#rybko

[obsessedmeninjeans]

Dalius Rybko

[kitsu-smiec]

They are lucky I love em.

I really do tho :3

[nacholmo23]

Dalius Rybko

[undiscovered-horizon]

Halsin would looooove Slavic languages because there are so many nature-themed terms of endearment and they aren't inherently sexual: kitten [kotku], bunny [króliczku], little mouse [myszko], little frog [żabko], little bird (rather towards children) [ptaszyno], little flower [kwiatuszku], little sun [słoneczko], little bear [misiu], little fish [rybko/rybeńko], little rose (very rarely used) [różyczko], little butterfly [motylku], little gander (old-timey) [gąsko], little ladybug (rare) [biedroneczko], little hare [zajączku], little weasel [łasiczko], little seal [foczko], little tit/titmouse [sroczko], little doe [sarenko]

EDIT: added Polish words for your convenience and curiosity! :)

[practically-an-x-man]

for the comfort-y prompts: Vivienne/Wojchek for 2?

Oooooh thank you so much!!

2. Tracing along old scars and reminiscing about that time in the past

30 Prompts on the Comfort Side of Hurt/Comfort

____ Marked Flesh

Word Count: 866 Content Warnings: hurt/comfort, established relationship, mildly suggestive, references to injury/violence, OC x canon

Crossposted on AO3

____

"Where did you get this one?" Vivienne murmured, running her fingers down her husband's bare side. There was a scar there, pale and rough, stark against the surrounding skin. Wojchek shivered at the touch of her fingers, muscles twitching and jumping just under his skin. He was slender by nature, and would never be as broad as some of the others on his ship, but years of sailing had put muscle on his frame all the same.

"Friction from the ropes," he responded, "Would have fallen to the sea if I had not held on, but it tore my flesh when I did."

"And this one?" Vivienne continued, walking its fingers only a few inches further along to a short, thin scar along his ribs.

"Angry crewmate. With a very sharp knife."

"Hm." she mumbled, "You need better stories. Or a better way to tell them."

"My life is not interesting enough for you, perełko?"

"You are plenty interesting, my love." it said, and shifted to peer at his hands. There were scars there too, carved into his palms and dusted across his knuckles from years of toiling on the sea. "But you are awfully dry, for someone surrounded by so much water. Tell me about these."

They were mundane wounds, she thought. There was no real story to them: a slip of his work knife here, a burn from a rope there, years of calluses built from manual labor. If he had no story for his vengeful crewmate, or his near-fall from the mast, surely he would have no story for these. Much as it loved its husband, he was not one for many words.

"Work on the ship," Wojchek said, then offered her a tilted look and something like a smile, "It seems every day I earn myself another scar."

Vivienne smiled. That was his mimicry of the stories she herself would tell, with its theatrical words and aggrandized metaphors, and it knew he was teasing it.

"Better," it said, "Though your stories could still use work."

"You are the wordsmith, rybko. My work is done with my hands."

Those roughened palms found her waist and traveled the smooth expanse of her skin, lacking all hesitance or modesty. Even with such an illusion of humanity cast over itself, its skin was soft and unblemished.

"You have no scars." Wojchek murmured, in some sort of awe or confusion, "No marks."

"It is the magic that binds me," Vivienne replied, and drew his fingers down to the space just beneath her sternum, "I was speared here, once. I mistook a whaling boat for a cargo ship like your Demeter, and the crew saw the shadow of a beast beneath the water. Rather than the whale they sought, their harpoon found me. I escaped narrowly, and only because I had the intellect to recognize their weapon for what it was, but my blood was spilled to the water."

"You survived. And with no scars."

"Narrowly," Vivienne replied, "And only thanks to the magic of the sea. It still took time to heal, and I was weak for some time until I did. But the water always brings me back."

It guided his hands lower, down to the slopes of its hips and thighs - what would be firm muscle and slick scales instead hidden under a facade of soft, delicate skin.

"You remember this one," Vivienne said, ignoring the way her husband's hands wanted to keep exploring, "A feeding frenzy. I was swarmed in the water, surrounded by sharks. My blood only frenzied them further, and I could smell their pheromone whipping them into a fury. Had I not come aboard the ship, they'd have torn me to pieces. Perhaps the water would bring me back even from that, but it was such a threat that I could not trust even such magic to spare my life."

"I saw your wounds," Wojchek agreed, and a darkness fell across his face. Vivienne found it amusing - she was animated by magic beyond his every comprehension, and had escaped death time and time again, and yet he frowned at any thought of her in pain. His fingertips ghosted across its skin, following the memory of its wounds.

"But no scars," he continued, "It is as if you have not lived."

Some men prided themselves on their wives' fair skin. A lack of blemishes meant a lack of hardship, which in turn signified that they as men could provide well for their families. The men were rough, their wives and children were soft, that was the way of a well-balanced family.

But not on the sea.

On the water, scars were a mark of pride. Skin was cracked and crossed and marked with ink, and every mark was a story. To have few scars was a trait of a greenhand, one who had not yet devoted his body to his work. To have no scars at all was not only novice but downright strange. It was not the same mark of honor that it was on land.

"Oh, my love," Vivienne said, wearing a smile that betrayed what lay beneath her soft, unblemished surface, "I have lived enough for both of us."

[islandiis]

Fannar sits back a little bit, and he opts to wrap his arms around himself. It's... Well, it's not the most comforting tone, but — it's something. It's comforting, in some way. He might not be succeeding, but — he tries. He does. In between each line of his journal, there is evidence that he tries. And he's still here, isn't he? Yeah.

"Yeah," He finally cedes, with a thin exhale, and then a sheepish laugh as he pushes one hand through his hair. He still looks troubled, though, and he lets his eyes close with a sigh before he adds, "I'm sorry, though. This isn't — you shouldn't have to deal with this."

And she shouldn't, but... The fact that she's here, and listens, and that she hasn't... well — Fannar doesn't know exactly what he had feared. Did he expect Rainer to echo every sentiment in his own mind? Expect her to tell him he's pathetic, and get up and leave? No. He knows she cares; his self-rejection, is... it's his own thing. He knows better than to expect she'd reject him, it's just... It's complicated.

Fannar mimics her gesture by looking to the fridge, eyebrows raised, but he doesn't say anything about the idea of the explosives being there. He doesn't even know what they'd look like. Plastic, presumably? Is it soft, sticky...? What colour even is it? Either way, a change of topic - and a distraction - are very welcomed. "Eh..." He blinks down at his hands, and then raises one to push his hair back. "Well — Yes, s-sort of? They come up in a few of our sagas — I can't remember them all, right now, it's been a while since I read them, but — Ála Flekks saga, a man was turned into a wolf after he rejected the love of a troll. But there are no wolves in Iceland, so I think a lot of our lore was sort of... Imported?"

The question makes Fannar's eyebrows furrow as if he's confused by it. He's always figured that Rainer was involved in... well, areas, that he is entirely unfamiliar with. But he doesn't really know details, and Fannar is quite happy with that. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and it's really none of his business in the first place. He isn't sure what Rainer does, exactly, or has done in the past — from the sound of it, and what little pieces he's picked up along the way, Rainer doesn't work an office job or anything.

But, the bigger question is: Would it matter? If it were anyone other than his friend, he would almost certainly condemn whatever is happening — but it's not anyone other than his friend. It's Rainer. Hypocritical, maybe, but that's just how it is. He doesn't really want to know details, whatever it is Rainer gets up to, but his answer is simple.

She reads him like a book, and he coughs into one hand before he curls back around his mug, and stares hard into the dwindling coffee inside. She's right — she's right. What should he say? Not saying anything feels like the wrong move, as comfortable as it might be.

"I—..." He coughs into one elbow again, then sits back in his chair, splaying his hands against his thighs. "I don't... know how to change things. I'm too scared to change things." He curls his fingers into the fabric of his pajama bottoms, then releases it and reaches up to press his face into his hands, elbows against the edge of the table. "I-I don't feel good, but this is all I know how to do. I don't know how to stop being scared, so I can't... you know— I don't even know if I want to change things, because it is so scary, and I feel like I'm just..." Pathetic. Weak. Cowardly. Inadequate. Selfish— "I don't know. I just feel... bad."

He sits back a little bit, but clasps his hands together in front of his mouth. His eyes are averted for a minute, as if processing what exactly he had just said, before that confused look returns, and he searches Rainer's expression as he tries to figure out how to reply. After a minute of silence, he just manages, "Are they... real?"

@fangmother

[chopinski-official]

*wakes up crying* Frycek!!!!

Emilka, moja rybko, what’s wrong? I’m here, don’t fret!

[444namesplus]

#36

Abgyfnu Addopmu Adfyfgu Adpotba Advunhe Afruzsi Aftonde Afvepsy Agninfy Agrudsy Ahgobvo Ahhefku Ahkyvko Ahzolmy Akfahra Akfotte Akkefse Aktimma Aldehky Alvitdy Amfarda Amfetfi Amlohvo Amnihzu Angamly Angudgo Aplenfe Aprolne Arfaftu Argozgu Arkopzo Arzinri Asfunzu Asvottu Asvykmu Atnebpy Atpevky Avmurti Azfyhho Azhysru Azkupmo Badpe Bedvu Belzi Benvo Bifsy Bikpy Bilgy Bokbi Bolza Bomfa Bozze Bufgo Bumfy Bypli Dabpy Dahme Dephu Dezni Dimde Dimpo Dotfe Dotfu Dotmy Dudsa Dytga Dytmo Dytve Ebbamma Ebkyffi Ebmebgu Ebnunre Eddevko Edgytve Edpibdu Edvytza Efbofdu Effygfy Efkednu Efmegni Efvipvy Egkahku Egkybhy Ehfavzo Ehtukpa Ehvufge Ehzefgu Ekfatgy Eklifre Emfotly Emkybno Erfudka Erguvte Errykva Ervufsy Esridpu Etfilfo Etfuhze Etvegva Etzutma Evbizmu Evlypfa Ezfapgu Ezkozre Ezsirto Fadru Fasfo Fazfy Fekza Fenze Fesso Fibsa Figke Fodda Fofge Foksu Fonsi Fopsy Fotgo Fotlo Fufta Fugka Fuhke Fulzu Fumki Furvu Fygma Fymbu Fyrni Fyrsu Fyvvu Fyzma

Galra Garny Gepko Gesra Gevpy Gikgi Gikgy Godma Gorme Gurfe Gutzo Guzno Gyfbi Gygly Gymzy Hakfa Hebne Hesfy Hokne Hovzo Hugzy Hyvhu Hyzda Ibdufbe Ibmyfly Ibtihka Ibvespo Idbupki Idkomki Idporfu Iffetsy Ifhefdy Ifkynbi Ifnyzmy Ifpivbe Ifrozna Ifvimmu Ifzezze Ighykfu Ignozmo Igzezre Ihhorru Ihlorfi Iklitga Ilfingi Ilfivsi Inbosry Indalbo Inkolgo Inpinmi Invivdu Irbimpi Irzomva Isbuzdi Isfofla Isfytme Issumpa Ithufhe Itkafdu Ittezro Itzuhba Ivsihke Izdobfu Izsedbo Izsybsy Izvibpy Kadry Kamga Kehpo Kemsu Ketlu Kikto Kipvy Kodbo Kofby Kofsu Korke Kosra Kupfe Kuply Kymva Ladga Lafka Lantu Legfo Lelfu Lerka Levfa Lilga Lirnu Lofve Lolni Lommi Luffu Lumho Lunbo Lupsa Luttu Lyslo Mafsi Mahni Mamhy Mekly Mibfy Mibso Mipni Modny Morbu Movda Mubde Mubra Mutbo Mydku Mylhu Naffe Nampe Napla Napva Nevhe Nezto Nibmo Ninka Nohze Nopzu Novlo Nufva Obkably Obkaldy Odnahba Ofbismy Ofdevhu Offobdo Ofhukre Ofryppo Ofsanhe Ofsodmo Ogfafmu Ogfehfi Ohmynku Ohvipgy Okdozki Okfodfe Onfiksu Onpodzi Ontopzu Onzadpo Opbynvo Opzytso Ormutle Orvefdy Osfulfy Osgefzo Otgulpu Otsyvtu Ovbytho Ozbofgo Ozgombe Ozmulro Oznubge Ozrigny Pafna Perde Pinbe Pitty Podvi Porhe Puhdy Puhfu Pukhe Purdi Puthy Pybzi Pyhdy Pyzfu Raffe Rafta Rafty Ragri Ratbu Razfa Redto Rekpa Repti Rinfa Rizdy Rokli Ropny Rotta Rozte Rumla Rurdo Ruvna Rybko Rybso Rynhe Ryrsi Ryzhi Sabby Sakvu Salhe Salny Sarzo Sazno Sezla Sigsu Sihmo Sikso Sitvi Sovlu Sugna Suldi Titve Toffu Togko Tokbu Tugze Tybmo Tydbo Tygfo Tymsu Ubkakdo Ubpatny Ubpofzu Udfuspe Udgoshi Udkebli Udlehfe Udrydry Udviddu Ufbamfa Uffadmi Uflervy Uflytny Ugdanha Ugrazmo Uhvezni Ulbutzy Ulpifgy Ummovma Umsehze Unfolbu Upbalmy Upgihmu Usbolla Ustiffy Usvofga Uszaffi Utsolhu Utzofvo Uvdenmu Uvkohsa Uzlefpu Vabgu Vapte Vefvo Velre Vitdy Vokfi Vosvy Vozky Vulfy Vulhe Vupro Vyffa Vyslo Vyzni Ybrislo Ydkatsa Ydnurli Yfdeplo Yfmylge Yftafga Yfvivve Yfzefto Yhkitfa Yhzelha Yknidzu Yknodse Ynmygba Yntebhe Ynvosgy Ynzabzo Yprybby Ypvoghu Yrdonhy Yrlazhu Yrmomlo Yrrabti Yrtivlo Ysledbi Ysmymno Ysvimga Ytdapzu Ytmukpo Yvdufvo Yvfekze Yvlifza Yvvaszi Yvzubtu Zahhu Zasru Zebpo Zepba Zimfe Zogfa Zohke Zudle Zugke Zumbi Zydzu Zygra Zykdi

[lieselotte-sky]

I prd zlatá rybko. Jistého ing. Koudelku ze Svitávky přejel čtyřikrát kamion a vždycky to přežil…akorát měl pokaždé trochu sešrotované kolo a vozejk.

Pro neznalé, ing. Koudelka je tamní vágus, kaskadér a dobrodruh. Snad by z něj byl býval byl i normální člověk, ale začal chlastat (což je tam obvyklé) a neuměl to (což už tam až tak obvyklé není). Důsledky pochopitelně přišly v podobě lidí, kteří ho stáhli na svoji úroveň a udolali chlastem, takže začal vyvádět strašlivé věci, přičemž tito lidé až tak snadno nezemřou. Mezi jeno nejlepší kousky patřil tajemný výbuch v ubytovně, při kterém explodovala přehřátá propanbutanová láhev, což následně ing. Koudelku vytrhlo ze spaní a nemilosrdně prohodilo zdí k sousedům. Podotýkám, že se mu u toho nic nestalo, pouze z toho byl nějaký vyděšený, vypotácel se ven, kde se, v momentě, kdy k té pohromě přijeli hasiči, jednoho ze zasahujících zeptal, zda „nemá oheň“, na což mu tento odpověděl „ti hoří chalupa wole, tak si připal“, což ing. Koudelka následně udělal. Pak ho též několikráte přejel kamion, když po silnici I/43 táhnul za svým kolem vláček vozejků se šrotem a páchal i mnohé jiné šílené věci. Bylo mi ho poznat osobně, inu hodný člověk s nešťastným osudem. To už tak na světě bývá.

Myslím, že jednoho dne napíšu něco jako Divnolidi Boskovicka protože mi většinu z nich bylo poznat osobně. K většině z nich nebyl osud milosrdný, ale nakonec se s tím naučili žít. Jistě, je to spodina, ale i tito lidé utváří specifický obraz doby a tudíž by neměli být zapomenuti.

jak já miluju české tramvaje

[obsessedmeninjeans]

Dalius Rybko

[kitsu-smiec]

Long nights are always less dark together.

I find the idea that so many cultures bring light to their homes during the winter fascinating. Those little things bind humanity together and fill me with so much joy when I think about it. So, I decided to add a similar concept to the little world I've been developing: little light traditions during the longest night of the year. The mini-comic also is to build my characters and play around with what a family can be. Lepa (the rabbitfolk) was born into a small village but was isolated for being different. While her blood family's fur changed colors with the season, Lepa was frozen in time due to her lack of pigmentation. Later, she met Vilhelm and Manado, who brought her into their family. The rest is history.

[pigulki]

Czym jest dla ciebie sukces Rybko?

Byciem usatysfakcjonowanym na każdej płaszczyźnie życia.

[cyneusz]

Chodź na śnieżną kawusie rybko

[practically-an-x-man]

Vivienne Andenæs

(picrew is here for her human and siren forms, moodboard by @negative-speedforce, faceclaim is Rianne Von Rampaey)

Full Name: Vivienne Siversdatter Andenæs Pronouns: she/it (femme-presenting nonbinary, pansexual)

Nicknames: Vivienne Copanczik (first husband), Vivienne Wojchek (second/current husband), siren, she-devil (jokingly) Pet Names: rybko (little fish), żabko (little frog/froggie), perełko (pearl), serduszko (sweetheart) [Polish pet names from Wojchek]

Relevant Tags: #oc vivienne

Birthday: Somewhere in the early/mid 1800s Age in Chapter One: Appears in her 30s, but its real age is unclear

Universe/Fandom: Last Voyage of the Demeter (movie)

Physical Traits: - Human form: 5'10", extremely slender build. Has wavy red hair (usually tied back or braided) and extremely pale eyes, a tall oval-shaped face with strong cheekbones, small nose and lips, and a scattering of freckles across her cheeks. Often wears modest clothes befitting her time period, her wedding ring on a chain around her neck, and a drawn or stoic expression. - Siren form: Standard details such as the shape of its face do not change, however its eyes appear even paler to the point that it appears to completely lack an iris (just the pupil, and a bluish sclera around it). Its skin also appears faintly blue-tinted, like the ice of a glacier, and shimmers with the impression of iridescent scales. Below the waist, has a long purple-and-red tail akin to a betta fish, about 1.5x her height in length. Has the same purple-and-red fins along its forearms, webbed fingers, and small gills under the base of its jaw. Wears minimal clothing as it would inhibit its swimming, usually restricted to a loose skirt around the base of its tail, and the same wedding ring on a necklace.

Character Traits: Polite and reserved while on land/in her human form, though much more outgoing and boisterous while out at sea. When not restraining itself, it is outspoken and friendly if slightly off-putting (mainly thanks to its siren nature), shrewd, and surprisingly generous once she takes favor of someone. Enjoys the feeling of community, such as rallying the crew with a sea shanty or weaving tall tales about her past travels.

Relationships:  - Family: Siver (father, implied, she doesn't share about her family much), other sirens ("sisters" through the power of Poseidon) - Friends: N/A - Romantic Partner: Antoni* Wojchek (current husband), Florian Copanczik (first husband) *he's not given a first name in the movie, this is the one I chose for him

Additional Information: - Originally from Norway, but has spent much of her life at sea - Can switch between its human and siren forms at will, though the presence of water does influence its transformation (i.e. it is difficult if not impossible to remain human while submerged in water, and difficult to shift to her siren form when away from water) - Her first husband was also a sea captain, and taught her everything she knows about sailing and rigging a ship - Became a siren after her first husband cast her off his ship and left her to drown - Poseidon showed mercy on her and made her a siren, with the promise that she would never again marry a captain of the sea ^ MOVIE SPOILERS AHEAD - this promise becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, as she marries Wojchek but he dies before officially becoming captain of the Demeter - Does have a siren-song capable of a sort of hypnosis, though is also able to speak and sing without using it. - Would be deemed nonbinary by modern standards, though its historical context hinders its expression - Its identity as a siren acts as a metaphor for historical nonbinarism - on land, she is constrained by society's expectations, while at sea it is free to be itself - Enjoys storytelling, and Wojchek has tried to convince her to write a book - Because its tail is so long and unwieldy, often needs assistance transitioning from water to land, and will sometimes just hang from the prow of the ship to speak rather than attempting to climb onto the deck

[lesboguy-moved]

dobrego dnia moja rybko🐟🐠🦈🐡

dobrego dnia rybeńko 🎣

[we-fall-to-rise]