help another city , because she thought wordgirl was ready to fight the villains herself.

i like to think that he was an extreme back street boys and David Bowie fan, and whenever there was a ceremony for him, star man would certainly be playing

he secretly loves the song baby one more time by Britney Spears, but will tell no one

he is more of a dog person, and words cannot describe how badly he wants a golden retriever or German shepherd

wordgirl

She made it to earth with huggy when she was about 9 months old

the reason why lexiconians are so good with reading is that lexiconians use their powers to travel to neighboring planets and galaxies to help others in need, and they achieve this by being able to hyper-adapt to any different language, like to where the average lexiconian can learn Russian fluently in just a week

hot take but lexionite it’s doesn’t come from lexicon, but an enemy planet trying to make a weakness (I say this because it doesn’t make sense to have something from her home planet be her weakness, so it’s basically a hc of mine to not go bonkers over that lmao)

wordgirl is fluent in many other languages, like French, polish, Spanish, and mandarin

Due to her high iq, she still has the energy of a kid her age, although the mental age of a 30 year old, which is why she is so good at talking with other adults

Near perfect memory (why she can remember how she got to earth

early 10 year old at the time the show starts, and either young 12 year old, or almost 12 towards the end of the show

#word girl #dr two brains #steven boxleitner #amazo guy #charlie wordgirl #Gonna reblog with more info #I hit the max character limit lmao

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althea-and-alcestris · 6 months

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Infection Au

The results said the audience wants to hear my Infection Au so I shall deliver. (TW for blood, mentions of gore and su1cid3). I based this on the MLP Swamp Fever Au and the general Infection aus <3 Also this au includes a lot of ocs that belong to me and my friends

So the main plot is that a strange fungi was discovered on Sage Island that soon began to make people ill. At first everyone thought that it's just a regular magic fungi, however it quickly turned out to be an incorrect assumption. Those infected with the spores began to develop odd symptoms such as nosebleed, gums bleeding, bloodshot eyes, discoloration of fingers and soon the limbs as it spreads. By the ending stages of the infection, the patient will resemble more like a bleeding and decaying tree. The infection spreads through either bites or the spores of the fungi. Coming in contact with the infected without any safety gloves also results in infection. Those with high magic drive are able to remain sane for longer periods of time than those with lower or no magic drive at all.

It has been 4 weeks since the outbreak started. Idia and Ortho were able to leave Sage Island before STYX put the island on lockdown, sealing the dorm mirrors and the Dark Mirror so nobody can pass through. They're working on a cure. Meanwhile the ones stuck on Sage Island have started to adapt to the current situations, learning through several losses. Trein was one of the first victims of the outbreak, having been killed by the infected while trying to protect his students. Riddle, Vee, Marqu, Ellis, Mary, Fox and Jade have been terminated after they could no longer fight the infection and grew way too hostile. Cater, Dominico and Ace are injured from expeditions and attacks but uninfected. Azul and Leona are still under infection, Azul due to no access to any more human potions has returned to his merform and is now kept in a water tank until further notice. Leona is incredibly hostile and staff decided on termination. Trey, Lilia, Adamaris and Crowley are missing with no trace of where they could be. Malleus is infected but manages to maintain his sanity. Ruggie, Jack, Sebek, Alce, Thea, Allen, Deuce, Augustino, Chenfeng and Vargas are the ones on the expedition team who regularly leave campus (what has been turned into a main camp) to gather supplies, look for survivors, kill the wandering infected and clear areas. There are snipers (Thea and Allen), gatherers (Ruggie, Deuce, Augustino) and those who cover the team incase the infected are nearby (Sebek, Alce, Chenfeng). Jack and Vargas do most of the heavy lifting and Jack pulls the occasional carts with his UM. The ones in charge of terminating those who lose the battle with the infection inside NRC are Spider, Alce and Vargas. Vil is also infected but holds on, Rook wrote himself out of the expedition groups to stay with Vil while Epel along with Silver and Kalim are not allowed to join the expedition groups for their own reasons. Jamil stays with Kalim and Spider in NRC, Alto is in charge of the supplies that the expedition groups successfully gathered, Silver is distraught and anxious because of Lilia's absence which is why Sylas stay with him at all times. Floyd is his own person ever since Jade was put down and staff can't determine how much impact his brother's death had on him. He leaves a lot but never comes back infected. Ami and Crewel are the ones staying in NRC at all times to take care of the few children that were caught in the outbreak such as Karina and Eve. Sam is infected but resides in his shop while holding out.

As the story progresses, multiple of the canons and ocs fall. Cater dies to an infected wound, Leona is terminated, Thea asks to be put down by Sebek, Deuce is terminated by Alce due to the infection, Jamil is killed by the infected, Azul ends his own life by leaving the water tank in his merform, Alto is put down by Idia after infected severely, Vil is put down but he ends up killing Rook and Epel, Lilia is found dead, Spider is killed by the infected, Alce is killed by Allen who was infected, Allen ends his own life after realizing what he had done. Crowley is never found.

The last survivors end up being:

Ace, Trey (he is found), Ruggie, Jack, Floyd, Kalim, Idia, Ortho, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, Crewel, Sam, Vargas, Ami, Karina, Eve, Sylas and a couple more ocs.

It's a lot of angst and I know it's a bit jumbled right now but I'm in the making of the character files and I will post them one by one. If you have questions, you can ask away ^^

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icarusignite · 10 months

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These Violent Delights (1)

Chapter 1: Marigolds and Mayhem

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x OC

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Academic rivals, Coriolanus Snow and Artemis Highbottom must compete for the Plinth prize. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: Check out the masterlist for a better synopsis lol. As usual, don't be a ghost reader. I live for yalls comments/questions/concerns/reactions, even a keyboard smash is highly appreciated and encouraged ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Masterlist

Drip.

It was the third nosebleed of the night and Artemis was just about tired of it. She didn't even bother stemming the flow, allowing the carmine rivulets to trace an unhurried path from her nostrils to the marble below.

The hush of running water met the heavy rhythm of a beating heart, and there she stood—a lone figure, framed by the harsh edges of the sink, her grip upon it almost desperate. She could feel the sharpness imprinting into her skin, and yet still she clung, her skin stretched across her knuckles almost comically grotesque.

She watched the blood, in an almost detached sort of way. It could be art, she mused, the juxtaposition of sanguine against sterile white. A whispered revelation danced at the edge of her consciousness—anything could be art if you framed it the right way. Even the bloodiest of carnages. A spectacle, a thing to be enjoyed.

Artemis looked up, and her reflection stared back, menacingly. The mirror, an unforgiving oracle, revealed a distorted visage, one she both did and did not recognize. Her dark hair, cascaded in disarray, entangled in the aftermath of sleep's elusivity and her eyes harbored shadows akin to a painter's bruised palette. The reflection mocked, a cruel mimicry of the composed persona she so ardently sought to maintain.

Out of control.

Unbidden judgment pierced through her thoughts, a verdict she loathed to acknowledge.

No that could not be right.

Artemis Highbottom was always in control.

She despised this discordance, this disruption to her meticulously curated world. To her, it was anathema, but nature could not be controlled, and what was more natural than blood? Perhaps it was fitting, that this fundamental of humanity could not be dominated.

Blood could never be dishonest, and it had the power to reveal one's innermost truths.

With unyielding determination, Artemis scrubbed at the remnants of the crimson tide that painted her face, an act of restitution against the chaos that dared to invade her pristine sanctuary. Each abrasive stroke was an attempt to erase not just the physical residue but a deeper discord. She worked quietly, although there was no one else to hear. There was never anyone to hear her, her gilded halls always vacant, but Artemis spoke silence like a second language and old habits die hard. She spared her father a brief thought, wondering where he could possibly be at such a late hour but it didn't really matter. He just wasn't here. He never was.

Raw skin met her touch, and the blood, now vanquished, left in its wake a battlefield—a canvas of sacrifice for the sake of semblance.

The mess was an unwelcome intrusion there were far worse ways to be awoken. If she was busy cleaning up after her nosebleeds, then she wasn't sleeping, and if she wasn't sleeping, then she wasn't dreaming.

The walk to the Academy's Heavensbee Hall was a brisk one, although, in the sweltering heat, Artemis found herself increasingly short-tempered. She was going to be late, but she kept her pace measured. She would not arrive a panting sweaty mess like some savage. It had been a foolish idea, she knew that, but she had given her own driver the day off anyway, waiting instead for her father. His presence was expected, and she imagined it would have been a pleasant change of routine to accompany him. He was probably running late, she told herself. After all, she hadn't seen him return, and she would know, she was awake half the night.

The grand staircase up to the Academy could hold the entire student body, so it easily accommodated the stream of officials, professors, and students headed for the reaping day festivities. Artemis sped up, taking three steps at a time, while still attempting a casual dignity. Every other person she passed stopped to wave her down and exchange pleasantries, and although her impatience was rising, she kept a placid smile stretched across her lips as she greeted them all in turn. She nodded when they asked after her, and then nodded some more, albeit less enthusiastically when they asked about her father.

She made her way through an entry draped in black banners, then sprinted down a vaulted passage, and into cavernous Heavensbee Hall, where they would watch the broadcast of the reaping ceremony. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that she wasn't quite as late as she believed, and the official ceremony hadn't yet started. The hall was humming with faculty and students and a number of Games officials.

Avoxes wove through the crowd with trays of posca, a concoction of watery wine laced with honey and herbs. One passed by Artemis, and despite her parched throat, she waved him away. On principle, she avoided any and all intoxicants. It was stronger than most people thought, and in previous years she had seen many make complete fools of themselves by imbibing too deeply. Artemis would be damned if she allowed herself to lose control like that. That and given her father's dependence on morphling, she imagined she must be genetically predisposed to addiction.

In the great hall, she was once again forced to make her rounds, as faculty and students alike beckoned to introduce her to their circles. She eventually travelled past the hundreds of cushioned chairs set up for the occasion and onto the dais, where the communications professor, Satyria Click was regaling a mix of Academy professors and Games officials with some wild story. Amongst the gathered crowd was the biology instructor, Alfred Stanton, who stood off to the side, eyes deliberately wandering the area as if to make a show of his boredom. When his eyes caught sight of Artemis, he brightened, his face lifting in a smile as he waved her over.

Oh great, more greetings. If Artemis had to utter another false pleasantry, she'd lose her breakfast.

No, she wouldn't. She knew better than that. Besides, she was Professor Stanton's teaching aide, and it was quite literally in her job description to be at his beck and call.

When she arrived, she scowled internally. It was inevitable, she knew that, but she was hoping that at least today of all days, she'd be delayed in setting eyes upon the one person who held the power of ruining her mornings.

"Oh, Coriolanus!" Satyria drawled, as the blonde boy gave her the customary kiss on the cheek. "Here’s my star pupil.”

Artemis held no qualms against Satyria, not really. She was amusing and not overly uptight, one of the few professors who allowed students to call them by their first names. It was her teaching aide against whom she held a grudge.

Professor Stanton, not to be outdone, clapped his meaty hand on Artemis's shoulder, making her stagger. Maybe the man needed to lay off the weightlifting for a bit. He announced her presence to the circle enthusiastically, earning a scowl from Satyria.

"And Artemis, my star pupil. We were afraid we'd miss you this morning."

Artemis ducked her head bashfully, mumbling something about running late, but Professor Stanton only laughed boisterously, as he continued to speak.

Coriolanus Snow was seething. Well, no that was perhaps a little extreme. Artemis Highbottom did not deserve such a reaction from him. She didn't deserve the energy. When he hadn't seen her earlier today, he had deluded himself into thinking that she simply wouldn't come. She was never late after all, so the fact of the matter must be that she simply wasn't coming. With her gone, he could be the sole beneficiary of the crowd's attention, networking his way into their hearts.

Then he had seen her arrive, panting and slightly out of breath and he had to admit he marveled at the sight. Her coffee skin flushed and her hair thrown over her shoulder haphazardly as if she'd been running. Coriolanus had been amused, to say the least. He had hoped that she wouldn't wander over to his little corner, that he would be able to have Satyria's circle all to himself, but it was wishful thinking. People knew of him of course, being the son of Crassus Snow and all, but he realized that they tended to forget about him in her presence. After all, it was far easier to garner the good graces of one's father if he was still alive. Even if said father was Casca High-as-a-Kite-Bottom. Snow sniggered at the nickname, a creation of his own genius.

Almost as if she could read his mind, Artemis shot him a withering glare, and Coriolanus stiffened, standing straighter to shoot her one back. The circle had shifted, placing him right next to her and if he stretched his fingers, they'd brush against hers. Not that he'd want to of course. How utterly repulsive.

“Beautiful shirt. Where did you get such a thing?” Satyria was addressing Snow now, surveying him carefully.

He looked at the shirt as if surprised by its existence and gave the shrug of a young man of limitless options. They didn't have to know that all that was left to him was his name. The world still needed to think of Coriolanus as rich.

“The Snows have deep closets,” he said airily. “I was trying for respectful yet celebratory.”

Artemis held back a snort.

Celebratory, my ass.

The Snows' closets were as deep as their pockets, which was to say, containing all the depth of a bottlecap. Standing this close to him, she could almost smell the faint scent of dead marigolds and potato starch his shirt was emitting.

"Is something funny, Miss Highbottom?" Coriolanus turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

Just your pathetic fibbing skills, she wanted to say. Perhaps she had not been as discreet with her expressions as she thought she'd been because he was still waiting for an answer.

"Not at all, Mr. Snow," Artemis gave him one of her very best saccharine smiles. "I just agree with Satyria. That is indeed a lovely shirt."

Their professor beamed, happy to be validated.

“And so it is. What are these cunning buttons?” Satyria asked, fingering one of the cubes on his cuff. “Tesserae?”

“Are they? Well, that explains why they remind me of the maid’s bathroom,” Coriolanus responded, drawing a chuckle from her friends.

This was the impression he fought to sustain. A reminder that he was the rare person who had a maid’s bathroom — let alone one tiled with tesserae — tempered with a self-deprecating joke about his shirt.

He nodded at Satyria. “Lovely gown. It’s new, isn’t it?” He could tell at a glance that it was the same dress she always wore to the reaping ceremony, refurbished with tufts of black feathers. But she had validated his shirt, and he needed to return the favour.

As he did so, his eyes couldn't help but return to the figure at his side. While Satyria's renovated dress made him feel better about his own attire, brought to life only through his cousin Tigris's efforts, Artemis's had the exact opposite effect. It was new, almost obscenely so. Wasteful extravagance, he thought to himself bitterly. What a vain and shallow creature, but such was the case with all the Capitol women he supposed.

"What a wonderful ensemble, Artemis!" Satyria crowed once again. "You absolutely must give me the details of your dressmaker. Doesn't she look lovely, Coriolanus?"

Snow blinked. The question was directed at him, clearly, but he couldn't force the words out, even as his professor looked at him expectantly.

“Elegant,” he finally stated blandly.

Liar.

Artemis's eyes flashed at him triumphantly, almost as if calling him out.

The adults wandered off, and their company was replaced by that of their classmates. Arachne Crane slipped her arm into Artemis's as soon she was within range, and Artemis sent her a smile that was only slightly less false than the one she had been wearing all morning.

"Finally, and here I thought our star pupils would be too busy to give us humble folk time of day," she complained.

"Don't ever use the word humble, Arachne," the boy to her right, Festus Creed, scoffed. "It does not suit you."

Arachne rolled her eyes and sipped her drink petulantly.

"Have you tried this lamb, it's scandalous!"

The only thing scandalous is the president's son eating with his hands, Artemis thought to herself, but she knew better than to say it out loud.

Lucky for her, Festus didn't.

"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers, Felix," he chastised. "What, daddy not teach you table manners?"

"Maybe he would have if he wasn't so busy running the country!" Felix retorted.

The conversation veered off in the direction of the Plinth Prize, and their eyes were drawn to the family standing off to a corner, speaking amongst themselves.

"Who would have thought that you could buy yourself into the capitol?" Felix muttered derisively.

"You can buy god himself, provided you have the resources," Artemis finally commented.

"You can't buy class though. Did you see Sejanus's mother's outfit," Festus paused for dramatic effect before sniggering. "Sorry, his ma's."

At least he had a mother who cared for him, which is more than Artemis could say for the imbeciles around her exhibiting motherless behaviour.

"Dress a turnip in a ballgown and it'll still beg to be mashed," Snow jeered.

Artemis scoffed. And here was the biggest motherless moron of them all.

"Interesting that you of all people should say that, Coriolanus," she eyed him carefully. Gone were the honorifics she had addressed him by earlier in front of the professors. This was a battlefield and there were no pleasantries in war.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

The two stared at each other, neither wanting to be the one to look away first and their classmates glanced between them uneasily.

Eventually, Coriolanus blinked, his ears burning, and Artemis flashed him a grin. If he wasn't thinking about carving the smile from her face, he might have thought it suited her.

If it was a battle of wills, Artemis was a born victor.

Their conversation about Sejanus came to a halt when he approached them. He didn't bother greeting any of them but he smiled at Artemis, which she heartily returned. Arachne shot her a questioning glance, but if the Capitol was a hierarchy, Artemis outranked her, and therefore did not have to answer to her.

Coriolanus eyed their interaction sullenly. He was a charmer, it was the only currency he had access to after all, and over the years he had made his best efforts to charm the Dean's enigmatic daughter. Perhaps he thought it'd make Dean Highbottom detest him a little less, if he had Artemis's favour, but although it appeared that she shared nothing else with her father, she shared in his disdain for Coriolanus. There was nothing he could do to endear himself to her, and he had long since stopped trying.

It especially irritated him, that it was Sejanus of all people who had managed to make friends with her. He did not even need the networking opportunity it provided. Snow observed the brunette boy now, his soft charcoal gray suit that reeked of money.

Sejanus’s father was a District 2 manufacturer who had sided with the president. He had made such a fortune off munitions that he’d been able to buy his family’s way into a life in the Capitol. The Plinths now enjoyed privileges that the oldest, most powerful families had earned over generations. It was unprecedented that Sejanus, a district-born boy, was a student at the Academy, but his father’s lavish donation had allowed for much of the school’s postwar reconstruction. A Capitol-born citizen would have expected a building to be renamed for them. Sejanus’s father had only requested an education for his son.

For Coriolanus, the Plinths and their kind were a threat to all he held dear. The newly rich climbers in the Capitol were chipping away at the old order simply by virtue of their presence. It was particularly vexing because the bulk of the Snow family fortune had also been invested in munitions — but in District 13. Their sprawling complex, blocks and blocks of factories and research facilities, had been bombed to dust. District 13 had been nuked, and the entire area still emitted unlivable levels of radiation. The center of the Capitol’s military manufacturing had shifted to District 2 and fallen right into the Plinths’ laps. When news of District 13’s demise had reached the Capitol, Coriolanus’s grandmother had publicly brushed it off, saying it was fortunate that they had plenty of other assets. But they didn’t.

Sejanus had arrived on the school playground ten years ago, a shy, sensitive boy cautiously surveying the other children with a pair of soulful brown eyes much too large for his strained face. When word had gotten out that he’d come from the districts, Coriolanus’s first impulse had been to join his classmates’ campaign to make the new kid’s life a living hell. He was glad he didn't because when Casca Highbottom's daughter befriended him, it put an end to all public acts of cruelty. They still mocked him in private, but that couldn't be helped. His district blood simply invited the scorn. Coriolanus's decision to simply ignore the boy had only reinforced his image. The other Capitol children took it to mean that baiting the district brat was beneath him, and Sejanus took it as decency. Neither take was quite accurate, but both worked in his favour.

"Sejanus," Festus grimaced. "You made it to the reaping for once."

"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked," the brunette boy responded.

"Spill it, who won the prize?" Arachne inquired.

Sejanus scoffed. Like any of these rich Capitol children even needed it.

"Oh no, I'm not going to ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they all love his money. You know what that's like, don't you Arachne?"

Arachne scowled, leaning up to whisper in Artemis's ear about what a stuck-up thing he was. Artemis did not grace her with a response, but when the bell rang, and the students began to assemble in front of the dais, she took the opportunity to slip her arm out of Arachne's. Sejanus fell into step beside her then, taking the opportunity to slip a bottle of water into her hands.

"And this is for?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I know you can't stand the posca. Thought you might need something to drink, given all the talking they have you doing around here."

"And you thought I couldn't get myself some water?"

"I thought you shouldn't have to," he rubbed his neck ruefully. "Although I realize I might be a little late."

"I appreciate the gesture anyway. Thank you, Sejanus."

Artemis granted him her only real smile of the day. His sheepish smile reminded her of the day they first met, when this district boy with the cloddish accent first wandered up to her, offering her his bag of gumdrops.

She followed him to where a special section of chairs, six rows by four, had been set up for the mentors. To her chagrin, he took a seat to the right, leaving the only vacant seat next to one Coriolanus Snow. She felt the childish desire to kick his chair out from under him as he went to sit down, but shook away the traitorous thought. It was beneath her.

When her father began to speak, Artemis suppressed a sigh of exasperation. Dean Casca Highbottom, the man credited with the creation of the Hunger Games, presented himself to the students with all the verve of a sleepwalker, dreamy-eyed and, as usual, doped up on morphling. Artemis zoned out as he went on his usual spiel of how the Hunger Games, his displeasure at the whole event evident in his tone, although perhaps that was just the drugs talking.

"There has been a change this year. One final assignment to prove your worth, because the esteemed citizens of the Capitol have grown bored of the Games and simply aren't watching anymore. And if the Games are to continue at all, there must be an audience," he continued rambling. "Head Gamemaker Dr. Gaul has stepped in to incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flair. Starting with you. The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades...but by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games."

Nervous whispers fluttered among the students, as they exchanged uneasy glances. A subtle unease threaded its way through the crowd as they leaned in, both captivated and unsettled by the Dean's cryptic words.

Artemis had been aware of this turn of events, and so did Sejanus, as it was his family's money involved, but she took great satisfaction at the dumbfounded expression on Coriolanus's face when he heard the news. It made the dourness of the entire situation as a whole much more bearable.

"Your goal is to turn these children into spectacles, not survivors," Dean Highbottom announced.

Artemis was right. Anything could be art. Anything could be turned into a spectacle, even the most depraved of carnages, and what greater carnage was there than the Hunger Games?

Artemis did not need the Plinth Prize. She imagined her father would finance her higher education as he did all her other luxuries, but perhaps he might look at her differently if she won it. Perhaps it might gain his admiration. Perhaps he might respect her if she earned something of her own for once. Perhaps he might finally return home sometimes.

She did not care much for the Games, in the sense that they held no significance for her, so far removed were they from her daily life. Her classmates were a varied spectrum on where they stood, ones like Sejanus speaking out firmly against the ritual, and others enjoyed the butchery, the slaughtering of district lives. Artemis simply did not care. They were irrelevant, but if it meant gaining her father's approval, Artemis would make herself care.

As the large screens in front of them came to life with life footage from the reapings, Dean Highbottom began to recite the mentor assignments.

"District One, boy, goes to . . .” he squinted at the paper, trying hard to focus. “Glasses,” he mumbled. “Forgot them.” Everyone stared at his glasses, already perched on his nose, and waited while his fingers found them. “Ah, here we go. Livia Cardew.”

Livia’s pointed little face broke into a grin and she punched the air in victory, shouting “Yes!” in her shrill voice. She had always been prone to gloating. As if the plum assignment was solely a reflection on her, and not on her mother running the largest bank in the Capitol. Purely by chance, Artemis exchanged a cursory glance with Coriolanus just then, secretive like a private joke, which left her feeling quite unsettled.

Coriolanus felt increasing desperation as Dean Highbottom stumbled through the list, assigning each district’s boy and girl a mentor. After ten years, a pattern had emerged. The better-fed, more Capitol-friendly districts of 1 and 2 produced more victors, with the fishing and farming tributes from 4 and 11 also being contenders. Coriolanus had hoped for either a 1 or a 2, but neither was assigned to him, which was made more insulting when Sejanus scored the District 2 boy, and Artemis the girl.

Unlike Livia, Artemis received news of her good fortune with tact, pushing her sheet of raven hair over her shoulder as she studiously made note of her tribute in her binder. Their brief moment of camaraderie during Livia's outburst was forgotten as she shot him a smug smirk and he seethed.

District 4 passed without mention of his name, and his last real chance for a victor — the District 11 boy — was assigned to Clemensia Dovecote, daughter of the energies secretary. Something was amiss when a Snow, who also happened to be one of the Academy’s high-honour students, had gone unrecognized. Coriolanus was beginning to think they had forgotten him — perhaps they were giving him some special position? — when, to his horror, he heard Dean Highbottom mumble, “And last but not least, District Twelve girl . . . she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

#coriolanus x oc #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #sejanus plinth #sejanus x oc #sejanus x reader #katniss everdeen #academic rivals

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seth-whumps · 2 months

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hello, i'm knight anon from the last ask! thank you so much for your detailed reply, it's really helpful! 🩶 now i know what to think about and consider while figuring out my ocs' story! i didn't realize that my oc can be a blacksmith too. that would be interesting and i'll keep it in mind!

i knew about high and low fantasy but i didn't know there's also high and low magic and they can be combined, so that part was very interesting!

if you'd like to share your medieval prompts, i'd love to read them! 🩶

I'm glad I could help, anon!! And I'm also happy to give you some of my favorite medieval scenarios, too!

-> Malicious poisonings towards innocent characters. Think, your whumpee drank from a cup someone else was supposed to get and is now poisoned. The symptoms can be wild, the scenarios desperate and the stakes high--lots of panic and worry to top it all off.

-> Creatures. Wild animal attacks from monsters with terrifying abilities. You can use venomous bites against a whumpee, you can restrain them or suffocate them, impale them or blind them. Basically anything you want, you can justify with "It's part of this new creature's abilities".

-> Weapons! There's so much to explore with all the different kinds of blades and blunts. Particularly the aesthetic of blood on metal reminiscent of rust, whether armor or swords or a silver ring--something about that imagery just hits different.

-> Breaking royal innocence. The horror a noble experiences when they finally witness a terrible thing they've been sheltered from their whole life. A prince can train all they want, but the first time they see a creature tearing open flesh will be a memory they cannot forget.

-> Public punishments. Perhaps niche, but the image of dragging a previously wondrous knight out of the dungeons, chaining them to a post, and commencing a whipping or a public execution is just so deeply rooted in medieval aesthetics for me. All the formality and all of the filth at once.

-> Magic whump. Depending on the setting, hitting a whumpee with a mental attack and giving them a crippling headache and a nosebleed is one of my favorite things to do. On top of that, hypothermia and frostbite while wielding ice magic, burns and heatstroke with fire, lichtenburg scars and temporary blindness and ALL of the side effects...

-> Betrayal, redemption and forgiveness arcs. Perhaps a bit more long-term in setup, but I do love the crushing realization that a close ally cannot be trusted. I love the iron-forged willpower a villain gets when they decide they don't deserve to be forgiven, but they endeavor to be better anyway.

-> Old school medicine! Give me the hands-on approach, the desperate attempts at cleanliness without true sterilization. Herbs and poultice, pastes and numbing plants, self-done stitches and clear stream water on blackened wounds. Wrap the broken ribs and keep marching, soldier. Home's not for a while yet.

I hope this isn't too many, anon, but I truly love the chained nobility that comes with the crown. Feel free to request more whenever! I had a blast coming up with these!

#whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump prompt #ask answered #whump ask #medieval whump #arthurian whump #knight whump #royal whump #royal whumpee #knight whumpee #whipping whump #public punishment whump #blood tw #execution tw #tw poison

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 month

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Please tell me about your ocs!! IM HUNGRY GRRR

helloow omg ! im so honored you want to know more about my ocs aaahhh!! :D my moot @kovu-bunnbunn also wanted to know more so i figured i could do it now !!

i have a bunch of ocs but I’ll just talk about my main oc ryoko right now !!

her full name is ryoko ‘007’ aizawa. I’ll explain the 007 in a minute !! she’s aizawa’s adoptive daughter.

her parents (her dad more specifically, her mom was more of a bystander) are both from very wealthy families and merged. Her parents had an arranged marriage and after some chatter to get to know each other they’re conversations take a little bit of a turn..and inbetween bonding about their favorite movies oop! A lil comment about how the world would he better off without heroes..oh you think so too ? Well look at that, we have so much in common!! long story short they both decide that the want to create something that will be able to take down all might and the entirety of hero society and it’s restrictions,,and I’m pretty sure you can guess what that something was ! nine months later ryoko is born yipeee…!

during her entire pregnancy ryokos mom went through some quirk experiments (sponsored by doctor garaki 👍) because they knew that with both their quirks alone they wouldn’t be able to create a super weapon. (ryokos dad has an overhaul type quirk, and her mom has a healing sort of quirk) so they did some experiments hoping something would change in the womb, and when she was born the kept on doing experiments until she started manifesting a quirk w no attributes from her either of her parents and manifested a fully different quirk than she was originally meant to have,

since she had those experiments done ryokos body adapted to be able to handle her quirk, but it’s not perfect unfortunately.

heres a simple little chart of how it works ! (BTW I DO NOT DRAW LIKE THIS ANYMORE THIS IS OOOOLLLLDD😭😭😭😭)

her quirk is a lot like neijires as in she uses her own energy and converts it into power ! The amount she uses shows in her hair :3 ryoko tho, unlike neijire can do multiple things from sending blasts, to powering herself up to make parts of her body stronger, to making it hard objects like stepping stones she uses to navigate and weapons like dual swords or chains to restrain ppl !! she can also drain other peoples energy (and from her surroundings, but thats only in 100% mode ! ) because of the fact that her body had been modified, ryoko can carry more energy into herself than regular people which is why she can drain energy without any major drawback to a certain extent ! However, her drawbacks are way more severe, overusing her quirks makes her sleepy and drowsy, it gives her nosebleeds and very worse case scenario if she were to have too little or too much energy she could die :0 !!

(ALSO !! I lil extra tidbit: ryoko is capable of sensing peoples energy’s if she concentrates hard enough, it works better if shes seen them before, but she can sense all the energy in humans in her surroundings or if she has a picture, tho it’s slightly weaker and is limited to one person at a time. This is a form of remote viewing that i gave her bc of my obsession w stranger things i had !!😭)

its a pretty powerful quirk that her parents and other scientists knew they could use well, but unfortunately for them ryoko ended up liking heroes (she was barely educated, so she had no idea that she felt admiration for heroes and especially all might, she was alsovaguely aware that she was taught to do the wrong things, because she’d be forced to use her quirk on robots/ small animals in some cases.)

her parents weren’t supposed to feel any affection towards her so they decide to just give her a code name 007 :D which i realized a little too late was the same as james bond..woops😭

anyways fast forward to the biggg “earthquake” incident, shes rescued by a group of heroes, eraser head included :D unfortunately shes detained in tartarus since her being in a constant state of panick set her quirk off and she couldn’t stay in a regular hospital so ryoko has canonically been to tartarus as a inmate at the age of 4 😭! Oh forgot to mention this, but ryoko got her quirk veryy early due to the experiments done before her birth and after.

since ryoko cant control her quirk an aizawa can cancel them, they’re a pretty good matchup !! Fast forward some more and shes living with him ! he adopts her and lets her go to school, where she meets izu n katsuki and they quickly become friends because. Of COURSE. My main ocxcanon ship is a CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS ONEEE😭😭😭😭will i ever stop. raise your hand if you’ve ever seen that one comin

lmk if you want to know more about her or other ocs ! I didn’t wanna ramble TOOO much so this is all the basic info!! plus some drawing of her

two of them r completely credited to horikoshi cus i used ochaco n hagakure as a base !! I accidentally have two in normal mode and two in 100% or overdrive mode as she calls it (tho one of them is a soul eater au :3) ! Both made by me :3

Much luvvv xxxx!!! And thank you Sooo much for your ask again💗💗💗💗

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