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kiss-me-muchoo · 3 months ago

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𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 || 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: here || part two: money power glory

Summary_when Coriolanus promised to split the plinth prize with his best friend, he didn’t knew that would be enough reason for Dr. Gaul to transform you into an experiment.

Warnings_bff to enemies, asshole Coryo, violence, mutations, angst, fluff.

Note_ im back to my coriolanus shit, and nothing just listen to valley of the dolls and girl

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

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It was a dry fall day when Coriolanus and his family ran out of cabbage and potatoes. He was to go to Pluribus Bell and trade some belongings for food. He was a kid, and he had been struggling for a very long time now. The Capitol was slowly making its way back to what it was before the war, but it was taking longer than expected.

Tigris was out, trying to trade some of the gold earrings from Grandma’am for wood, for the upcoming winter.

At the rough age of twelve, Coriolanus Snow had been growing impatient to get older, get into University, and give his family a better life. He already knew how to disguise his lack of wealth and how to fit in with his classmates. Coriolanus had no friends, just people to blend in.

He carefully closed the door from Pluribus’ place when someone opened the door from inside, pulling him backward, and making him trip.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry- Coriolanus Snow?” He heard a soft female voice and when he stood up, he finally saw you.

“Y/n?…” He grew worried, wondering if any other classmates were around, hoping to be wrong, as he didn’t want to be seen.

“Hi…” you awkwardly said.

Coriolanus was indifferent to you. He disliked how he often heard you gossiping with your friends. He disliked how you always participated in debates and readings, finding it annoying. And most important, he knew you were born capitol but your family was once District 1 generations ago. You were no daughter of elite members.

“What are you doing here?” The boy asked.

You weren’t expecting to see him there. Pluribus’ customers were always… poor people, hungry. So when you saw the brown bag with two cabbages and some potatoes in Coriolanus’ bag, you didn’t even need to question.

“I come here to trade my mother’s designs for food.” Coriolanus never thought you were in a situation similar to him.

“My father served in the war, he got injured and couldn’t keep working, and my mother quit her job to take care of him. We don’t have much but we are surviving…” you added shamelessly, Coriolanus was jealous that you weren’t afraid of revealing the truth, something he couldn’t.

“I won’t tell anyone I saw you here, Coriolanus. If that’s what you want” you added after seeing him judging you quietly, giving a cold look. You had the idea of him being serious and a young man of few words, no doubt he was.

“Can I trust you?” He asked, thinking he sounded so dumb.

“I have no reason to spread details of your life. So yes, you can trust me…”

“Okay…”

“I live on the Corso…” you said and without thinking, Coriolanus smiled more than he should have.

“Me too!” His excited tone made you feel relieved.

“Can you imagine both of us living in the same place?” You asked cheerfully. Coriolanus doubted it.

“I don’t think so…”

Oh but how mistaken was he? Not only do you two live on the Corso, but you also live in the same building. He had the penthouse and your parents owned the floor below.

Coriolanus was taken aback by how calm and excited you were as you showed him your house.

The boy learned quickly that your family was doing better than his. You had a lot of things, your room had exotic wallpapers, and a lamp made of feathers was even affordable.

For the first time, Coriolanus felt like he could actually enjoy meeting someone new. Even better if it was in his safe space, his home, and the source of his identity.

And that’s how you turned out to be the only person Coriolanus allowed to know about his situation.

…

Exactly five years later, Coriolanus was coming back from the market where he had traded a watch for some black dressing pants. Even though the Plinth Prize had been only announced two days ago, Coriolanus was already thinking about clothing for the occasion. He was out of breath by the time he hit your floor. And he was not going to stop by your place but he grew curious when he saw you tending a big piece of dark grey crinkled fabric. You had your long hair curled up, wearing slippers, a nightgown, and a robe.

He smiled, wondering how important could that fabric be to not acknowledge him.

“What you got there?” You quickly looked up, slightly embarrassed that Coriolanus caught you in your pajamas.

“I know it’s early, but my mom and I had an idea for a set. In case you know-“ you feel like you sound very narcissistic, hinting that you could possibly win the Plinth prize. Coriolanus and you were exceptional in school. And the only “friends” you could count were Clemensia, Festus, and Sejanus, although they were slightly behind you and the blonde.

“I had the same idea,” Coriolanus said, walking closer, showing you the black pants in his arm.

You smile at him, feeling reassured that you both thought the same. You knew the young man judged you once. But now, he had no reason to. Or so you believed.

He was very close to turning eighteen in the first months of the approaching year, you had also thought about buying him a present.

“Come inside. I need to tell you something…” he nodded, but gulped, thinking the worst.

You shut the door and Coriolanus noticed it smelled sweet.

“Oh, I’m baking something… I would like to share it with you and your family” The boy blushed at you noticing how hungry he was and also because it was very kind of you to share given the circumstances.

“You don’t have to, y/n”

“But I want to.…” he rolled his eyes, chuckling, tenderly accepting your good intentions.

“I don’t have anything to give you back. But we made a promise. Remember?” You nod, smiling softly at him.

Coriolanus is your best friend. Although Clemensia, Festus, and even Arachne were close friends, no one compared to Coryo.

“I do, but…”

“No, y/n. No matter what, we are splitting the prize. Both of us are going to university together.” He seriously said.

In the most inconvenient way, Coriolanus had found an ally. He knew most of his classmates since he was a little child, but after getting to know you, he understood it wasn’t the same. He was grateful for having you.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Sit…” Coriolanus walked towards your kitchen table. He realized your parents were gone. Which made him wonder where were they.

The place smelled like corn syrup and roses. Deep down, probably those two were his favorite things. He craved sweet things and the roses reminded him of his mother and her powder.

“So?…” he inquired, you were a little busy placing some towels on the table.

“My mother found a job in a fabric store, in a couple of weeks she’ll be able to refer Tigris. She’ll be able to leave the work with Fabricia” his eyes went wide, a smile immediately growing on his face.

“And not only that. My father accepted to work as a secretary in the offices of the Capitol’s congress” he couldn’t be jealous of the success of your parents when they were offering to help Tigris. He went up to give you a hug.

“That’s great news, dear” you hugged him back. He smelled like cedar and roses. You remembered the flowers his grandmother sent the day before.

“If things go right. My father could get us a job there after the Academy. And we’d have more money to pay the university’s tuition” he nodded, unconsciously hiding his face in your neck. The closure made you blush, it wasn’t like you and the boy hugged very often. But you appreciated it.

“I have faith we’ll have a bright future, Coryo. I really do”

“Thank you, for everything you and your family have done,” the blonde said.

“You are like family too. It’s nothing…” you reply, breaking the hug to check at the oven.

Coriolanus eyes you. He catches the smell of your hair, patchouli, and herbs. He smiles, looking at your clean face and old nightgown. He can’t deny you’ve grown into a gorgeous woman. But he blocks the thoughts from flowing further.

“I made bread pudding.” You knew it was his favorite.

And his smile only grew. When Tigris had the chance to steal from Fabricia and his waste, she made a classical bread pudding. But you were able to do a more sophisticated one. With cherry blossom powder that your mother had. The bread was more wet and less like fudge. Coriolanus loved it ever since he tried back two years during the holidays.

“I’m really liking this day” he admits, making you chuckle as you place the dessert literally in his face.

…

Reaping day wasn’t your favorite. You didn’t hate the districts but you didn’t like how they tried to destroy the Capitol. Nonetheless, the Hunger Games weren’t part of your fond morals. Having the privilege of being a mentor for the first time ever in the history of the games, wasn’t as exciting as it sounded. The only good thing is that it would lead to being closer to knowing who won the Plinth prize.

Months had passed and the day had finally arrived. You slipped into the two-piece set your mother made for you. A blazer and a long circle skirt in dark grey. An old pair of black boots that belonged to your grandmother and were in excellent condition, the leather felt nice and the heels added elegance to your outfit.

You never felt intimidated by not being part of the elite and being considered “poor” and it tore you to see Coriolanus feel like he wasn’t enough. Like the grate was of his last name had to loosen power.

So when you called him through the phone to see if he was ready, he said you should go first, showing a display of a little panic attack because Tigris hadn’t returned with the shirt he was to wear.

As much as you protested and said you would wait for him, he made you leave saying you couldn’t be late.

So you did.

When you stepped out of the building, you encountered Persephone, Coriolanus’ neighbor. The blonde had said once that Persephone and Clemensia were probably the prettiest girls from class. Which made you feel terrible but you ignored it from the moment it happened.

“Hey… Are you ready for today?” She asked.

“Yes… totally” You weren’t happy, to be honest, but you showed her your best smile.

“Why is Coriolanus not with you? He’s always attached to you…” the comment makes you smile nervously. Although you knew most of your classmates and had literally grown up along them, you never knew what kind of assimilation they had about you and Coriolanus.

“Oh, he woke up late. I wanted to wait for him, but he literally obliged me to go on” Persephone giggled, urging you to cross the street.

“That boy is head over heels for you…”

“Oh my goodness, Persephone. That’s not true…” she laughs, her lilac makeup and crimson lips making her look even more pretty.

“Trust me, y/n… There are even bets on the year you two will tie the knot!” Her comment makes you so embarrassed.

“We’re here!” You say changing the subject.

Heavensbee Hall is full of students and faculty. A lot of them say to you because it wasn’t a secret that your friendly demeanor and good grades made you more popular than Persephone.

When make it to the talk with Felix, Festus, and Arachne, you spot Clemensia entering the event along with Coriolanus.

At first glance, you tried to ignore the mixed feelings you caught after Persephone’s comments and seeing the man you quietly doted on the girl he considered the most beautiful.

“That can’t be y/n y/l/n! That’s a model!” you finally turn when you hear Clemmie, which makes you smile shyly.

Coriolanus finally spots you and he gulps. Every day, he saw you wearing opaque tones. He knew you craved vivid colors and exotic makeup, your mother was an unemployed fashion designer after all. Having the chance to wear elegant clothes and highlighting your skin with splotches of berry colors was a sight for Coriolanus. His hands felt sweaty and numb, a familiar feeling he started developing whenever you were close.

He walked straight towards you, taking a last sip of the posca he disliked. You smile at him, accommodating the rosebud attached to his heart. The action caught the attention of all your classmates and friends, who quietly gossiped or exchanged looks.

“That’s a gorgeous shirt, Coryo” he smiled.

“Tigris and your mother are my saviors” he whispered in your ear, which sent shivers to you.

You and your friends are called out to take a seat as the reaping is about to start. You end up seated between Coriolanus and Sejanus. And suddenly you find yourself lost in your thoughts, wondering who you would be mentoring. It’s all you could truly think about since you woke up. But suddenly, Coriolanus makes you come back to life.

“It’s going to be okay…” he said to which you replied with a little smile.

“By the way, you look very pretty…” your heart pounds as he whispers in your ear for the second time. Your smile grows along the blush creeping on your face.

“Really?” You feel so stupid after asking that. You didn’t want him to think you needed validation.

“Every day you look pretty, but I rarely see you with color in your face” he admits and it sends you to death the fact that he proceeded to grab your hand and give it a squeeze.

He didn’t know why he did that, but it felt right.

Something weird happened, you both felt a spark.

…

Watching kids fighting for their lives in the most gruesome way wasn’t appealing. Your eyes are on the little girl from District 8, your tribute; Wovey. The last time you saw her in the zoo before the games started, she made you cry so badly. She was just a little girl and the fact that she had smiled at you, saying how beautiful your dress was, made you understand every word Sejanus said.

The districts deserved to pay? Yes. But why not make them pay extra taxes, or limit their supplies? Why do you have to scavenge food for a little girl who is likely to die?

Sejanus had walked out after seeing what happened to his tribute. The bloodbath had been disgusting to watch. And as the hours pass as you sit along Coriolanus and other classmates watching your tributes, the weight of the events that happened on the previous days hit you. The moment you saw the rainbow-ruffled skirt from Lucy Gray Baird, you knew it would mark a before and after.

It was like her appearance in Coriolanus’ life had worsened everything for everyone surrounding him. First was Arachne, then Clemensia, whose image still haunted you with the scales and yellow eyes. Then the rebel bombing. It had been a long time since felt fear. You felt alone because you protected Wovey. But nobody protected you. The blurred sight of Coriolanus clinging to the ruffles of Lucy Gray’s skirt and calling for her as the medics took him away was very present.

You look down at your lap, the skirt of the uniform was on, but not the pants, since your leg was still bandaged from the burns you suffered the day of the bombing.

There’s a drift between you and Coriolanus since the day of the reaping. He appeared at the zoo and at night told you it wasn’t planned, he practically ignored you whenever he visited Lucy Gray but squeezed your hand the day of Arachne’s funeral. He confided to you what happened with Clemensia but refused to console you when she appeared in the hospital while you took care of Coriolanus.

The only good thing is that your parents were making a name. They were getting popular and you loved seeing them happy. Unfortunately, just as they were finding happiness, you were losing it.

You kept losing friend after friend. Clemensia ignored you moments before the games started. Arachne was gone, and Sejanus looked beyond depressed. And Coriolanus was falling for District scum.

How could he even inquire if the songbird was almost Capitol during the interviews?

Maybe you were a hypocrite for claiming Sejanus as a friend, who once was District and called it his home. But you despised Lucy Gray for wearing the clothes and makeup you craved, for being naturally charming and unconsciously revolving around most of your problems.

You have been quiet for hours, only having eyes for little Wovey.

Coriolanus glances at you frequently. And he can see the sad look on your face. He couldn’t ignore you had been changed since the reaping. The happy and positive girl he knew was slowly morphing into some lost panicked mentor.

The moment the games started, Coriolanus realized how hard it was for you to look after Wovey, one of the youngest tributes he had seen. The guilt of being such a bad friend started rubbing him in the wrong way.

Which is why he found himself constantly looking at you to see how you were doing.

But when he looks back, you’re gone. Most of the people watching the first day are gone.

It’s just Dr. Gaul telling him Sejanus entering the arena.

…

The tension was escalating. Coriolanus couldn’t sleep, not even with the cold shower that resulted nice for the heat. All he could think was about Sejanus and him running for their lives. He killed a boy. There was blood on his hands. He desperately called you but you didn’t answer. He went to bed thinking of Lucy Gray hiding in the arena and you practically ignoring him. And just when he was about to doze off with the memory of the kiss Lucy Gray gave him, his eyes opened abruptly.

He remembered the promise you two made.

When he walked back to Heavensbee Hall for the second day of the games, he could hear Lucky Flickerman giving the broadcast. He went straight to you, firstly noticing how you caressed your knuckles, showing that you were anxious.

“Could you sleep?” He asked, taking a seat beside you. You glanced at him, only to bow your head, back to your knuckles.

“I took some pills…” he frowned, confused.

“Pills?…”

“It’s nothing, Coryo. Just melatonin pills, to help me sleep well.” He nodded, not fully convinced.

“I’m sorry for being… distant,” he said, to which you shrugged, crossing your arms.

“It’s okay. We all have acquired different problems since the reaping. You have just been busy with your rainbow girl” Your tone distilled bitterness when you mentioned Lucy Gray, which didn’t go unnoticed by Coriolanus.

“When one of the two of us wins, it’ll be like before, but better.” he knew it wouldn’t.

“It’ll never be the same. Arachne is gone, Clemesia out of herself, Sejanus defying Gaul, the Ring twins' death… You’re already changing” he quickly took your hand, ignoring the way some people could be looking at him.

“I’m not. We’re family… you’re special. And I will always fight for you, y/n” his comment lit a fire inside you. You give him a little smile. But he knows you’re still blue.

Right when he was closer to admitting he had feelings for you, Lucy Gray appeared, withdrawing any plan he could have. And now he was confused about you.

Perhaps you only saw him as your best friend. Which is why he didn’t suppress the emotions Lucy Gray made him feel.

…

No-no, no, no, no, no… NO!

Every mentor and attendant in Heavensbee Hall heard you whisper until you literally screamed. The little Wovey had drank the water with poison. Tears immediately swelled in your eyes and you stood up, splashing the room with sorrow.

Even Capitol people felt emotional about the little girl slowly dying unbeknownst to her. Even Livia Cardew looked at you with empathy when you walked past her.

Even Clemensia, briefly looked at Coriolanus silently asking if she should go to follow you, but he told her he was going.

And he did. He followed you outside the room, finding you on one of the stairs leading to another hallway. Your hands covered your face, but he could hear you sobbing.

You felt terrible. You knew Wovey was likely to die, but that didn’t stop the pain. Adding all the strong emotions you’ve dealt with in the past days made you explode.

You just wanted your best friend. Regardless of his unrequited feelings, you needed him.

And he magically appeared.

When you wiped your eyes, he approached you. He took a seat beside you and caressed your shoulder.

“You’re not okay.” He said, to which you shook your head.

“I’m feeling the same as you. Only that I’m a crier and you’re not…” Coriolanus briefly smiled, appreciating your profile.

He faced the woman who knew all of him. The only woman that could ever understand him. And the only one who would care for him enough aside from his family.

“You were closer to Arachne than me. With Clemensia too. And your tribute was closer to being a baby again than she was to become a teenager…” new tears poured down and Coriolanus cursed himself for making you cry again.

“Is she finally gone?…” he nodded at you.

“You have to win, Coryo. You must win… This suffering must be worth it for one of us at least”

“If I win, you’re also in. We said it the day the prize was announced. We’re in this together…” Once again, he grabbed your hand again. And just when he was about to move away because you weren’t reciprocating the touch, you caressed his fingers, interlocking your hand with his.

“Lately I’ve been missing you a lot…” you confessed and it nearly made him blush.

“Why?…” it was dumb but he needed to hear something, he needed to comprehend.

“Well…. Because I need you, Coriolanus” his heart thumping and shaky hands prevented him from doing something stupid, but he offered you a lovely smile that you reciprocated.

He was about to say… “I need you too, y/n. Let me kiss you so I can accept whatever I feel for Lucy Gray is a whim”.

But he couldn’t. Because Festus appeared, looking for you two.

“Dr. Gaul wants you two back…” he said.

“Thanks, Festus” you thanked him.

And all the way to the room of commands, Coriolanus held your hand.

When the snakes landed on the arena of the games, Coriolanus stood up. When Lucy Gray was officially the winner, he went running to Tigris. But when he spun to hug you, he didn’t contain.

He grabbed your face and leaned to kiss you. The crowd cheered even harder, believing you two would officially begin a romance after years of uncertainty. You kissed him back, savoring the moment and feeling glad you didn’t give up on him.

“We won, y/n.” He whispered in your lips.

“We won, Coryo” You smiled, out of breath, and kissed him again.

…

His brain wasn’t thinking clearly. Coriolanus had messed up everything. He was being punished for his lies. Serving as a peacekeeper and leaving the Capitol was one thing. But for 20 years?

Perhaps he could follow Lucy Gray to District 12, just to see how was she. But 20 years was too long… especially when you were the woman he intended to marry one day.

He could say goodbye to his place in the University, he could say goodbye to paying the tax of his home. And he certainly could say goodbye to you.

But his biggest fear was that he slipped out you had the idea of the rat poison. Coriolanus was aware you said it vaguely, and he never told you he actually cheated.

As he walked out of Highbottom’s office, completely downcast, wondering how he would break down the news.

“Hey… Are you okay?” His nervousness grew as he watched you walk escorted by two peacekeepers.

“What are you doing?” You shrugged.

“Dr. Gaul wants to see me…” Coriolanus frowned. Was the lunatic going to punish you?

“And you? What are you doing here?” he bit his tongue. He couldn’t tell you yet. But probably it would be worse to wait and tell you in the morning, just when he was supposed to leave for the districts.

“The dean… he wanted to talk to me about the disbursement of the prize”

The guilt started killing him the moment you smiled at him. You leaned, stepped on your tiptoes, and gave him a gentle peck.

It took him by surprise, but caressed your cheeks and kissed you back.

“I’ll see you at home?….” He nodded, pressing his forehead with yours, knowing he probably wouldn’t see you again. His eyes watered and he tried to stop time.

But it was inevitable because you gave him one last smile and you passed by him, followed by the peacekeepers.

Chills assaulted him, but he thought everything was going to be okay. At least for you.

…

For a couple of days, he was able to forget about you. But soon when Sejanus asked how were, the guilt felt like a bucket of ice blocks falling all over him.

He lied, saying you were okay. But Lucy Gray knew he wasn’t being truthful. Coriolanus confessed to her. The songbird found it very hard to admit that Coriolanus’ true love was you. Perhaps he followed her to her home, he was making her happy. But the blonde was Capitol, he would always prefer his people and his girl.

“You have waited too long, darling. Please call her and at least apologize” she said throwing some rocks at the lake in front of them.

“She’s probably mad at me…”

“More the reason to fight for her” Coriolanus glanced at her confused. But Lucy Gray rolled her eyes playfully.

“Look…” she reached for a purple flower. She cut it and showed it to Coriolanus.

“From what I’ve heard of y/n… is that she is important. You said once she’s your best friend. Think of her like this flower, which is a hydrangea. They have medicinal properties and they are very pretty… but they’re delicate. So I think you would prefer to keep her nurtured. Because she’s special…” Coriolanus sighed.

He couldn’t say to Lucy Gray he was scared of losing you because it would mean that all he did the moment he bribed the secretary of the military deferment wasn’t worth it. He came to the twelve because he wanted to be with Lucy Gray, but he had some unresolved feelings for you.

It was so confusing.

“I’ll call her tomorrow during my break…” Lucy Gray nodded, knowing that after that call many things could change. But it was the right thing to do. Because you were innocent.

…

The jabberjays awakened something inside him. The possibility of finding a reason to be sent back to the Capitol sounded very attractive. But all was forgotten when he requested to call your apartment. In the same building, he called home.

He gulped nervously before a female voice picked up the call. Your mother.

“Hello?” She asked.

“Mrs. Y/l/n… It’s Coriolanus” she sighed, the blonde could almost see her nodding.

“Oh, Coriolanus. What a surprise to hear from you…”

“I guess y/n told you I was sent to serve as a peacekeeper” he admitted, surprised to hear your mother didn’t want to kill him for hurting you.

”Coriolanus… y/n has been sick since the day the hunger games closed” he frowned, holding the phone closer to his ear.

“What?…”

“Apparently she was working in the laboratories in the Citadel with Dr. Gaul. She caught a virus and has been quarantined. I’m so desperate to see her again. Her father has been asking but Dr. Gaul says she’ll be fine in a couple of weeks.”

Coriolanus immediately thought back on Clemensia and the “flu” she caught. But now, it was ten times worse.

Did Gaul punish you for helping him to cheat in the games? Were you dead?

His hands started shaking.

“As soon as I’m back in the Capitol. I’ll try to ask for more information. She’ll be okay…” he tried to soothe your mother, but he was already freaking out.

So he didn’t have situate to send jabberjays with the recording of Sejanus revealing his rebel plans. All so he could go back to you.

…

He didn’t regret it. Because as soon as he stepped into the Citadel, back at home, it felt right.

“Welcome back to the Capitol, Mr. Snow,” said Dr. Gaul, tending her water mutts and giving him a sadic smile.

He stood silent for a couple of seconds. Debating whether to ask you or not.

“I know what you’re thinking about, boy,” she said, walking down the stairs of the mutt's cage.

Coriolanus remained silent, carefully eyeing her.

“She couldn’t get away if she was also guilty for putting in your head that silly idea for you to cheat during the games” he gulped, nervous.

“Have you talked with her parents?”

“Just with her mother once. They think she’s sick and will be fine in a couple of weeks. But they’re worried…” he admitted, trying to act relaxed.

“Oh sure they are worried. I heard the man is going straight to the president’s cabinet. And the mother, already spreading her wings in the fashion tendencies…” Coriolanus wasn’t aware that during his time away your parents had spent all of their time working to try to not worry too much about you. To gain power and find a quicker way to be with you.

“I didn’t know…”

“She was very angry when she learned you had lied to her…”

How was he supposed to keep his composure with that talk?

“I never intended to hurt her” he hated to admit that. He couldn’t be vulnerable. But it crumbled just because it was about you.

“Ah, young love. It’s so dangerous because it makes us weak…”

“Is she alive?…” he tried to change the subject.

“You just have to say you want her back and she’ll be in the Capitol’s hospital in a couple of days” he grew more worried.

“She can’t die… or stop being her”

“The snakes in your other friend really triggered you…” Gaul mocked, laughing.

With that lunatic mentoring him, he had to pull out a stronger card. Something that would compromise him as well so she had no choice but to let you go at once.

“I intend to marry her.” The woman stopped laughing, only to look at him, trying to find the lie in his words, but there wasn’t.

“Brave girl to conquer the heart of a Snow…” and with that, she started walking towards another room in the big laboratory.

The room of voxels and human mutations. He grew anxious until Dr. Gaul pointed out a big water tank.

Coriolanus holds a big breath of terror. He tries his best to remain still. But he felt fear. Just when he thought nothing could ever hurt him again, he had to encounter you in the worst possible way.

“What a shame, she was responding very well. Even looks like a mythological monster”

“Is she going to be… human again?”

“With patience, yes. I’ll let you know when we move her to the hospital. It would be nice if you gave the news to her parents. You know, given you’re the reason she almost ended up with a mermaid tail.”

There rested your naked unconscious body, almost completely covered in salmon scales. Your legs seemed to be slowly disappearing, as the scales were tangling them from your hips to your knees. Your hair was matted and your lashes seemed oddly long.

Coriolanus walked home. He couldn’t take the trolley. The walk seemed short, even with the approaching winter. Your image was haunting him. He couldn’t keep the secret to Tigris when he came back home. He pretended to have a giant smile on his face when he blurted that the Plinths made him heir of their fortune. And he tried to ignore the memory of the elevator indicating the name of your floor.

“But she’s going to be okay?” Tigris asked worried.

“Dr. Gaul said so…”

“I thought she was busy trying to get into the university… her parents rarely appeared to be around too”

Coriolanus remembered what he said back in the laboratory.

“I told Dr. Gaul I’m marrying her” Her cousin opened her eyes in disbelief.

“So she could release her?”

“Yes. But also because… I always thought of it.”

“Are you conscious she’s likely to be mad at you for leaving without answers?” Coriolanus nodded, knowing very well you had plenty of reasons to hate him. But there was no going back.

”Very aware…”

“Then you’ll show her again the fine man you are. You remind her why you were best friends.” He was no good man. He killed people to get to the top. But he wouldn’t be that man to you. You were the only one who could possibly understand him and keep his filthy secrets.

“Snow lands on top” Tigris whispered.

Coriolanus turned to look at a picture of you. He and his family love you so much, you had your own portrait in the Snow Penthouse. The first your mother designed was pink and you wore it. You were always very pretty to the eyes of everyone. But only at that moment Coriolanus appreciated your beauty. The he looked at another picture, the one of you two during the reaping ceremony. His tailored shirt and your handmade clothes. That girl and boy were long gone.

But Coriolanus had done so much damage to step back. With Sejanus and Highbottom gone, he had secured a place in the Capitol. Lucy Gray couldn’t hurt him anymore. All he had to do was to win the girl that once belonged to him.

Giving one last look at the picture of you two, he smiled.

“Snow lands on top…” he answered back to Tigris.

_________

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #coriolanus snow #tom blyth x reader

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ashxketchum · 11 months ago

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Now it feels like we’re celebrating the 25th Anniversary 😍

This new art for an upcoming collaboration with Karatez is just simply stunning. The theme is (very obviously) “idol” and I personally love the futuristic pop concept they’ve added to the outfits. Although exact date and merch details haven’t been shared yet, they shared a few layouts of the key art.

The outfits are also great this time around because of their little references to the partner Digimon’s Perfect evolutions. Listing them down one by one as always.

Taichi: The blue markings on his jacket plus robotic arm markings on his right sleeve are a nice shoutout to MetalGreymon.

Yamato: We see WereGarurumon’s pattern on his jacket and a few belts wrapped around his hands that captures the punk-grunge vibe of WereGarurumon well. It may be Yamato’s affinity to music, but he looks extremely in his element in this art, it’s not often we see him so raring to go in official merch art (he’s more of a soft smiles guy usually).

Sora: Her gloves and the red bandana on her arm coupled with the feather in her hair are clear shoutouts to Garudamon. It’s kinda funny to me that being the girl who’s crest is a heart symbol, she’s making a victory sign while Mimi and Hikari are both making different types of finger hearts 😆

Koushiro: Honestly they were really subtle with the reference for him and even twitter couldn’t exactly answer my doubts so I’m gonna have to see Koushiro stans step up and answer whether the reference in his outfit limited to the markings on his jacket resembling AtlurKabuterimon’s chest?

Mimi: I think she’s the one with the most easy to catch references, her skirt resembles Lilymon’s and her hair tie looks like Lilymon’s flower canon. I love that she’s making the big finger heart because it’s just so very Mimi. If Yamato suits the passionate side of being an idol, Mimi is definitely meant for the cutesy visual vibe that can make fans go crazy over just a wink and a smile.

Jou: He’s wearing three belt like bracelets around one wrist like Zudomon which makes his a minimal reference though not as subtle as Koushiro’s. I do feel that they could’ve done a bit more with his look, maybe add a horn to the side of his headset? I also can’t wait to see the full art for each kid individually cuz I do think him and Yamato are wearing similar bellbottom pants!

Takeru: The feather on his headset and the yellow suspended straps are a decent reference to HolyAngemon. Considering that they wanted to keep the outfits limited to one colour per kid, I think this is the best way they could slip in the reference, though I wouldn’t have minded a few rings.

Hikari: The feather on the headset, the corset-ish belt around her waist and her gloves are very nice references to Angewomon. Keeping Hikari’s innocence as a kid intact while referencing a Digimon that is undoubtedly considered one of the most sexiest mons in the franchise would have been really tough and I salute the illustrators for coming up with this design! I also like the OG Korean finger heart she’s making, such a cute look on her.

The cherry on top are each of the Digimon partners holding supportive cheering goods for their kids. Piyomon’s love for Sora goes hard with her big name banner. Meanwhile, Agumon and Palmon kept it simple with haoris, Tailmon and Patamon too decided to go the simple route with light sticks. Gabumon, Gomamon and Tentomon seem normal from afar with their hand fans but when you get a closer look on all the hearts around Koushiro’s name on Tentomon’s fan, you know the three spent time making those themselves.

All in all, a pretty amazing illustration to be able to get merch of!

But wait that’s not all, andGallery has also teased a future cafe collaboration with Digimon Adventure on their twitter, more info will be announced on 19th Feb but they did share a preview of what to expect.

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dragonfly0808 · 5 months ago

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Please please please make the winx rewrite playlist on Spotify

Mkay so… I got way too invested and wound up making a 5 1/2 hours long way-too-detailed playlist

This is the link:

Veiled Wings and Shattered Panoramas Official Playlist

And if you want to know why I chose each song, down here is the way-too-detailed-explanation of the playlist!

First off; I chose 2 songs to represent each season

Season 1- Wings by PIXY and Faerie Soiree by Melanie Martinez

Season 2- What’s up Danger by Blackway and Black Caviar and Different World by Alan Walker and Sofia Carson

Season 3- This is War by 30 seconds to mars and Nightmares Never End by JT Music and Andrea Storm Kaden

Season 4- Tiller’s Prayer by Sabrina Jordan and Ribs by Lorde

Subsection here for the main song of each arc for s4

Arc 1- Generation Why

Arc 2- The Old Therebefore (the singing to snakes version cause it’s more dramatic)

Arc 3- What Was I Made For? By Billie Eilish

Arc 4- Spinnin by Madison Beer

Season 5 will be… Nightmares Come to Life from HSMTMTS and Long Live by Taylor Swift

Next I chose 2 songs for each member of the Winx

Bloom- Rising by Julia Lester and The Albatross by Taylor Swift

Stella- Sober II (Melodrama) by Lorde and skinny dipping by Sabrina Carpenter

Flora- Envy the Leaves by Madison Beer and Mouth of the Eden by Sabrina Jordan

Musa- Whispers by Halsey and the grudge by Olivia Rodrigo

Tecna- Invisible Chains by Lauren Jauregui and idontwannabeyouanymore by Billie Eilish

Aisha- The Tradition by Halsey and Comfort Crowd by Conan Gray

Subsection for my 3 main songs I associate with the girls:

A World Alone by Lorde

WOKE UP by XG

For Good from Wicked

Continuing with the boys

Sky- Lie by Jimin and In My Blood by Shawn Mendes

Brandon- Something Big by Shawn Mendes and Thumbs by Sabrina Carpenter

Helia- Cough Syrup (the Glee version) and Speak Out (Acoustic) from HSMTMTS

Riven- Boy in the Bubble by Alec Benjamin and BLUE by Billie Eilish (cmon ‘I thought we were the same birds of a feather now i’m ashamed’ is so Driven coded it’s not even funny. And the whole final part from ‘you were born bluer than a butterfly’ is just so perfect for him.)

Timmy- The Other Side and Summer Child by Conan Gray

Nabu- Wool by Flatland Cavalry and Die Alone by FINNEAS

Subsection for my 3 main songs I associate with the boys:

Youth by Shawn Mendes and Khalid

ON by BTS

The Story by Conan Gray

Next, songs for the couples!

Skloom: lovely by Billie Eilish and Khalid, Surrender by Natalie Taylor (and in the future) Maybe this Time by Joshua Basset and Sofia Wylie

Stella and Brandon: There’s no Way by Lauv and Julia Michaels and R.E.M by Ariana Grande

Flora and Helia: Canada by Lauv and Alessia Cara and Venus Sunrise by Lia Marie Johnson

Rivusa: Ain’t No Doubt About It from ZOMBIES 3 (partially as a joke but also cause that song is absolutely so them) Alley Rose by Conan Gray and ESPECIALLY Vermillion by Sabrina Jordan

Tecna and Timmy: Someone You Like by the girl and the dreamcatcher and Tell Em by Sabrina Carpenter

Aisha and Nabu: Tornado Warnings by Sabrina Carpenter and safety net by Ariana Grande and Ty Dolla $ign

Next, songs for different characters and a few couples!

Icy- 28 Reasons by SEULGI

Stormy- The Lighthouse by Halsey

Darcy- Partners in Crime by FINNEAS

Darcy and Riven- Getaway Car by Taylor Swift and Astronomy by Conan Gray

The Trix- Lightning by Little Mix

Daphne- Can’t Catch Me Now

Valtor- Burn the Witch by Shawn James and Castles Crumbling by Taylor Swift and Hayley Williams

Daphne and Valtor- Dynasty by MIIA

Now Roxy’s squad!

Roxy- Control by Halsey and How Villains are Made by Madalen Duke

Shirley- Matilda by Harry Styles

Naten- Kid in Love by Shawn Mendes

Alexa- Follow the White Rabbit by Madison Beer

Chimera- Wandering (Don’t Go) by Hues and Lia Marie Johnson

Chimera and Naten- The Alchemy by Taylor Swift

Roxy and Shirley- On My Way by Sabrina Carpenter and Alan Walker

The Sibling Squad- Grow by Conan Gray and Warriors by Imagine Dragons

Then I put a bunch of songs that just remind me of the Winx or help me get into a writing mood, I’ll just put the title here cause I’m getting tired

Rise

odd eye

run for roses

untouchable

ringo

s-class

thunderous

lion

secret story of the swan

panorama

centuries

voltage

flesh & bone

legends never die

lifts

Finally, I put a song for Selina and what will be the main song for season 6

For Selina: Fall Little Wendy Bird Fall by Lydia the Bard <- this is exactly the vibe future Selina will have for reals

And finally, the main song for s6:

Til Forever Falls Apart by Ashe and FINNEAS

Wow… I def put way too much thought into this.

Anyways, hope u enjoy!

#winx club #winx rewrite #winx #winx headcannon #winx fanfic #winx headcanons #veiled wings and shattered panoramas

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girlbloggerbae13 · 7 months ago

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Against Better Judgement - Part 1

I have re-entered my hyperfixation of The Boys due to season 4's release. Unfortunately I am a maladaptive daydreamer and can insert an original character into any given piece of media. So this is a Butcher x OC story, where OC is Hughie's big sister...so it does fit the story of the show pretty much to a tee (that is just how my brain cooks it up, sorry) - but there will be more details, side stories, etc to make it more fun for the Butcher storyline! And of course, it's written in OC's pov, so you get to know her backstory and thought process quite a bit. Please let me know what you think!

At 2 o’clock in the afternoon, Mickey should have been awake. A functioning, stable, put-together 29 year-old would be. Not Mickey. She was passed out in bed (a full size mattress resting on the floor in her room), her body still trying to process all the alcohol she had consumed the night before. And the morning before. As well as the few consecutive days before that. That’s how it had been for as long as she could remember, at least since –

The phone rang. Mickey groggily lifted her head from the pillow, reaching for her cell phone. She had apparently neglected to plug it in before she fell asleep last night. Hughie? She stumbled over to the corner, where her charger was plugged in, not quite able to reach the bed. I’ve been meaning to call him.

“Hughie? I’m sorry, I really have–,” she started, already guiltily rambling, but she was cut off by her brother’s wails. “Hughie?” He wasn’t stopping. “Hugh? Hugh? Hey, what happened? Hughie?” Mickey was already standing up and putting her shoes on, despite the hangover-induced migraine that was making her ears ring.

Hughie sniffled, gasping, then went silent. His breath was shaky. “Hughie?” Mickey warily said to her brother.

“She, she was j-just standing there,” he started.

“Who was? Hugh. I’m on my way, but I need you to tell me what happened.”

“We were just…I was leaving work, and she…,” his voice cracked as Mickey grabbed her keys, wallet, and flask. Empty. She’d grab something on the way to fix whatever had ruffled her little brother’s feathers. He was a sensitive kid, always had been. It was probably just some car accident he had seen while going on lunch, or even worse, he had been riding his bike and, distracted by the great Billy Joel, accidentally hit a kid. That had happened before. That would make sense. Everything is okay. The bad stuff happens to me, not him.

“Robin.” He was gasping for air now. Mickey’s heart dropped. “She was one step off the fucking…and he just came out of nowhere…she– I, I didn’t have time to…God, Mick, oh my God, Mickey…Robin, she’s gone.”

Mickey was about to open the door, but she turned around and threw up in the kitchen sink.

—

“The service was beautiful,” Dad said. Mickey had to stifle her laughter. She always did during times like these. Funerals, memorials, the like. The drinking helped, for a little bit at least. When it stops helping, it just means you need to drink more.

Mickey took a sip of her drink – some shitty wine her dad had likely bought to assuage the “divorcee blues” – and took a look at her brother. He was staring forward, scowling, with blank eyes. She knew what he was thinking. Hughie was asking himself what he could have done differently. What he could have said, or in his instance, where he could have stood differently. He’s wishing it was him instead of Robin. Maybe he’s thinking about joining Robin in death, or maybe that had just been Mickey when her husband died.

She had stood, motionless, next to Liam’s casket, as friends and family came up to her and gave their condolences. Mickey had sat with her head down, avoiding eye contact with Liam’s mother and father. He had been an only child. Perfect Liam. Hughie had nudged her to signal that it was the part of the funeral where she was supposed to stand for the family honors. Had they never married, the “honors” would have gone to his parents. She was the one that wanted a big, white wedding.

Mickey’s eyes had been squeezed shut as the rifle volleys were fired. Why do they fire blanks at a military funeral? The loud noises can’t be good for attendees suffering from PTSD. Like Liam had been. Mickey counted the shots.

One. Liam's face flashed in her mind.

Two. She squeezed her eyes tighter.

Three. Everything Mickey had ever wanted. Gone.

One of the other soldiers started playing Taps. She didn’t even have tears left, just rage. Mickey wanted to grab the stupid fucking bugle and slam it on her husband’s casket until it split open. She wanted to pick Liam up by the collar of his stupid fucking uniform and shake him back to life. She wanted to scream at him for leaving her a stupid fucking mess. For leaving her alone. All alone. She wanted to smash his head into the pavement until he died. Again.

They handed her – the next of kin – the neatly folded American flag. Mickey didn’t want it; she would have happily given it to her in-laws. She didn’t need another reminder of the mess he had gotten himself, or herself into, for that matter. Liam and his stupid patriotism. He had worshiped Supes, but unlucky for him, wasn’t gifted with any super ability. So he joined the military. For what? A couple years overseas firing at whatever your commanding officer told you to, a shitty government job where you’re just another cog in the wheel of the “Great Big American Dream” (the military industrial complex), and a never ending B-roll of whatever tragedies you had bore witness to. Mickey’s superiority complex had gotten her into psychology, then into the FBI’s training program to be a special agent. But this happened. And when you fire a gun at your officer’s foot – it was the ground next to him…it was never going to actually hit him…she had fantastic aim, and he was pissing her off – you can’t be a special agent.

That left her a widow at 26. Jobless. And an escalating alcoholic.

That wouldn’t happen to Hughie, though. Mickey wouldn’t let it.

She was brought back to reality by her dad. “Michaela, please make sure your brother signs the papers today. It’s what Robin would have wanted” She waved off her dad, scoffing.

The Vought attorney? Paralegal? PR motherfucker. Had some sense of entitlement coming in and asking Hugh to keep his mouth shut. And for only $45,000, as if that could immediately fix his grief. Obviously, it would work in Vought’s favor. No one would ever know that A-Train had run right through Robin, leaving only her hands, still holding on to Hughie’s. And the TV “apology” the asshole had given was disingenuous, to say the least, and a cover-up, to tell the truth. In the middle of the road? Yeah, right.

“Can I think on it?” Hughie asked the suit. Mickey breathed out a sigh of relief. It’s not like she hated Supes in general, but they reminded her of the military – especially Homelander – so each day her distaste for Vought, The Seven, and any asshole with super-strength grew exponentially.

“Good choice,” Mickey told her brother after she hastily escorted the suit out the door. “I know the money seems nice, but in my experience, it only pisses you off more. Plus, you’ll probably blow it on something stupid.”

“Like booze?” Hughie gave a half-smile to his sister for the first time since the accident.

“Ha-ha, asshole. Exactly like booze. I’ll stop when I’m ready to come back to real life.”

“Well while you continue to bury yourself in liquor, I’m going to bury myself in work.”

“Not any time soon, though, right?” Mickey asked, standing up.

“Why not? It’ll be a good distraction.” Hughie shrugged. This behavior wasn’t like Hughie at all, granted she had never witnessed him after he lost a significant other before, not like this. Maybe it will be beneficial, at least more beneficial than the coping mechanisms she chose. Everyone handles grief differently, right?

—

“Sorry, we’re closing–” Hughie turned to see Mickey walking through the tech store door. “Oh. We are getting ready to close.”

“I know, I know. I’m not here to shop. Now that you’re back at work, stupidly, might I add, I wanted to offer my free labor. I figured we could do the opposite of what we did when we were little and had chores. You get to sit and boss me around, and tell me what to do,” Mickey dropped the Tupperware of funeral food on the checkout counter. “Plus, I brought you dinner.”

“Really? Funeral leftovers?”

Mickey rolled her eyes. “Look, dude, it was already made. Now will you tell me what wires I need to put where so we can go home and–”

Both the Campbell siblings turned to the door. The bell rang, and the door was open, but neither of them could see a customer.

“Who are you?” A voice said.

“What the fuck?” The siblings said in unison.

“Right in front of you, pricks.” They were staring at the voice when whoever it was held up a small disc, waving it in Hughie’s face. “You think I wouldn’t find this thing?”

“What did you do, Hugh?” Mickey asked her brother, gritting her teeth. Wanting revenge on A-Train was one thing, but if her hunch was correct, this invisible guy was none other than Translucent. How did he get tangled up with one of the other Seven?

The Supe grabbed Hugh’s badge. “Hughie,” he jeered, then without warning, slammed Hugh face down into the counter, cracking the glass case. Hugh was launched over the counter. “Pussy! I followed you from the fucking tower,” Translucent said, lifting Hughie up again.

“The fucking tower?” Mickey was now yelling, but still frozen. “What the fuck, Hugh?”

Hughie was then launched into one of the store’s windows, cracking it. She had to do something. “Oh, and who’s this, Hughie? Your little accomplice?” The voice got closer, and Mickey could hear footsteps making their way towards her.

An invisible hand grabbed her by the hair, and she instinctively raised her knee, hard, hoping to hit Translucent where it mattered. He groaned, releasing her hair. Mickey tried to dash over to her brother, but was yanked up by her hair again and thrown backwards into a shelf of routers. Now her and Hughie were both on the ground, coughing, and Mickey still had no fucking clue what was going on. She propped herself up against what was left of the shelf, blinking and trying to reset her eyes.

“Who’s that guy you were with? In the car?” Translucent asked a panting Hughie. “Who was he? He put you up to this?” Now he was screaming, Hughie trying to escape, and Mickey was trying to get herself on her feet.

“I, I don’t know! He was just some Uber driver, okay?” Hughie’s voice cracked as he pleaded with the Supe.

Mickey grabbed an extension cord from the ground and slowly prepared to blindly wrangle their attacker, but unable to see the Supe, she didn’t see him making his way over to the wall closest to her, and in one fell swoop, Translucent grabbed the extension cord and threw it, and Mickey still holding on, to the opposite side of the store. She landed behind the shattered glass counter, still faintly able to understand what was transpiring through the ringing the blow had left in her ears.

“Oh don’t give me some bullshit! Uber driver?” Translucent mocked Hughie. Mickey could see a TV being lifted off its wall mount. “What, you think I’m some fucking idiot?” Translucent was walking over to Hugh, the flat-screen lifted high. “Why’d you plant the bug?”

“Please, please. Please, please, no. Please,” Hughie pleaded.

“We’re The Seven. Earth’s most mighty.”

Mickey had to do something. She propped herself up and took position to leap onto the invisible asshole.

“Champions of the innocent, motherfuc–”

A car drove right into the shop, shattering the windows, knocking down merchandise, and just barely missing Hughie. “Sorry about the mess,” a bearded man said as he exited the vehicle. “You should fuck off, Hughie.”

Mickey stood up shakily. Now she was really confused. “Who the fu–”

The Cockney-accented man turned towards her. “You must be the sister. Sorry to meet’cha under these circumstances, but you two need to scram.”

Holding a tire-iron, the man slowly walked towards where Translucent had landed, smirking. “Well if it ain’t the invisible cunt,” he chuckled to himself, then began swinging blindly around the TV wall. Moments later, he was launched into a rack of pagers.

“Hughie, Hughie, you heard him, we need to go,” Mickey said, trying to usher her brother onto his feet and away from the store.

“No, no,” Hughie stood up, brushing her off. “We can’t leave him here.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Yes, we can!” Mickey was practically pulling Hughie to the emergency exit when he stopped in his tracks. “Hugh. Hugh! No, don’t even–”

Hughie stepped back into the floor of the store with such force that he yanked her back with him. Mickey huffed and ran her hands through her hair. She inhaled and blood ran down her throat, greeting her with the familiar metallic taste.

Brit was attempting – and failing – to wrestle Translucent to the ground. Looked like he was tasting that red metal too, because with an erratic grin, he spat blood all over the Supe, revealing Translucent’s position. Smart. The bearded man then had the upper hand after headbutting the “invisible cunt” and landing a few punches, whilst slowly covering more of the Supe’s body outline with more bloody spit.

Though England put up a good fight, Translucent got one good lick in, and the man was down on the ground. Translucent looked up at Mickey, who, overcome with agitation and confusion, had not moved her feet, and she was now standing directly behind the groaning Brit. She swallowed a mouthful of blood. She was trained for this at one point in time, right? She at least had the pent-up anger for this. Mickey stepped over the Brit’s body.

“Hey, sweetheart, why don’t you just come back to the Tower with me, and I’ll make sure you don’t ever have to see these assholes ever ag–”

Mickey cut him off with a punch, slugging Translucent right across his face. Predatorial asshole. “Fuck,” she hissed, shaking her hand. She forgot how much she hated hand-to-hand combat.

Translucent stumbled a little, but popped back up, rubbing the side of his jaw. “Look, lady, I’ll give you that one, but let’s just–”

Mickey hit him again, this time with an uppercut. He charged back at her, grabbing her hair – again? – and landing a few blows to her stomach. Mickey snapped back into it, grabbing his forearm and pulling herself around so that her back was against the Supe’s chest. She flung her head back. Hard.

The Supe instinctively launched her into the wall. Now she could really taste the blood. But before she could steady herself, Translucent kicked her in the stomach, knocking her through the wall of TVs.

Thankfully, this had given England enough time to regain his strength, and he stood up, ready to attack, when Translucent gave him the same swift kick he had just given Mickey.

“So who are you?” Translucent asked. “Fucking spy?! For who, huh? You’re gonna fucking tell me!” Translucent picked up the Brit’s tire iron from the ground. “Or I’m gonna smash your fucking scalp off! Who the fuck are you?”

Through the Mickey-sized hole in the wall, she could see Brit propped up on one of his elbows, smirking. “I’ll tell you who you are,” he said. “A fucking moron. Translucent doesn’t even mean invisible. It means semi-transparent.” England made a quick glance to the other side of the store, where Mickey was able to faintly see Hughie holding an exposed wire. Hughie’s wire couldn’t reach, so England quickly kicked the Supe, sending him backwards where he waltzed right into the wire.

Translucent screamed as he got electrocuted, lighting up the store. Hughie kept screaming until Translucent’s limp body fell backwards onto the ground.

England stood up with a groan, and through shaky breaths, Hughie asked, “Is he…is he dead?”

The bearded man kicked the Supe. “Well he ain’t movin’.”

Mickey, limping, emerged from the wall she had been kicked through, and ignoring the mystery man and the Supe, yelled at Hughie, “I’m gonna need some answers, Hugh. What the fuck have you gotten into?” She gestured back at England. “And who the fuck is he?”

England put up a hand to silence her. “Whoa, whoa, darlin’, don’t fret. Name’s Butcher, and I’m just a friendly neighbor helpin’ out’ya brother here, alright?” He turned to Hughie. “Now, kid, how’d you know the electric could do the job?”

Hughie was still sitting against the TV wall. “Skin’s carbon…highly conductive. I saw it on, uh, Jimmy Fallon…”

Butcher raised an eyebrow, “Would have taken me forever to work that one out. Good job.” One thing about Hughie is that he knows the most random shit. This time it might have just saved them. Butcher made his way to Translucent’s lifeless body, and against her better judgment, Mickey followed his lead. Hughie wasn’t going to go down for this. “Let’s get ‘em in the boot.”

Hughie brought his hands up to his head. “W-wait, wait what?”

“The trunk,” Mickey and Butcher said in unison.

“See, your sister knows the lingo,” Butcher said while trying to get a grip on the Supe’s upper half.

Hughie looked at his sister, then at Butcher. “No, no, I mean, what are we doing with him?” Hughie was panicking now.

Butcher looked up at Hughie. “Well, Hughie, you just offed one of The Seven, mate.”

Mickey let out a mix of a scoff and a laugh, much to Hughie’s dismay. “Me? I…I…,” He turned his gaze to Mickey. “You’re okay with this, Mick?”

“Well no, but…I mean, he has a point, and I’m not getting in trouble for this.”

“What?! I…I…Butcher, you hit him with a fucking car!” Hughie shouted.

Butcher dropped Translucent’s torso. “Look, potato fucking potahto, we’re all in a shitload of trouble–”

“No, no! No, no, we’re not. He attacked us, and you’re…you’re a federal officer, you know?” Hughie argued, and Mickey dropped the Supe’s legs, standing up to cross her arms. This smug, sloppy, arrogant asshole is not a federal officer. “Just…just call the fucking FBI!”

The hesitation in Butcher’s voice confirmed Mickey’s suspicions. “Yeah, o-okay, so look…technically I’m not a fed,” he said, shrugging, as if this wasn’t just the atomic bomb of all bombs to drop on Hughie right now, let alone a less-than-awesome first impression to have on Mickey.

“Jesus, fuck,” Mickey started, holding her head in her hands, shaking it.

“WHAT?!” Hughie practically screeched. “Then who the fuck are you?”

#the boys #the boys s4 #the boys tv #hughie campbell #billy butcher #butcher x reader #eventual smut #slow burn #maybe #the boys oc

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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Prehistoric! Reader going trick or treating with Baki and the twins or something ion know or prehistoric reader and pickle seeing someone dress up in that blow up dinosaur costume please tell me you know what I’m talking about 🌚 anyway love ya stuff

I was wondering how to make everything Halloween themed, and then I thought this would actually be a nice opportunity to bring Pickle home instead. Everything would be decorated as if it came straight out of the Cretaceous. Everyone shows up as a particular dinosaur. As the idea hit me I became very nostalgic and remembered my favorite Disney movie, Dinosaur. So I made it a Dinosaur Halloween. :’)

Baki Headcanons: Prehistoric! Reader goes Trick or Treating

Special Halloween Edition 🎃 featuring the Baki characters and our recurring prehistoric reader! Also the kids.

[More Prehistoric! Reader]

It’s Spooky Season and Baki wants to introduce the prehistoric family to the ghoulish fall holiday. Truth be told, however, he’s not quite sure anymore just how much of the effort is for the twins and how much is for his own enjoyment. He feels like a little child once more, giddy with excitement as he plans costumes and activities.

Honestly, it’s rather impressive how involved the fighters are. Then again, how often might one have the chance to witness ancient humans reacting to modern celebrations? You’re not entirely sure what all the agitation and shuffling is about, but the men have reassured you the kids will enjoy it. Pickle himself is also terribly curious.

Baki has gone as far as to convince multiple people to actively participate, so when the time comes most of the men are costumed themselves. He guides you and Pickle by the hand and the twins are running around you in circles. (Professor Payne has, by the way, exhausted all praise regarding their fast motor development) What better place to improvise a haunted house, if not the beloved Underground Arena? Doppo Orochi is waiting at the entrance in a T.Rex costume, holding the head under his arm. He found the idea terribly funny, attempting to recreate his first encounter with Pickle back at the enclosure. You immediately recognize the suit and chuckle at the memories. As the twins surround the older man in awe, it dawns on you that they never had the chance to see an actual dinosaur. The smile you had earlier is now tainted with a pang of melancholy.

Following Doppo’s train of thought, Jack has attempted to reminisce his sneaky trespass with an aquatic theme. You won’t catch him dead in an actual suit - where would he even find something for his massive size? - but nonetheless he’s improvised a t shirt with a Mosasaurus print. The children’s attention is now drawn to him. He exchanges a glance with his younger Hanma sibling and reveals a bag containing mysterious garments. Jack excuses himself briefly, retreating with the twins, and brings them back shortly afterwards. Except this time they seem to be wearing some squeaky appendage filled with air. Both you and Pickle observe with raw fascination. It looks like they’re riding a small dinosaur, but their actual legs are underneath the strange costume. Pickle claps his hands, impressed.

Inside the Arena, Retsu and Katsumi are putting together the final details. There are tables overflowing with food, sweets, drinks and carved pumpkins. There’s an eerie atmosphere coming from the decorations, yet the overarching theme is not of the horror realm. You stop in your tracks and your mouth hangs open in surprise. There are artificial trees and ferns scattered all over, making the arena look like an actual jungle. Among the greenery you can discern the outline of a massive Argentinosaurus, its long neck reaching just below the ceiling. A small pack of feathered Velociraptor cutouts is placed further ahead. It looks like they’re chasing something. As your eyes follow the scene, you spot an injured Pterosaur, dragging its large wings behind. Everything is static, a snapshot frozen in time, yet you can almost hear the wailing croaks and the shuffle of the claws hitting against the ground. You can suddenly smell the moss, and feel the humidity on your skin. For a mere second, for a fleeting moment, you’re home.

Something jolts you back to reality and you notice Pickle’s hand on your shoulder. He has a worried look on his face and you realize you’ve been tearing up. It’s nothing. You shake your head to reassure him and his eyes narrow in a smile, similar to yours. He’s been thinking the same thing. Your ears are abruptly pierced by a shriek and both of you turn back in a panic. The kids are screaming in excitement, running away from Baki that seems to be imitating a Triceratops. Katsumi comes to their defense, squatting low in his costume resembling an Ankylosaurus. A fitting choice that allows him to showcase his powerful whip, using the clubbed tail of this sturdy, armored warrior.

“Pretty decent work, huh?” Old man Tokugawa approaches you and Pickle with a wide grin. “We can’t let the kids miss out, can we? I had a whole team prepare everything under the guidance of Professor Payne.” He hands you a small, empty bucket. You’re confused. “We might not have any real dinosaurs for you to hunt, but I’ll show you something similar. It’s called trick or treating. Let’s see what we can find in this fake jungle.”

#baki #baki the grappler #baki hanma #baki headcanons #pickle baki #pickle x reader #prehistoric reader #doodle

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bow-of-aros · 8 days ago

Text

A Debt Unpaid

Summary:

Curt couldn't have at least waited a little longer before getting captured? At least Owen could show him this cool feather he found :)

I went into this wanting to practice writing with a bit more detail and I think I got more than I bargained for. No I wasn't blushing writing this shut the fuck up. ANYWAYS I hope that you enjoy these silly gay spies and their stupid adventures and Owen getting to be evil in a fun silly sexy way because I sure did <333

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

The click of the safety disengaging echoed through the room, swiftly followed by the cold barrel of a gun being pressed against the back of Owen’s head. Honestly, the fact that someone had managed to sneak up on him disturbed him more than the actual firearm did.

Nobody should’ve been able to get the drop on him. Curt was on this mission with Owen and he’d agreed (after far too much coercion) to stand watch while Owen cracked the safe as he had more expertise in this particular model.

But, this man was here, and Curt wasn’t, which likely meant—

“We have your partner.” Yeah, that.

Owen heaved a long-suffering sigh, “Already? We just bloody got here, for Christ’s sake!”

Sure, Curt had a tendency to make stupid decisions on missions. But did it really have to be so soon? He knew that he should’ve kept an ear out, just in case.

The gun nudged against the back of Owen’s head, reminding him of its presence, “We’ve got you too,” the voice said, “So don’t get all uppity about it. We’re going to take you back to your friend, tie you nice and snug so you can’t move when we torture you, and then he’s going to tell us everything he knows.”

At some point, Owen needed to have a conversation with the first person to monologue their so-called “evil plan.” He’s not sure whether it would be to scold or thank them, but he’d probably figure it out.

“So you don’t plan on starting on him until I’m there? That’s good to know. Now, just give me one moment if you wouldn’t mind—”

It was almost embarrassing how easy it was to disarm the man. By the time he pulled the trigger, Owen had already redirected his aim and the bullet whizzed harmlessly past his ear. The crunch of his fingers as Owen twisted the gun out of his grasp was nearly drowned out by the bullet firing up through his jaw.

As the man fell to the ground, Owen spotted another in the doorway who reacted just a second too slow, clearly not having expected his colleague’s death, and he hit the floor just moments after the first.

Owen took a brief moment to disarm them both, listening for footsteps that didn’t come, muttering to himself all the while.

He went back to the safe, making quick work of it. “Oooo look at me! I’m Curt Mega! I tell my partner that I’m going to keep watch and then immediately leave him to be shot because I probably saw something shiny on the ground!”

The door swings open and Owen swiftly tucked the blueprints that they’d been sent to find into an interior pocket in his jacket. He was just about to close the door when he noticed a set of quills carefully tucked along the side.

One of the more pompous ones found a home alongside the blueprints, if only to make Curt laugh with its reveal. He’d probably make some jab about Owen finally being a ‘proper Englishman’ or some other inane claim.

Speaking of Curt, he probably shouldn’t be kept waiting any longer than necessary. They may have wanted Owen to aid with questioning, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t get started without him.

Owen slipped out of the room, moving through the shadows and bringing the knife he always keeps, quite literally, up his sleeve into his palm. Just because nobody had come running at the two gunshots didn’t give Owen any room to get sloppy.

Shadows are his best friend and he makes sure to stick close, slitting the throat of any unfortunate soul who crossed his path before they could make enough noise to alert anyone else to his presence. All the while, he kept a keen ear out for Curt’s voice. Knowing him, that would be what Owen heard before anything else.

And, of course, Owen was proven right mere moments later when he heard “You call that a punch?! My grandma can hit harder than that and she’s been dead since I was two—OW! What the fuck was that for?”

“Your friend will be here any moment,” A man with a thick Russian accent spoke, which was odd considering they weren’t in Russia last time Owen checked. He was big and burly and certainly someone that he was going to have to look into after they were finished. “I’m sure that when you hear his pretty little cries, you will be more inclined to speak. Or perhaps we will try it the other way around? That way I can have some real fun with you, da?”

That was…not exactly reassuring.

“You’re a fucking creep, did you know that?” Oh Curt, always so eloquent.

Owen peered into the room through the window in the door and was shocked to be presented with a clear line of sight. With all the effort he put into getting here, this was honestly quite disappointing.

Well, he’s not one to look a waste an opportunity such as this, so Owen wastes no time in lining up his shot and pulling the trigger. An arm flies up to his face to shield it from shards of glass and he opens his eyes once more to the Russian dead on the ground, blood pooling from a perfect shot to the head.

“My my, Agent Mega,” Owen swung the door open with a flourish because he had earned the right to be a little dramatic goddamnit, “We really have to stop meeting like this.”

Admittedly, a bit of his ire did melt away at the beaming smile Curt directed at him. Lucky for him, Owen had quite a bit of ire stored up, so it didn’t make much of a difference.

At Owen’s dry stare, Curt’s grin morphed into something a bit more sheepish as he said “It was an accident this time!”

Jesus Christ. “Are you implying that there were times that you were caught on purpose?”

Matters were not helped by Curt’s unapologetic shrug, “I get bored sometimes.”

A bruise was already blooming across Curt’s right cheekbone and Owen took a deep breath to restrain himself from making it symmetical.

Curt was bound securely to a chair, as these things typically went, and faced an identical chair with restraints that Owen assumed were meant for him. A brief survey of the situation led Owen to see that these ties would not be swiftly undone, or not swiftly enough, at least.

Or, that’s just what he told Curt, but who’s keeping track?

“I don’t want to take any risks, so I’m going to do a sweep of the building and dispose of any stragglers,” Owen said, smirking as Curt’s jaw dropped slightly, “I’ll return as soon as I’m able to free you. Maybe take this time to consider what landed you in this situation.”

He turned and walked back out the door to Curt’s “Owen? Owen don’t leave me here! I swear to God—Owen!”

It didn’t take long to finish his sweep, anyone Owen hadn’t originally found or had made their escape was dealt with. And then he did one more quick survey for anything he might’ve missed.

Just in case.

The view Owen was greeted with as he returned was certainly a gratifying one. Curt sat slumped in his seat, staring sullenly at the door as his bottom lip jutted out slightly. He looked like a kid put in the timeout corner, which is exactly what he was at the moment.

“So,” He said, walking forward and leaning down until he was inches away from Curt’s face, “What did we learn from this?”

Curt just rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, so Owen leaned in a little closer. “What was that?”

“Don’t get distracted when I’m supposed to be watching your back.” At least he looked a little remorseful, so there was that as consolation.

Owen reached out to give him an approving, if slightly condescending scratch under his chin. “Good boy. Now—oh?”

Red began to seep into Curt’s features as Owen wrested his hand from where it had been trapped between Curt’s chin and his chest. His partner’s lips were sealed shut, likely to prevent any more sounds like that choked-off squeal from escaping.

But it was too late, and Owen longed to chase that noise.

“Ah yes, sorry, I must have forgotten about your little weakness.” Owen tucked his hands into his pockets as he circled Curt, surveying for weaknesses. He leaned in close from behind and whispered, “What a truly unfortunate position to be trapped in. If only someone had advised you against doing anything stupid before this mission began.”

As his breath ghosted against Curt’s neck, he took note of the violent shiver paired with the suppressed flinch at the sensation, and an idea began to form.

Of course, Curt did what he was so prone to doing, and started talking. “Look, Owen! Why don’t we just call this whole thing a mistake on my end and get going, huh? I’ll scan the blueprints and you can take the actual thing because I know how much you Brits love your filing. Whaddaya say to that, old boy?”

Oh, he was nervous. Risking Cynthia’s wrath in an attempt to appease Owen was a dangerous game, and he was almost tempted by the way his voice wavered near the end.

But… “We both know that you were going to let me take them anyway.” Owen unzipped his coat, “You know, I found something that I think you’ll enjoy with me being a proper Brit and all.”

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Thrown by the abrupt change in topic, Curt tried to crane his head to see what Owen was talking about, but Owen made sure to keep what he was doing firmly out of sight.

He withdrew the feather from his inner pocket, twirling it between his fingers before swiping it questioningly across the nape of Curt’s neck and oh, reaping the rewards of situations like these was a beautiful, wonderful thing.

A sound that was nothing short of a scream tore itself out of Curt’s throat and the chair that Owen would’ve sworn was bolted to the floor just shifted under the force of Curt trying to throw himself bodily away.

Silence echoed for a brief moment before Curt cracked. “Owen! You don’t have to do this! Look, I’ll do anything you want!”

Huh. “Anything?”

“Yes, you fucker!”

Owen wished that he could bottle up this moment and keep it forever. He’d never want for anything else.

“Well then,” He ran a soothing hand through Curt’s hair before gripping it tight and whispering in his ear, “Laugh for me, love.”

With Curt’s head near immobilized, Owen got to work. He was just as methodical and precise in this venture as he would be in any mission, cataloguing gasps and squeaks and squeals with a single-minded focus employed only in interrogation rooms.

To start, he slowly dragged the feather across the nape of Curt’s neck, waited a brief moment, then did it again. The fist in his hair kept him still enough and his pleading fell on deaf, uncaring ears.

It seemed as though his pitch jumped when the feather was centered, brushing over the top of his spine.

So, when Owen decided to focus his attention a bit more on that spot, “OWEN! Ohohohohohowen holyshit fuhuhucking PLEHEHEASE! Shitshitshit sohohohohohomewhere ehehelse!”

Taking careful note of the lack of the words no or stop, Owen decided to acquiesce and move so he was facing his partner. For the first time since this truly began, Owen was able to get a good, proper look at Curt’s face.

And he was glowing.

Owen nearly had the breath knocked out of him by the sheer beauty of the man in front of him. A wide smile was plastered across his face and his eyes were shining. However, some of that may be due to the few stray tears that had begun trickling out and that Owen tenderly wiped away with his thumb, smile softening when Curt leaned into the touch.

“You,” Curt huffed, “Are an evil man, Owen Carvour. Do you plan on letting me out any time soon?”

A hum reverberated through Owen’s chest as he contemplated before firmly grasping Curt’s chin, angling his head up to look him in the eye. “My fun’s only just started, love. But, I’m sure that I could be persuaded to show a little mercy. You did miss out on your interrogation, after all.”

Curt’s breaths were coming in sharp bursts, eyes glued to the feather inching ever closer, “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“Well, I’m feeling rather generous so I’ll make this easy. Simply admit that I’m the better spy and we can be on our merry way.” Owen’s lips curled in a challenging grin, watching Curt’s eyes snap up to his, narrowed.

It was an out, simple as that. Owen was giving Curt the opportunity to ask for this to stop with minimal damage to his ego. He wasn’t a monster, the moment he sensed genuine discomfort was the moment he stopped.

Which is why, when Curt’s response was “Kiss my ass, Carvour,” Owen didn’t feel even a shred of remorse.

“It’s your funeral. Let me know when you change your mind, agent.” He angled Curt’s head a little higher and fluttered the feather under his chin, revelling in the frantic laughter that immediately spilled from his lips.

He stayed there for a while, exploring, learning that tracing his jaw elicited breathy giggles while dusting over his collarbones drew out little snorts in between. All the while, Curt tugged desperately at his bonds, cursed Owen out in several languages, and laughed.

But not once did he tell Owen to stop.

And then, Owen’s hand slipped, and the feather curled around Curt’s ear.

“SHIT!” Curt froze for a moment, shocked by his own reaction. He looked up at Owen and a spark of fear entered his eyes. “Now, baby, we can talk about this!”

“Talk all you want, Mega. There’s only one thing I want to hear.” Still, Owen waited a few moments for a concession that never came, just in case.

Nothing. “Suit yourself.”

His first attempt at threading his weapon of choice behind Curt’s ear was met with a jolt so fierce that Owen almost feared that he’d given himself whiplash. For his own safety, Owen pressed a firm hand against Curt’s cheek, holding it still so as to prevent any potential injuries.

Then, excruciatingly slowly, Owen dragged the feather along the shell of his ear, allowing some of the fronds to slip behind and dance across vulnerable skin.

Curt’s mouth dropped open in a soundless scream before words came rushing back to him. “NononononONONONO OHOHOHOHOWEN PLEASE! I CAHAHAHAN’T! SHITSHITSHIT NAHAHAHAH HAVE MEHEHERCY!”

And since none of those were the correct words, Owen switched over to his other ear, giving it the same treatment. For a few moments, he darted back and forth, occasionally swiping across his neck to keep him guessing.

Owen looked at the feather curiously. All this commotion over something so delicate, he truly would never understand this man he’d somehow fallen in love with. As an experiment, he stuck the feather into Curt’s ear and twisted it.

That’s when Curt went from cracked to shattered.

“OKAY! OKAHAHAHAY I GIVE! YOHOHOU’RE THE BEHEHEHETTER SPY!”

At that, Owen immediately withdrew, tucking the quill into his pocket for safekeeping as he worked to undo the binds.

They were expertly done, just as he’d suspected, and Curt certainly wasn’t helping matters slouched over the way he was. But Owen didn’t say anything and Curt was very nearly recovered by the time he was done.

“That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Owen crouched down between Curt’s legs to look up at him, placing gentle hands on his knees. “Do I need to carry you out of here or can you walk?”

Curt just flipped him off before standing, ignoring the slight wobble in his balance as he found his footing. “What, that? That was nothing!” Owen reached a hand threateningly towards his pocket, prompting a nervous step back, “Wait no I’m sorry! You win I lose and all that.”

A smug smile situated itself on Owen’s face. “Yes, well, let this be a lesson to you to try and avoid this situation in the future. Perhaps next time I will have to use the other side of the quill.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Curt quickly made his way out of the room.

Owen trailed after him, musing “I could write my name. Let everyone know exactly who it is that you belong to.” He smirked at the slight stumble in Curt’s step, “Or I could simply write Curt is ticklish over and over again. What do you think?”

“What I think,” Curt whirled around, blush high on his cheeks, “Is that I’m fucking exhausted and need some sleep. To make up for this, you better be in that fucking bed with me or so help me God I will—”

“Can’t make up for something that you so clearly enjoyed.” Owen cut him off, thoroughly enjoying the way Curt gaped as he stumbled over his words.

“I—I didn’t—You little.” He took a deep breath and composed himself, “I did not like it and you owe me.”

Owen heaved a put-upon sigh, as though sleeping while holding the love of his life in his arms was some sort of chore and not the one thing he would rather be doing for the rest of his natural life. “I suppose. It’s never good to leave a debt unpaid, you know.”

Seemingly satisfied, Curt continued leading them out of the building, leaving Owen to mutter to himself, “It seems as though making you admit it shall have to wait until next time.”

It was always good to have something to look forward to, after all.

#fanfic #tickle fic #tickling #fluff #spies are forever #agent curt mega #owen carvour #ticklish agent curt mega #wrecked his shit im so proud of myself #and of owen #good job owen #went kind of insane with this one #like 3k words insane #i love these silly gay spies #spies are forever tickle fic #when they get back curt flops on top of owen and passes out immediately #if you even care #FEATHER ORIGIN STORY LETS GO #no i didnt stay up until 1am to finish and post this what are you talking about

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crazylittlejester · 5 months ago

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Do you have tattoo ideas/headcanons for the chain?

-catreginae

I do!!

Time: I can see him as someone who’d either have a decent number of tattoos or none at all, there’s no in between, but I can can really see him piecing together a sleeve full of memories from journeys only he knows. Its a visible reminder for him that it actually happened and he’s not just going crazy. He strikes me as the kind of person who’d only have tattoos on either one arm or just one side of his body

Wars: If he DOES have a lot, the majority of them are in places you cannot see because they’re for him and they’re personal. He doesn’t really care if people CAN see them, but he’s not going out of his way to make them visible. They go where HE wants, he gets to be in control of that. I think he would probably have some sort of tattoo on the inside of his wrist maybe, as a reminder of all the friends he’s lost in the war tho I’m not entirely sure what that might be, but it’s meaningful to him

Twi: You cannot tell me he doesn’t have tattoos. I CANNOT be convinced he doesn’t have tattoos, that’s his therapy. In a modern au I could see him as a tattoo artist. I think he’d view himself as a canvas for beautiful art with deep meaning to himself, he definitely has tattoos to remind him of Ordon, Rusl and Uli, Midna, Colin, Ilia, everyone he loves. But also? He’s got a dorky ass lookin goat on his leg somewhere and it looks ridiculous but it was his first one and he loves it. He did that one himself for sure

Sky: Definitely has a feather or just a straight up loft wing on his forearm. The color looks crazy good too, it’s incredibly detailed, it’s the only one he has

Wild: FOR SURE has tattoos. None of them are super connected, not all of them are super meaningful, he definitely is the kind of person who’d let his friends pick out a tattoo for him to get he definitely has a silent princess tattoo

Legend: Doesn’t have any. He’s scared of needles. But he will not admit that and he simply says he’s not interested in tattoos but that is the world’s biggest lie. Those 2 week temporary tattoos would be life changing for him

Hyrule: He’d be down, but I don’t think he has any yet. Wild could convince him to go get a matching one with him for the price of a single cornchip

Four: He’d probably either have something for the colors or nothing at all. But like, it’s definitely some little inside joke between him and the colors that NO ONE else gets

Wind: Once this kid gets over his fear of getting his ears pierced it’s the end for him, he’d have a bunch of tattoos and piercings. I think he’d put together a sleeve that just looks absolutely cool as fuck and subtly integrates parts of his journeys. It’s pattern heavy and symbolic and he loves it

#jes talks #jes ask #linked universe #lu headcanons

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shiftperception · 4 months ago

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when I was a kid I was big into collecting pokemon figures. I had this whole imaginary society of them spread across shelves in my room, they were split into type based communities like it was warrior cats. One time I got gifted a small bucket (I think) of used ones from someone whose kid was going off to college or just didn’t want them anymore, it’s too long ago to remember the details tbh. Point is mixed in there was a bootleg sneasel (color of hisuian sneasel with feathers on both ears), an unknown creature that was clearly a digimon (I put him on the psychic shelf. he had a big triangle on his forehead), and a bootleg vulpix. Bootleg vulpix was the color of a shiny vulpix, had three blue tails, and a cute little necklace. I assumed that like with bootleg sneasel, the creator had messed with the design to dodge copyright; specifically by basing it off the dex entries that say vulpix is born with one tail that splits and changes color as it grows. And for good measure using the shiny color and giving it an accessory. “She” was best friends with bootleg sneasel, and they lived together on the ‘Clone Shelf.’ In my pokefigure society this was a group led by mewtwo, consisting of them and another batch of bootlegs a family member found for me on a business trip in china. I knew they were all off brands but they were constructed just fine, so I explained their differences as a result of them being clones. Like mewtwo’s clone army in the first movie that had different markings. And if the first movie taught me anything it’s that clones belong in the pokemon world as much as anyone- who cares if they look a little different, or have a mutation that keeps them looking like a baby forever? The circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant! Well the point of all this sentimental backstory and lore dump is to tell you I just discovered. That apparently.

He’s not a bootleg vulpix. This animal who I’m seeing in context for the first time is named Corrine and is from a completely different game.

#pokemon #tales of symphonia #no way it says he was created in a lab too tho. how did i know this creature without knowing him at all #the ‘psychic type’ was calumon(?) btw and my explanation was him being from another dimension and waking up with amnesia

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tinytinyblogs · 1 year ago

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Feeling a spark? Me too.

The feelings were mutual! They found out you like them too.

(Ot8 reaction, non-idol)

Hyung line, Maknae line

Stray kids masterlist here

Han

Your laptop screen glowed against the darkening office backdrop, beckoning you with the siren song of unfinished work. But the gentle strum of Han's voice kept pulling your attention away, its melodic cadence a stark contrast to the urgent tapping of your fingers on the keyboard. "So, homebody or social butterfly?" he prodded, his smile twinkling beneath the office lights. You glanced up, catching his hopeful gaze for a fleeting moment before returning to the blinking cursor on your screen. "Both," you mumbled, hoping a curt answer would send him back to his own tasks. Han hummed, seemingly unfazed by your one-word response. "Ah, a versatile one, I see." His voice was a feather tickling your focus, making it impossible to concentrate on the tangled web of spreadsheets before you. Frustration tinged your fingertips as you pressed them harder against the keyboard, the clattering an attempt to drown out his persistent questions. "Fancy restaurant or cozy cafe?" he chimed in, completely undeterred. This time, you paused, unable to ignore him entirely. A sigh escaped your lips as you met his eyes, a playful challenge dancing within them. "Can you be more specific? What's this all about?" He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just answer the question, sunshine. No further details required." You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "Fine. Cozy cafe, then. But seriously, Han, what are you up to?"

He leaned closer, pushing the laptop screen down slightly until you could only see his face filling the space before you. His grin spread into a full-blown Cheshire cat smile. "Very romantic or laugh-until-your-sides-hurt kind of date?" he whispered, his finger playfully shushing you. His question hung in the air, punctuated by the silent thud of your heart against your ribs. A date? Han, the office prankster, the source of endless puns and witty quips, was asking you on a date? You stared at him, a million thoughts swirling in your head. Both? you wanted to answer, a mirroring of his earlier response. Both romantic and hilarious, because that's what Han was: a bundle of contradictions, a walking enigma you couldn't seem to keep your eyes off. But instead, you simply replied, your voice barely a whisper, "Both." A warm hum rose from Han's throat, a counterpoint to the rhythmic tap of your fingers on the keyboard. He nodded, a thoughtful crease marring his forehead for a moment before dissolving into a satisfied smile. "Right, I could actually manage both," he muttered, almost to himself, yet loud enough for you to catch. Han looked up, his gaze bouncing between you and the glow of your laptop screen. "So, when are you done? When will you be ready?" You blinked, glancing back and forth, your mind scrambling to catch up. "Ready for what?" He chuckled, a soft rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

"For our date, of course! I’m finished with your personal preference survey. Turns out, your friend didn't know much about you or what you really liked, seeing as you haven't been on a date before. Well, neither have I, honestly. So, I figured I'd ask, make sure we get it right." His smile deepened, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "And hey, guess what? Your friend spilled the beans. She said you like me. Mutual feelings, right? So let's do this," he declared, his voice filled with an infectious enthusiasm. "Let's become the best couple this world has ever seen!" He puffed out his chest playfully, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. You stared at him, incredulous. Your friend, the blabbermouth, had actually blurted out your secret crush? And here was Han, proposing a date as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Han shifted in his chair, the creak echoing the nervous drumbeat in his chest. He sat up straight, a slight tremor in his hands as he leaned closer. Looking straight into your eyes, he saw galaxies reflected back, swirling with a mix of surprise and something he dared to hope was interest. "But um," he began, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. He cleared his throat, the sound rasping against the charged silence. "If it's okay, if I could... maybe hold your hand?" His breath hitched, caught in the web of nerves. "Or give you a hug? You know," he fumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, a blush creeping up his cheeks, "a kiss maybe?"

Felix

The notification flashed on your phone, a simple question that sent your heart into a tap-dancing frenzy. 'Can I come to your place?' it read, from Felix, your sunshine-haired friend with a secret that mirrored your own. Now, here he was, standing awkwardly in your doorway, clutching a plate piled high with your absolute favorite cookies - his own handiwork, the aroma a sugary confession swirling in the air. The apartment had suddenly shrunk, the silence pressing in like a thick fog. You offered a mumbled thanks, accepting the cookies with shaking hands. You settled on the couch, the TV droning on like an unwanted guest. Your eyes wandered to the screen, but your mind was in a galaxy far, far away, populated only by butterflies and Felix's nervous smile. He, too, seemed adrift in a sea of unspoken words. He fidgeted, cleared his throat, finally breaking the silence with a hesitant, "Hey." His eyes flickered to the TV, then back to you, sparkling like stars under the city lights. "I heard something today," he mumbled, the sentence heavy with unsaid emotion. "And it made me so happy." He paused, the silence stretching like taffy between you. "What is it?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the artificial laughter on the screen. He chewed on his lip, a battle raging behind his sunshine eyes. "Actually," he started, then stopped, restarting with a sigh, "I've been wrestling with myself, trying to figure out what to do. This feels so awkward, but…" He turned slowly, his gaze locking onto yours. "Is it true, what they say? Do you… like me?"

The silence sat heavy between you, a thick fog obscuring the usual ease of your friendship. The words you couldn't speak, the feelings you kept under lock and key, threatened to shatter the perfect picture you'd painted of this relationship. You saw the flicker of doubt in Felix's eyes, the echo of your own fear reflected in his gaze. Then, like a whisper carried on the wind, his voice broke through the stillness. "I feel the same," he admitted, his voice rough with unspoken emotions. "I just... I didn't know how to tell you." The confession hung in the air, a tangible force that sent your heart into a desperate tap dance against your ribs. The forgotten TV, its flickering images mere background noise, became irrelevant. All that mattered was the pounding rhythm of your shared anticipation, the echo of a wish whispered into the universe. "I almost thought it was just a joke," he continued, a shy smile blooming on his lips, "a wishful dream that couldn't possibly be real." He reached for the TV remote, the click silencing the distracting chatter. No more hiding behind the screen, no more excuses to avoid the truth that shimmered between you. His eyes, pools of nervous hope, held your gaze captive. "Is it alright," he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, "if I take you on a date? A real one, where we can actually talk, where this isn't just a stolen moment between friends?"

He turned on his axis, facing you fully, a hesitant smile dancing on his lips. His eyes scanned your face, searching for a trace of doubt, a flicker of fear. Then, ever so gently, he reached out, his hand finding yours like a missing puzzle piece. As his fingers intertwined with yours, a warmth, both physical and emotional, surged through you. The burden of unspoken feelings, the weight of a secret kept hidden in the shadows, lifted with a sigh. In its place, a delicate flower bloomed within you, its petals unfolding with trepidation and joy. "It's okay, right?" he murmured, his voice soft as a melody. "If we… if we took this to another level, if we let this spark, this undeniable chemistry, ignite into something more?" His words sent shivers down your spine, and a whisper, as fragile as a butterfly's wing, escaped your lips, "It would be nice." The sentence trailed off, almost lost in the air, as if your voice wasn't yet daring to believe the truth it echoed. But you repeated it, a little firmer this time, your eyes locked on his, "It would be… nice to be more than just friends." The words, simple yet laden with unspoken promises, painted a smile across his face. It bloomed like a sunrise, chasing away the last vestiges of doubt and filling the room with the warm glow of possibilities. "Then you are mine now," he whispered, his thumb brushing a gentle caress against your skin. The possessiveness in his voice wasn't demanding, but rather a tender declaration, a promise to cherish this blossoming relationship.

Seungmin

The moment your eyes caught Seungmin across the room, your feet seemed to pirouette before your conscious mind could catch up. You whipped around, faster than a startled rabbit, unsure why you suddenly craved distance from your longtime crush. The untold feelings, simmering like a secret potion within you, rebelled against this abrupt retreat. "Avoiding me, I see," a familiar voice startled you from your musings. Seungmin, in a t-shirt clinging to his form like a second skin, stood behind you, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "I'm not!" you sputtered, turning back, desperate to mask your flustered heart with nonchalance. "Then why the Olympic-worthy pirouette every time our eyes meet, even when you're mid-conversation?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You practically warp speed away, leaving a trail of confused dust bunnies in your wake." A blush threatened to engulf your face as you stammered, "I'm not avoiding you, Seungmin." He only hummed in response, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Avoiding a crush, perhaps?" The smirk reached his eyes now, crinkling the corners with genuine good humor. Your jaw dropped, eyes wide like saucers. "What are you talking about?" you parried, hoping your feigned confusion would hold some water. Seungmin chuckled, a warm, melodious sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about," he said, leaning closer.

"Someone with a loose tongue spilled your little secret, the one you were so sure was under lock and key." The silence after Seungmin's revelation stretched until it threatened to snap, heavy with a thousand unspoken truths. He let his hand rest casually in his pocket, watching the way his words had sent your mind pirouetting like a ballerina on caffeine. You felt adrift, unmoored from the familiar shores of denial. "Then what do you want now?" your voice caught on a tremor, the question tumbling out more as a defense than a genuine inquiry. Was this some cruel joke, a play on your long-held affection? "Make fun of me?" The thought ignited a flicker of anger, a desperate attempt to regain control. Your head spun like a kaleidoscope, thoughts colliding in a dizzying chaos. You were a deer caught in the headlights of his unexpected confession, paralyzed by the sheer audacity of it all. "Not so sure, maybe take you on a date," he said, his voice a gentle counterpoint to the storm brewing within you. Your mouth gaped in disbelief. Did you mishear? Had the universe suddenly flipped upside down? "Right, you… what? You what?" Your voice, usually so measured, jumped an octave higher, betraying your shock. He met your stunned gaze with a serene smile, repeating the words you barely registered the first time around. "A date." The simplicity of the phrase held the weight of an avalanche, threatening to bury the meticulously constructed walls you'd built around your heart.

"Don't do that just because you pity me, Seungmin," you snapped, the hurt stinging in your throat. The thought of his affection being fueled by mere sympathy was unbearable. The vulnerability you'd so fiercely protected felt exposed, raw and aching. The air crackled with his soft rebuttal, "Pity?" Seungmin's voice dipped lower, like a caress against the turmoil raging within you. "Is it just me who's so unreadable, or have you become blind to the feelings swirling around you?" His eyes searched yours, a kaleidoscope of sincerity and a hint of playful challenge. With a slow, deliberate movement, he took a step closer, closer still. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, see the details of his face etched with an earnestness that sent your heart into overdrive. His angelic features, normally a source of amusement, now held a potent mix of cuteness and raw heat that left you breathless. The words spilled from his lips, each one a brushstroke painting a vibrant picture of his hidden affections. "I wouldn't be doing any of this," he confessed, his voice a low rumble resonating in your chest, "if I didn't have a monumental crush on you. My constant orbit around you, the unsolicited help, the sweetness reserved only for your ears - that's not who I am with anyone else, not by a long shot."

Jeongin

The insistent rhythm of knocking shattered the stillness of your 3 am slumber. Groaning, you stumbled towards the door, your vision blurry with sleep. There, bathed in the pale moonlight filtering through the peephole, stood Jeongin. "Jeongin? What are you doing here at..." you squinted at your phone, "3 am?" He offered no immediate answer, his silence a heavy weight in the hallway. Then, in a swift move, he stepped past you, pushing the door closed and dragging you with him into the living room. The air crackled with a raw, uncharacteristic intensity. He flopped onto the sofa, his jacket landing in a crumpled heap beside him. You followed suit, still blinking sleep from your eyes and trying to decipher the storm brewing on his face. "I feel so disappointed," he finally uttered, the words sharp and heavy in the quiet room. His gaze, usually alight with playful mischief, was now clouded with a mix of hurt and frustration. "About what?" you asked, your voice still thick with sleep and confusion. "About you," he spat, each word punctuated by a sigh. "About me. About us." He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of exasperation. "Why did I have to hear it from someone else? That stupid gossip train, spreading rumors like wildfire..." He paused, his jaw clenched tightly. "To hear that we actually… love each other." His voice softened, laced with a vulnerability you’d rarely witnessed. "I always thought we had no secrets. We shared everything, right? So why this? Why did you keep this hidden, Y/N? What the hell are we doing?" The secret, once a delicate bud kept close to your heart, had finally bloomed into the open.

While you knew its petals would unfold eventually, you hadn't expected them to burst forth at 3 am, with Jeongin standing on your doorstep, his eyes a whirlwind of emotions. He stood before you, the moonlight tracing his silhouette against the doorway. "I like you, okay?" he blurted, his voice raw with a vulnerability you'd rarely seen. "So much more than you might even know." His confession, unexpected yet familiar, echoed back to you through the hushed hallway. You weren't surprised by the sentiment itself, but the sheer force of his delivery, the late-night timing, it all painted a picture of a storm brewing under his usual playful exterior. He continued, his voice taking on a self-deprecating tone, "I just wanted to have fun at the party, you know? But then your friend mentioned this crush you had, and wouldn't you know it, the 'lucky guy' turned out to be me. Can you believe it?" A wry smile flitted across your lips, the absurdity of the situation momentarily dispelling the tension. The clock on the wall ticked incessantly, each tick a tiny hammer tapping against the silence that hung heavy between you. "I really want to be your boyfriend," he pressed on, his voice dropping an octave. "Not just stuck in this 'best friend' zone anymore." He met your gaze, his eyes searching for some sign of reciprocation, some hidden echo of his own feelings. You remained silent, your heart an orchestra of indecision. The weight of his unspoken question, the years of shared laughter and secrets, it all settled on your shoulders like a tangible cloak. "But I didn't know," he admitted, a tremor in his voice.

"Didn't know if you could ever feel the same about a clutz like me. So I kept quiet, never dared to say it. Made you wait, maybe, for too long? Am I a jerk for that?" His question, laced with self-doubt and a hint of desperation, ripped through the veil of your silence. You weren't angry, not at him. This late-night confession, born from a mix of courage and uncertainty, deserved more than silence. It deserved honesty, a bridge built from whispered truths and shared vulnerabilities. His invitation hung in the air, a playful challenge disguised as a simple question. "Let's go on a date," he said, his voice laced with a teasing lilt. You hummed, your reply more of a gentle brushstroke against the canvas of the moment than a definitive answer. Glancing at the clock ticking away on the wall, you couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Right," you agreed, tracing the numbers with your finger, "a date sounds lovely. But maybe," you added, your voice dipping lower, "not at this ungodly hour." He closed the space between you, his warmth enveloping you like a familiar embrace. You inhaled the comforting scent of his cologne, a scent that now spoke of shared laughter and lingering kisses. "True," he conceded, burying his face in your hair. "Rest does sound tempting. But," his voice dipped to a conspiratorial whisper, "how about a rain check for tomorrow? A real date, with sunlight and stolen glances across a café table?" He tightened his hug, the gesture an unspoken plea and a promise all at once. "And," he added, his breath tickling your ear, "I'm far too lazy to crawl home tonight. This couch, with you nestled beside me, is far too perfect to abandon."

©Tinytinyblogs

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pigeonpeach · 9 months ago

Text

Something Happens and I’m Head over Heels

Dehya x fmab! professor reader

A/n: so I’ve done this dehya x fmab professor reader stuff in alot of compilations so i decided to do a actual piece dedicated to this idea! Its not my best work because i kinda rushed it but i promise I’ll do better!

Also suggestive themes!

You were smart and independent. A beauty in looks and brain, and also incredibly diligent. Your students admired you as you always seemed so refined, the ideal, the dream. You gave extensions for the exhausted and extra credit opportunities. That is to say you were a beloved professor of the Akademiya. Loved for your contributions and efforts, but behind it all you were human. As depraved as any could come. That mostly came in the form of Dehya, a Eremite you had hired once for a expedition you took with students, ending with a one night stand you couldn’t seem to shake off. Now friends with benefits. You had no qualms about Eremites, just pay them and everything is fine. Besides, crime is bred by poverty so rather than viewing those from the desert as less like a unfortunate amount of scholars did, you saw them as mistreated. You were always looking for charities to support and help educate and offer more opportunities. That’s why Dehya liked you.

“You have a brain but also a heart.” She said. “Both around the same size, you don’t sacrifice morality for knowledge but also you don’t sacrifice knowledge for morality in the right circumstances.”

She truly knew how to butter you up. You didn’t think so. No one is truly confident after all. Everyone is a little insecure… right? Everything was.. too perfect. It made you worry. When would it fall? Would they find out about Dehya and you rendezvous?

But also… just what were your feelings towards her. You thought she was the hottest damn woman in all of Sumeru, but was it love? You liked her, you liked talking to her, she was challenging in the right way. She sometimes was frustrating and stubborn but you had come to understand her more. Her stubbornness had initially infuriated you on expeditions but you had come to trust her. When she said not to go out today on the desert you obliged knowing she had a better sense for the coming storms than you.

The events of today were running through your head. You dissected every detail like it was a paper to grade.

“Hmm.. Collei is a diligent student so its certainly not her lack of effort. It is hard to learn literacy at her age. She’s not too interested in kids books is she.” You pondered. Tighnari sat across from you. You were at Pupsa Cafe discussing Collei’s curriculum.

“Unfortunately not. She seems embarrassed by needing them despite my efforts to assure her. She struggled with big words the most.” He commented. You pondered. Your students were young yes, mostly freshman but those were teenagers at the youngest. Teenagers who had read hard and advanced books before.

“Maybe we could write her a book. Nothing too fancy, just a visual dictionary to help her remember big words. I’m sure Kaveh would love to do the drawings.” You offered.

“That’s not a bad idea actually. I’ll collect a list of the words she struggles with the most and we’ll work from there.” His tail wagged slightly, you knew he’d been stressed over this topic for awhile.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Its my favorite little professor! And Tighnari? Its just my lucky day isn’t it!” A familiar voice caught your ears. Dehya. Tanned and fresh from a job, sweaty and all. The proud smile that a big wage would bring her.

“Oh Dehya its good to see you.” Tighnari responded politely. She sat next to you as if it was natural.

“You too. I actually was looking for you. There was this book on ancient flower species my client found but he wasn’t interested in. Figured you or Collei could use it.” She smiled. “And for you my dear professor I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? You didn’t have to Dehya really I- what is that.” Your excitement dropped upon seeing a long, huge feather. No doubt from the remains of a consecrated beast. You shivered just imagining that thing.

“Ran into one of these big fellows and dealt with him. Figured it’d look good in your classroom.” She smiled proudly.

“Its uh… nice but I usually don’t decorate my space. The teachers often share classrooms that’s why.” You answered.

“Welp itll look good in your office then.” She corrected.

“Rather impressive kill if I say so. Say what region was this specimen in, if I recall you were still in the jungle yes? It would concern me if consecrated beasts started showing up here.” Tighnari inquired.

“Hmm the barrier between the deserts and the jungle actually. It probably came from the desert. But it was nowhere near your region so don’t worry too much. I’ll keep an eye out though.” Dehya concluded.

“I’ll make sure to. By the way is there any recommendations you might have for collei? She’s still struggling to learn to read.” He asked.

“Oh collei! Oh i miss that little squirt! Hmm.. I say you reward her more for good grades. Like maybe take her to dinner if she finishes her books in time and such. Although that might fuel her fear of failure more.” She pondered. You couldn’t help but eye her sweaty body though, she absolutely smelled horrendous but your depraved mind could only think of how she smelt that way after a passionate night where you would be left gasping for air usually pinned or tied up in someway as she’d grin at you. Saying some cocky phrase like ‘now you’re quiet? You were so chatty before~’ to make you tense up and blush. God that thought made you tense as you shook your head to clear it.

“Are you okay?” Tighnari asked.

“Hm? Oh yes, just was thinking of those papers to grade. I’ve had alot to grade recently so I cherish the breaks i get, as well as the existence of coffee.” You held your cup to the skies like a prayer jokingly and took a sip.

“So you’re pretty worked up huh? I always know a few relaxation methods you and I could try.” She winked while Tighnari’s ears folded in annoyance. You tried not to show your embarrassment.

“I’m fine, I’m not done yet with them, but back to our main topic of Collei.”

From then the conversation was as usual. Eventually the idea of Collei getting a library card was formed and Tighnari left. You excused yourself to go back to the office to work. Although your papers weren’t helpful. You sighed. You were glad you had a week off, that way you would have plenty of time to finish grading. You looked back at that feather, you had placed it on your bookshelf that held many personal items, you smiled subconsciously before going back to work.

A knock at your door interrupted your peace. “Come in.” You said, expecting a student or colleague only to see none other than Dehya. “Oh dehya! What brings you here?”

“Well, Candace wanted me to deliver a thank you present from Aaru village. I heard you are helping fund the library Kaveh was helping to build. Course I know you helped out more than just that but Candace wanted me to ensure you got this.” She placed before you a mural similar to one you would have seen in temples or ruins. Of course it was a recreation, in which it depicted the schools of Deshret, with the teacher being similar to yourself. You smiled.

“Its a lovely gift I must say. Do tell her I don’t need anymore though. I simply just like to help others, I don’t need payment anymore than seeing their smiles.” You said. Dehya smiled at you with a warm and fond smile, one you had seen when a old man would look upon his wife as she came from the market. It made you a bit flustered yourself.

“You already know you’re my favorite scholar, but I really do hope the students you’ve taught end up like you. The world needs more people like you.” She said, you felt even more flustered at such a compliment. “I-in other words I wanted to also personally thank you for always being so supportive to the desert people!” She cleared her throat.

“I really do appreciate that sentiment though miss Dehya, I really do.” You said.

“Thank you so much miss! I promise I’ll do better on the retake!” Layla seemed so relieved.

“Its nothing. Just go over the study guide to see where you went wrong and see me in my office in a couple of days.” You smiled sending her off. You watched her leave as you felt exhaustion take hold. You had spent a entire week of endless grading and teaching, with only the little treats you would buy yourself to aid in your work. You had to do something otherwise you knew you would spiral into despair. Immediately what came to mind was the tavern, and Dehya.

“Must’ve been a tough week huh.” Lambad said in response to your order. You sighed in agreement.

“Its testing week so believe me I’m swamped right now.” You took your cup and downed it. Usually Dehya just materializes from somewhere when you’re like this. Somehow that woman can just smell the pathetic lust on you from a mile away. “I just need a little night of fun that’s all.. then i can get right back to work.” You grumbled. He chuckled pouring you another glass before heading off to deal with something else. You even instinctively ordered food, specifically Dehya’s favorite, Charcoal cakes and Skewers. You liked them too but your first thought was that she couldn’t resist a free meal. You sighed, when had you been this impatient? Where could she be? Well she hadn’t gone on a mission, she informs you of those things usually because you like to book her for stuff, she also is almost always at this tavern at this time.

“Boo!” A voice came from behind as you jumped in your seat, relaxing only when you recognized the familiar face. “Gotcha good huh?” She said sitting right next to you. You felt a bit more relaxed.

“I was wondering where you were at this hour.” You admitted. There was no point in hiding it.

“Figured, you didn’t order your usual but instead mine so I figured you were trying to summon me huh?” Her playful nature was just what you needed at this hour. You took a swig.

“Yep. I needed a distraction so I came here.” You said.

“I’m guessing that distraction is me isn’t it?” She joked. Maybe it was the wine kicking in but you just nodded rather than your usual defensive responses. Even Dehya seemed a but surprised at how relaxed you were being.

“You know it. What more could a pathetic lass like myself need to numb the pain.” You groaned. Dehya’s normal cock demeanor changed as she seemed worried.

“I-is everything okay?” She asked more seriously.

It wasn’t. You were loved by all but ultimately regarded as a background. To your students you stopped existing once they left the classroom, your colleagues would go on without you like always, but what stung the most and was the most bitterly painful was the loneliness that home presented. You had considered getting a pet but you worried about managing it. Even your crush Dehya was a conflict, you couldn’t expect her to wait at home for you, you knew she was a mercenary at heart, that she always loved adventures and the outdoors, you could never bring yourself to make her stay if she didn’t want to.

“Just feeling more lonely than usual. Works been keepin all my colleagues busy and my mood is in the dumps. I just need something you know?” You minimized your pain but you were still technically honest. Dehya seemed more concerned than excited like she usually was. Lambad didn’t seem to notice the shift in mood as he brought the food, but Dehya shot him a look to leave you be.

“There, enjoy your meal girls!” He said leaving to do something else. You sighed, taking another swig as Deyha observed you.

“Come on you don’t have to lose anything by telling me, archons knows I won’t tattle on you to any sages.” She said. You shook your head.

“Its not that important.” You dismiss again, but Dehya is unsatisfied.

“If you say so.” She says, but beneath her false acceptance is a plan to do something.

“Its cold outside, why are you taking me out in the wilderness at a time like this?” You whined a bit drunkenly. Dehya’s hand guiding you through the night. It was only a bit out of the main road to the city. The night was absolutely beautiful, your eyes were caught in the beauty for a moment as Dehya guided you to sit on a log while you were awestruck. The stars were reflected in the river below the cliff like a mirror, there was fireflies floating around, as if they were stars in the air that had fallen from the sky. You forgot everything for a moment.

“Beautiful right?” Dehya asked. You nodded. “You have something on your mind though. I can see, Tighnari, Kaveh, even Collei could see there was something you were bottling up. Sorry to go behind your back but we all were getting mighty worried you would end up like one of those teachers who died of stress.” She said. You were taken abakc, reminded of your circumstances.

“Its not actually because of work alone..” you paused, there was no reason to lie now,” I’m lonely Dehya. I’m a scholar, a teacher, an idol, and a inspiration who is ultimately never seen as anything other than that. I love the admiration but just once I wish someone looked upon me with more than admiration for my work but for my personality, desire, love.. I’m a helpless romantic with the worst love life imaginable.” You sighed.

“That’s.. really? Your colleagues don’t flirt with you or anything?” Dehya said.

“Nope. I know its a technically a good thing but… is it so wrong to want to be desirable? To be someone outside of my reports, my work, my job. I want to be somebody who is seen as a lover rather than just s scholar. I appreciate the respect yes, I love my job yes, I love helping people yes, but ultimately there’s no one to come home to. I am lonely, I am human. And humans are some of the most social creatures ever, they go insane without it. I tried to spend more time with friends but my work has gotten too much and… I just can’t take it anymore…” you tried not to cry. Years if insecurities veiled behind a genius mind were coming to light. “I want to be a person beyond my intelligence. I want to be loved, to be held, kissed, fucked, whatever! I just want someone to value me for something beyond than what i can do for them.” Dehya didn’t say a word, just sat by you tryng to judge your feelings.

“I-i didn’t know you had felt that way.. to be honest I’d assumed you could have just about anyone if you tried.” Dehya said. You sniffled, her ears perked as she realized you were crying. The stars illuminated your tears like the shine of a knife.

“I.. i love you dehya.. i know its not going to work. I know your heart wanders the lands and I know neither of our futures align well.. but goddamnit can you blame me? I haven’t had someone look at me the way you do in years! I haven’t hooked up with anyone but you, you push my buttons and boundaries and suddenly it does not feel wrong when you do it. When your hand touches me in areas I’d cover I don’t feel uncomfortable but rather I feel excitement. You provoke feelings in me I cannot handle and ultimately will never be able to satisfy.” You let out. “I understand if you’re uncomfortable with that.. but its how I’ve felt… i never wanted to let you know.. i didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Selfishly, I just wanted to cling to the only source of love I could get.. even if it was just for benefits.. because I love you…”

The air grew still. You felt embarrassment and shame as all those frustrations were gone, leaving you to wonder if you really should’ve just kept shut.

“You know.. its not impossible for us to be together right? I mean, I’m not saying either of us give up our jobs.. I’m just saying that plenty of Eremites have a family at home waiting. Not always in the Aaru village you know?” Dehya said awkwardly. But it wasn’t certain enough to alleviate your anxiety, it just made you feel guiltless for assuming that.

“Could you be more specific about what you mean?” You asked. Dehya sighed.

“I do love you too.” She said. You felt your heart stop, all thoughts and emotions completely ceased. “Hello?” She said with a concerned look. You felt yourself go limp and fall onto your lap as if your spine had been removed that instant.

“I feel like a idiot.” You mumbled as you felt boneless. The exhaustion of the stress and anxiety taking over.

“What was it you said? There’s a idiot in every genius? Something like that?”

“I said that every Scholar has their weaknesses in education and knowledge, but that’s close enough.” You sighed. Dehay hovered over you still concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes I’m just exhausted is all.” You sighed slowly. You truly are your worst enemy. A moment of silence passed as you regained your thoughts, Dehya trying to judge what next to say.

“Do.. do people really not flirt with you? Like.. you aren’t just oblivious right?” Dehya asked.

“I’m a teacher, that’s like the most unattractive profession. Scholars at least explore more possibilities, I rarely get the chance to do experiments on something that hasn’t been done for the past 10 semesters.” You whined. “But that’s not the point.. you like me too?”

“I think the word ‘like’ here is a little underestimating don’t you think? I mean we are grown women here, I’ve seen you naked and we have had sex. I think Love would be a appropriate term would it not professor?” That cheeky grin on her face would infuriate you normally but you were more stunned at her blatant reciprocation.

“But like.. is it just the sex? My body?” You pryed for details as she just smiled.

“Ma’am. Have you not paid attention to any of my compliments? You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met but you’re still so compassionate. As someone from the desert and a eremite I always get judgemental looks or viewed at like some primal savage just because I don’t know as much as they do!”

“That’s because the education in the desert wasn’t as good as us city folk have it, it doesn’t make you dumb or lesser then when you never had the opportunity to be more than average. If given equal opportunities then-“ dehya smiled at your oh so familiar statement.

“Exactly! See! You have compassion that most of your higher ups lack! You don’t write off people as dumb you work to help them! You don’t write me off as dumb just because I’m a eremite! I don’t see people like you very often. Interesting, compassionate, a little stuck up, but ultimately you’re a wonderful person! You care so much for others even if you don’t always show it as much. You aren’t just adored by your students for your intelligence but for your compassion. And for me, its a bit deeper than that. I love hearing you ramble and complain about your colleagues, i like laughing with you about petty workplace drama, i like how charitable you are, i like how you’re always willing to learn more and change your tatics, I like your smile, i like your laugh. Goddamnit I love you!” She sat closer go you now. You sat up, turning to face her more, a strong blush on your cheeks as you were left wordless, but also smiling.

“Y-you can’t just say those kind of things.. they always leave me so.. stunned.. i never thought anyone would love me if I’m honest… I.. i love you too dehya.. i want to live my life with you.. but how would it work?” You asked.

“Simple, I’ll just have to take more jobs around the jungle instead. I mean I’ve already been here lots of times, i’d just focus less on the desert unless its a very lucrative job. I’ll be home when I can as usual. Maybe we could even align it wit your work schedule. I mean its worth a shot at least?” She said, you noticed she was a little hesitant. You smiled.

“Its worth a shot.” You replied.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #domestic fluff #slightly angsty but not really #dehya x reader #wlw #fem reader #not my best work but i have to get rid of one of these drafts damnit #suggestive themes

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thefandomwritersblog · 8 months ago

Text

Ghost of the Ten

Horizon: Forbidden West

Hekarro x Fem!OldOne OC

Action/Adventure/Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Chapter 21

Part 3: Ghost of the Ten

"Hope is this thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all." --Emily Dickinson

Day Whatever The Fuck This Is,

I still think this whole diary thing is the stupidest thing on the planet, but….

Beta gets so proud every time she sees the charcoal stains on my hands. She says that she’s proud of me for trying, even if I do think this whole exercise is pointless. She’s a cute kid, her and her sister, though they couldn’t be anymore different than night and day. Beta’s a quiet kid, she likes to keep to herself, fiddle with little machines she tinkers with. She showed me a workshop that Petra set up for her in the Oseram Camp, she’s been helping them build the cranes the workers are gonna use to repair the crater walls.

Aloy’s the tough one, though. I can see it in her eyes; a hardness there that I know all too well. Like she had to build a wall between herself and the entire world. But when she’s with Beta I can see that wall soften, I can see the love and care they have for each other. It should make me angry; I don’t have that anymore. But all it does is just make me sad. Petra says that I’m incredible, but I just feel lost and lonely all the time despite how hard everyone is trying to keep me going. I wish they’d just stop.

It’d be so much easier to give up if they didn’t care.

The room was quiet aside from Victoria’s soft humming, who sat at her desk with a piece of charcoal in hand. Her fingers glided effortlessly over the parchment, leaving behind a trail of dark dust that she skillfully shaped into precise and purposeful strokes. As she worked, her gaze would occasionally drift to the delicate orchid sitting on the edge of her desk, its dewy petals glistening in the morning sun. She took a moment to appreciate its beauty before returning to her sketch. With each movement of the charcoal, she captured the intricate details of the flower's petals, carefully blending and shading to create depth and texture. She lost herself in the calming focus of her task until she finally leaned back to admire her work, the orchid nearly mirrored on the parchment.

It felt good to have some time for this again. She struggled to recall the last time she had sat and drawn; definitely before the Swarm. Victoria furrowed her brow as her gaze drifted to the wall above her desk. She remembered arguing with Maria then, though she couldn't quite recall what started the fight. She was home for the first time in months, sitting with a canvas and some paint in her apartment while her mama fussed around in the kitchen. Maria wanted her to take a break from her humanitarian work overseas - there had been a health scare and she just wanted their family together. But Victoria was always away, hardly ever returning for holidays or even calling (a guilt that still gnawed at her).

She had been determined not to budge. She finally found a career that brought fulfillment and purpose; something that made her feel like she was really making a difference.

It wasn't until after the Faro Plague reached its peak that Victoria spoke to Maria again, but even then it didn't feel like they had reconciled.

She should have spent more time with them. She should have been there.

Why are you alive and they’re not.

Closing her eyes, Victoria tried to block out the voices in her head.

“Victoria?” Hekarro called out from the other side of the curtained door, “May I come in?”

She frowned; he sounded sterner than usual. “Yeah.” she replied, “Sure.”

He ducked through, all dressed for business today in his armor and crown. He greeted her with a polite smile, but she could tell he was here for a purpose. Victoria then noticed the extra shuffle of feet and murmurs of voices outside the door, and then was surprised to see Dekka enter soon after Hekarro.

"I apologize for interrupting your peace, Victoria," Hekarro said with a slight bow and hand over his heart, “But I fear I must ask you to leave your room for a time.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Why?"

"There is a storm approaching from the west," Hekarro explained, "and we need to prepare the Grove before it arrives. Your room needs to be secured as soon as possible."

Dekka stepped forward and offered her a smile, “I can imagine you don't want to share your space while others are working, so I thought I'd ask if you'd like to join me for breakfast until they're done."

Victoria hesitated for a moment before muttering, "Sure, why not?" She moved the journal aside and got up from her spot. Hekarro gave her another smile as she walked past him and out the door, with Dekka close behind. The Tenakth guards quickly averted their gazes when they saw Victoria, their conversation falling into an uneasy silence. Dekka motioned towards the left down the hallway leading to the crater. She looked up at the bright blue sky as they stepped onto the crater's edge, following it towards the Maw.

"Didn't Hekarro say there would be a storm?" she asked. Dekka nodded and shooed away some of the guards away from the gates.

"Don't be deceived by the clear sky. Even on the outskirts of the Lowlands, a storm can appear before you know it. But for those who are aware, there are signs that give away its approach. The winds have been picking up from the west, and it carries the scent of thunder and rain. Our luck also held with a messenger from Thornmarsh arriving to warn us beforehand."

They entered the dimly lit mess hall, which was mostly empty except for a small group of exhausted Tenakth gathered around a table in one corner. In the center of the room stood a large, well-stocked kitchen with a blazing fire and a boar roasting on a spit. The delicious aroma filled her senses as they approached the counter, where a small Tenakth woman was bustling around cleaning.

"Chaplain," the woman greeted, "I was wondering if you would come by this morning."

Dekka chuckled, "It's been quite a busy start to the day."

"I heard. Poor thing ran all the way here from Thornmarsh. I made sure to give him some food; he's sleeping now."

"Good. Two bowls for us this morning." Dekka paused, thinking for a moment. "And also the Strike board, if you don't mind."

The cook grinned, "Right away, Chaplain."

The woman set to work in an instant, bringing over an intriguing-looking board and a heavy leather bag for Dekka to take. Both were handed to Victoria and she was directed towards a table against the far wall. "Could you bring these over there?"

"Uhhhh, sure?" Victoria responded with a shrug, doing as she was told. Dekka followed closely behind, carrying two piping hot bowls of breakfast. Once they reached the table, Victoria settled into her seat while Dekka sat across from her, placing one of the bowls in front of her before turning her attention to the board. As she removed tile pieces from the bag and arranged them on the board, Victoria couldn't help but watch curiously as she ate her rice, meat, and eggs. “Am I allowed to ask what we’re doing?”

The older woman chuckled, "Of course, there are no secrets here." She pulled out what looked like game pieces from the bag. Victoria picked one up and immediately recognized it as a machine similar to the one Aloy had saved her from. "We're going to play Machine Strike, or Strike for short. It's a simple game played on this board with different landscape tiles that determine movement and defense. Since you're new to the game, we'll stick with grassland tiles which offer no penalties or advantages. Then we choose our pieces, each worth a certain number of setup points. If your opponent destroys your machine, they receive those points. Each set can only have pieces whose points add up to ten. The first player to reach seven points or eliminate all of their opponent's machines wins. Each piece also has its own attack and defense powers listed at the bottom. Any questions?"

Victoria shrugged, shifting in her seat for comfort and leaning forward. “No, but I learn better by doing anyway.”

Dekka smirked, “Then pick your pieces.”

They fell into a comfortable as Victoria carefully picked out her Strike pieces, eventually deciding on a few that caught her eye. Dekka instructed her on how to position the pieces on the board, humming softly as they set up the game. "Bristleback, Bellowback, and Scrapper. An interesting combination choice. Let's see how it plays out. You first.”

The game started slowly, with Victoria stumbling through her turns as Dekka patiently corrected and guided her. Predictably, Victoria lost the first game by a landslide. She was allowed to switch out some of her pieces for the second round, choosing a Leaplasher instead of the Bellowback and a Grazer instead of the burrower. This time, she put up more of a fight but still ended up losing. Dekka smiled at her as they both collected their pieces and returned them to their respective sides of the board, nearly forgetting about their bowls in the process.

"You catch on quickly," Dekka commented. "I'm impressed. But your tendency to rush blindly into battle won't do you any favors in a strategy game like this."

“Yeah, mi mama always used to tell me I was too hotheaded for my own good.” Victoria chuckled and began gathering up her pieces, adding the Burrower back on her side of the board.

“A trait that has its time and place,” Dekka replied, the game starting again. She hummed as Victoria moved across the board, hesitate, then looked up at her with a curious look in her eye, “How are you adjusting?”

“Fine,” Victoria shrugged, “I guess.”

“I'm glad to hear that. I'll admit I was worried about you for a while,” Dekka said, her focus back on the Strike board. “It's good to see that you've been going on more walks with Hekarro and Beta lately.”

“Well, it's not like they give me much of a choice,” Victoria grumped.

Dekka laughed heartily, “I suppose they don't. Beta can be quite stubborn in her own way. And I know the Chief well enough to know he wouldn't let you languish if he could help it.”

Victoria tried not to perk up at that and instead focused on her next move, frowning when Dekka's Plowhorn took out her Burrower. “You've known Hekarro for a long time then?”

"Since he was just a little boy. I still remember the day he was born, so small compared to his parents. Oh, how proud they would be of him now. He's become more of a legend than a mere man these days."

"Hekarro? Small?" Victoria couldn't help but smirk, and Dekka chuckled again.

"It's hard to believe, isn't it? There was a time when we were worried he wouldn't make it. Life was tough for the Clans back then. The Clan Wars claimed Hekarro's parents before he could even walk, so how could a young boy like that survive in our world? But even at such a young age, you could tell Hekarro was sharp. Much sharper than most people gave him credit for, much more adaptable. That served him well during those early years. And when he finally came into his own, after spending years at Fenrise, under the supervision of the Enduring, his cleverness only made him a force to be reckoned with.”

Victoria moved her Leaplasher closer to Dekka's Grazer, smirking as she destroyed Dekka's Scrounger. "So is that how Hekarro became chief?"

"In part," Dekka replied, retaliating by taking out the Leaplasher with her Plowhorn. "Hekarro was Commander of Thornmarsh before becoming chief. He led the Lowland Clan to numerous victories against the Desert and Sky Clans."

Victoria scowled at the game board. "You’d mentioned a Clan War."

"Exactly so," Dekka confirmed. "A war that lasted countless generations, since our tribe's founding. Differences in lifestyle and interpretations of the Visions found in the Grove led to conflicts, which only fueled more resentment and retaliation among the clans. It wasn't uncommon for Tenakth to die at a very young age back then."

"So, what? Hekarro was just a warlord then? How did he become chief if you all couldn't even get along? What changed?"

There was a long pause as Dekka strategized her next move with her Plowhorn, "Hekarro changed. Don't let his current demeanor fool you, Victoria. He is still a formidable warrior, and like all warriors, he had ambition. The Grove has always been sacred to us, even before the unification of the Tenakth. What better way for Hekarro to solidify his legacy and legend than by laying claim to something no one else ever could? And when he stood among the fallen in the aftermath of his victory, your Mother's Vision came to him alone. Anne Faraday's call for peace resonated with him, and it changed him. It changed all of us, and our lives have only been better because of it. Without her Vision, I doubt our tribe would still exist today."

Victoria moved her Grazer back and inched her Bellowback forward, “How so?”

“Not long after we united under Chief Hekarro, a tribe from the east began to lay waste to our Utaru allies across the mountains. This conflict became known as the Red Raids, and if we had been fighting amongst ourselves instead of joining the Utaru against a common enemy, it's likely we would have been wiped out. Then came the Derangement of the machines, the Blight, the Blood Choke… All of which we survived because we were stronger together as a Tribe, than apart as the Clans.”

Dekka emerged triumphant after the third round, taking the board and bowls to the counter while Victoria was lost in her own thoughts. The fact that she had slept for a thousand years hit her with full force once again. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the rich history of the tribe she coexisted with, and even harder to dismiss the impact her mother had on it all. She couldn't help but feel frustrated that even after a millennium and with Anne long gone, Victoria was still unable to escape her mother's shadow.

Movement caught her eye, and she looked over to see Hekarro entering the mess hall. The Tenakth in the corner immediately perked up, greeting their chief loudly as he walked past them. Hekarro stopped to chat with them, filling the room with laughter and his deep baritone voice. It was hard to reconcile this man with the image of a bloodthirsty warlord. While Hekarro could be stern when necessary, Victoria couldn't imagine him being terrifying or merciless when he had worried about her enough to force her to eat and accompany her on walks just so she wouldn't be alone. And hanging orchid vines above her bedroom tree because they made her happy? A warlord just… wouldn’t do something like that. Maybe, deep down, he had always had the capacity to care about others because people like what he was before hardly ever changed.

“Victoria?” Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up, surprised to see Hekarro's warm, honey-gold gaze. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed him approaching her. He tilted his head and smiled softly, “Is everything alright?”

She shook her head, “Yeah, sorry. My mind was somewhere else.”

“It is of no consequence, Victoria. We’ve finished securing your room, and are free to return to it when you want. Did you enjoy your morning with Dekka?”

Victoria shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. She taught me how to play Strike? And she taught me a little of your tribe’s history.”

Hekarro chuckled, “I fear much of our history is quite tedious across the generations.” He watched her as she stood, a curious look in his eye as he fell into an easy stride next to her. Victoria nodded as they left the mess hall and veered right towards the gates to the main road.

“Yeah, Dekka said you tribe suffered from Clan Wars and… the Red Raids?”

“Yes, we did. I suppose it must be ironic for you, considering your own experiences with this place. A monument to death and loss, as you called it. Something that the Tenakth can't seem to escape.”

"You're working towards a new name for it though. A different history.” As they walked down the road, she furrowed her brow and looked out at the ruins. “Maybe… maybe losing your past isn't entirely a bad thing."

“Why do you say that?”

"Well, sometimes it's easier to let go of a curse if you don't know its origins." She hesitated before adding, "This place used to bring you comfort, but now it's tainted because I can't let go of everything it took from me. You have the opportunity to give it a new purpose."

They paused to look over the museum—The Grove— and Hekarro hummed softly at her side, offering another smile that sent her nerves fluttering in her stomach, “A purpose, I should think, that I hope you get to see, Victoria. A poetic justice to see this monument turned from death and loss to one of hope.”

“Yeah…maybe…”

Day Whatever The Fuck This Is,

Note to self, learn how to play Strike better.

I challenged Petra to a match and got my ass kicked, and if I have to hear her gloat one more time over it, I’m gonna fucking lose it.

#horizon forbidden west #hekarro #hfw #chief hekarro #ghost of the ten #hzd #horizon zero dawn #my writing #hfw fanfic #old one oc

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mr-orion · 1 year ago

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ok I must have more lore on this Icarus I keep seeing since I’m officially in love with him and want to kiss

he and I should kiss

also may I draw him bc that drawing you posted of him gossiping tickles my brain so much-

"I guess if the inspiration strikes... me being your muse must happen."

Oh boy. He's a bit of a firecracker and not very PG. He's in fact, kind of mean. As for the kissing, you and Ray both, though I think Icarus will shake you down for all your cash before you start getting any affection. As for drawing, yeah! I'm always grateful for any drawings and honestly treasure each one I get!

I don't see the harm in saying it as it is. He's a prostitute and escort. Man is raking in the big bucks working under Stags INC. The only reason Ray and him are friends is because Icarus has a lot of intel on the people manning the cartels. While Ray initially got his cooperation by bargaining to sweep his drug use under the carpet, he found Ray is a fun guy and not too sleazy to be around. Plus he's fun to tease, which is Icarus' favorite thing.

He's a Stav'raw, as opposed to Ray who is an Auveri. Unlike Ray he cannot fly. He has dense bones and his wings are only good for a glide. Which, he doesn't preen them. He was never taught so he is absolutely matted with feathers he hasn't thought to pull out. He's actually much more vibrant but because he's so fucking crusty with feathers from his whole existence you can't really tell. Additionally the sclera of his eyes is black. Along with his mouth and lips. He also gave himself a split tongue.

He comes from a very neglectful household with a mother who was a first generation Earthian and a non-existent father. He found his profession as a way out of that bad situation. Though Icarus' dream job is being able to help kids someday. He wants to be a pediatrician for alien children, believing that if one adult had noticed the abuse happening to him he could have been helped.

While Icarus doesn't think he'll make it because of his job history, Ray encourages him. Also reassures him that there are other ways he can help people. While Icarus is bummed he's only just starting to get into the 9 years of schooling at 28, he remains hopeful.

His hobbies consist of video games, nursing classes, clubbing, taking his dogs for walks along the beach, and riding his motorcycles around.

Another fun fact is that this man is absolutely the best of friends with Rays older brother Rowan. Though he has no clue the two are related because they look nothing alike and it's just never comes up. It will be chaos when all three of them figure it out and Rowan tries to beat him for trying to rizz up his beloved sibling. Ray will also get a scolding for bringing sweet, innocent Icarus into his less ethical detective practices. Ha.

Additionally, in freak coincidence Rowans child, is also his niece! He genuinely had no clue until one night in a deep conversation his best friend opened up about how similar Icarus looks to his niece, Onyx's egg donor. Icarus developed an even deeper hatred for his twin sister that night upon Rowan opening up even more about what his sister did to him. (It gets real fucking dark, so I'll spare those details.)

Icarus absolutely hates talking about his blood relations unless its Onyx. Who he treasures deeply and is so proud of. And by proxy Rowan. Of course. Who is his bro, his best friend, his pogchamp.

I can't think of much more, if you want to know something specific please feel free to send more asks!

#art #ocs #character art #my ocs #sketch #drawing #digital drawing #digital #oc ramble

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desdemonafictional · 10 months ago

Text

Post canon WIP (Scene 1)

“I’ve been thinking,” Kabru said.

Annoyingly, Laios did not look up from the encyclopedia he was flipping through. He’d had a wistful, almost pained expression on his face for the last several minutes as he paged through the book that Mithrun had leant them. It was a detailed record of monsters known in the west, their appearances and habits and weaknesses, aimed at an audience of future Canaries destined for the dungeons of the outside world.

At first Laios had been thrilled, commenting constantly on this fact or that fact, and the quality of illustrations, and points where he happened to know the encyclopedia had gotten something wrong. But bit by bit, he’d gone quiet. And now he simply sat there, with that look on his face, as if the book hurt him to touch.

Kabru sat down on the edge of the table and placed his finger over the page.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said again.

Laios looked up.

“I know this life isn’t the one you wanted,” Kabru said. “We’re all grateful… I’m especially grateful, for what you’ve done. And I know… how it is with desires, I’ve seen what it costs to give up a part of yourself. But I’ve said this to someone else before—maybe the thing you used to want is beyond you now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have new desires. New interests.”

Laios gave him a tired look. “You’re talking about my curse,” he said. “Kabru, it’s fine. I’ve made peace with it. At the end of the day, there’s still books and things.” He gestured at the encyclopedia, as if it hadn’t just been making him miserable. “Just because I can’t see monsters up close anymore doesn’t mean I want to forget about them.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Kabru said. “I meant—without giving up on monsters, you can have other, different things as well, right?”

He slid the book aside, carefully marking the page before closing it.

“Let me teach you about people,” Kabru said. “People are really interesting! A human bite is functionally poisonous, and humans are actually very difficult to kill despite having no natural weapons—the things a human can do, not just dwarves and elves but tallmen too, and halflings—we’re amazing animals, incredibly adaptable, physiologically and mentally.”

“I don’t know,” Laios said, “humans are…”

Kabru considered him for a moment, appraising his uneasy, twisted expression. There were bits he’d learned about Laios, here and there, that suggested a story that Kabru had never dared ask directly about.

“Let me guess,” Kabru said, “and tell me if I’m wrong. Humans are something other to you, right? Something irrational. Alien. Humans took your childhood and destroyed it. Humans drove you from your home, hurt the people you loved. The harm came out of nowhere, without explanation, and you were powerless against it. You lived in fear of them, and even now, in some ways, you’re still afraid. Deep down, you find the idea of them revolting.”

Laios’s face was white. His fingers clenched in the fabric of his trousers, bloodless.

“Am I making the comparison clear enough?” Kabru asked.

“I don’t…” Laios said. “You’re not revolting to me.”

As much as he’d like to say otherwise, some small part of Kabru was relieved to hear it. Laios had said he liked him, had called him a friend, but Laios was so difficult to understand sometimes. And Kabru worried. He had always worried, ever since he met Laios.

“Thanks,” Kabru said, making light of it. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Laios didn’t smile. “The Winged Lion said some similar things to me,” he admitted. “And it’s true, there have been times in my life when I hated humans, when I wished for—um. Things that would probably scare you. But I also… know that I can’t ever really give up on being a human. Not just because of the curse…”

Laios ran his fingers through the downy feathers at the neck of his cloak, as if he was soothing himself.

“When I was a kid, I wanted to stop being human so badly it hurt. But when I was transformed, all I did was kill—I didn’t recognize anyone, not even the people I wanted to save most in the world. What I really wanted, all along, was to have it both ways. To be a monster, and also be myself.”

Taking a chance, Kabru reached out and took Laios’s hand. Broad and narrow, pale and dark, but they had the same callouses. He gave a squeeze.

“If you look at it the right way, I think you can have it both ways,” Kabru said. “Sort of.”

Laios frowned up at him.

“Let’s think about humans as a kind of monster,” Kabru went on. “What are their habits? Their strengths? What drives them, what makes them act like they do? I’ll teach you. Like I said, it’s really very interesting. Humans are driven by instinct as much as any other animal. They have predictable behaviors, once you understand the mechanisms.”

He squeezed again and then let go.

“Hunger, attraction, territoriality—We like to think we’re different than other creatures, but we’re really not,” Kabru said. “We’re just a bit more complicated, because of language.”

He opened the encyclopedia back up and paged through until he found the direwolf Laios had been chattering about earlier. “You said direwolves have a social family structure, just like humans. And just like humans, they can have abusive family dynamics, right? If the lead female bullies the younger females, the younger ones might rise up and kick her out of the pack, isn’t that what you said? So then, sometimes they don’t rise up. Why only sometimes?”

Laios blinked at Kabru’s finger. “You were listening to that?”

“I told you,” Kabru said. “I want to understand. When I watch you, I believe that there must still be some value in monsters. If you see something beautiful in them, then there must be something beautiful in them.”

He considered the illustration for a long moment, each tuft of fur with its own graceful motion, the detail rendered so closely, with such care of knife against block print.

“Things that are frightening can also be beautiful, don’t you think?”

#dungeon meshi #spoilers

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sissa-arrows · 1 year ago

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is there anything we should know about the “barbary slave trade”? am i right in thinking the western nations went to war twice over white slavery and ended it before they abolished atlntic african slave trade?? Also what abought Tamazight/ Amazigh nationalism? Sorry if this is too much

TLDR:

Barbary slave trade did exist it was different from the transatlantic slave trade and colonialism actually didn’t happen to stop it. They used it as an excuse long after because it sounded better than the truth.

The majority of what people identify as Amazigh nationalism is actually not nationalism but legitimate demands that are nothing more than simple rights. The rest is complete bullshit that often comes from diaspora kids in Europe (especially France) who are filled with internalized racism and have an identity crisis.

More details below the cut it’s long beware 😂

First thing first when one think about slavery the first thing that comes to mind is the transatlantic slave trade so I will start by explaining how the Barbary slave trade was DIFFERENT. Different does not mean good it means different.

The Barbary slave trade wasn’t based on race and the majority (not all) of the slaves were sailors whose ship had been seized by the Barbary pirates. The pirates would then decide if it was a better option to sell the prisoner or to ask for a ransom and go ahead with said better option. The Ottoman Empire had a rule forbidding taking a fellow Muslim as a slave, the « Barbary coast » aka the North African coast was part of/allied with the Ottoman Empire depending on the time and region so the pirates respected that rule. Those who reverted or those who were already Muslims were automatically freed. It was approved by the local rulers for two reasons they didn’t mind and the pirates were not people you should anger they would totally organize coup against the rulers they disliked.

Now the West especially France LOVES to pretend the colonization of Algeria happened to stop the Barbary pirates to take white slaves. This is a fucking lie. They colonized Algeria for two reasons first and main one is that they owed a ton of money to Algeria. During the Egyptian campaign Napoleon’s troops ended up lacking in food/wheat at the same time the south of France was lacking in food/wheat so bringing the wheat from France wasn’t an option. Algeria was the granary of Africa so Napoleon asked for some wheat Algeria was like « okay we can sell you wheat » Napoleon was like « meeeeeh I don’t have the money right right now give me a loan » Algeria said no. A family in Algeria decided to not mind their business and get into it. Algeria accepted to give the loan. 29 years later Algeria still didn’t have the money. France refused to pay saying that the debt was contracted by Napoleon not the current king (Charles X) anyway so why should he pay. It wasn’t even the same regime… France sent a consul with the order to NOT accept any deal. The Dey of Algeria got angry and he gave a slap with his fan to the consul (he used a fucking feather fan meant to fan away flies… even with ALL his strength it wouldn’t have been painful). France takes it as an opportunity to call it a declaration of war and attack Algeria. The second reason is that Charles X was losing power he needed a win on top of it the British empire wasn’t doing that bad so Charles X thought Algeria could be that win.

So they didn’t even colonize North Africa to stop the Barbary slave trade. It’s just that later they figured it sounded better to say it was to stop slavery than to admit it was about trying to save a dying reign and to avoid paying a debt.

I’m mentioning specifically Algeria and France because that’s what I know best AND because to my knowledge only France tried to justify colonialism with that argument and I know for sure it’s bullshit. It’s common knowledge that it started with the « coup d’éventail » but somehow France managed to rebrand it as a fight against slavery because it sounds better.

As for Amazigh nationalism. I’m an Arabized Algerian. I do have an Amazigh culture but it’s mixed and Arabized. So I am not the best to answer. That being said there’s two types of « Amazigh nationalism ».

The first one is not even nationalism in my opinion but it’s often wrongly identified as such. It’s not really Amazigh nationalism because their demands are just legitimate obvious stuff I don’t call that nationalism and because Imazighen are composed of multiple tribes with similarities and differences. While people often support each other their demand are specific and different. This first group is the more common the ones that just want to be recognized as such they don’t want to be Arabized they acknowledge that the ones who have been Arabized are not actual Arab colonizers. From what I saw and know those are the majority. I 100% support them. I’m friend with many of them some are my family members. I learned a lot with them. Honestly regardless of my personal experience and opinion what they are asking is perfectly normal and I would be a fucking bitch if I denied that it wasn’t nothing more than a simple right. Having the option to fill paperwork in their language, having classes in said language… it’s totally legitimate.

Then there’s the second category. Those are a small minority but oh boy how loud they are. They often live in France. They know nothing about their history and culture they just spit bullshit out of nowhere to calm their identity crisis and internalized racism. Very often the first category of Amazigh nationalists joke and ask them « do your parents even know that your Amazigh? » because they often come from Arabized family.

Basically France labels all North Africans as Arabs and France hates Arabs. So when they have an identity crisis the non Arabized North Africans resent that forced Arabization imposed by France and they resent the Arabized because he is either an Arab colonizers or he is a traitor who labels himself as Arabs and is the reason why they get labeled as Arabs themselves and get hated because of it. The more common one in this second category is the one who is Arabized he internalized all that racism and then one day he realized his ancestors were most likely not Arabs and he ran with it. They mix everything their parents don’t even know their child is amazigh. They be like « Us Imazighen people do X » and it’s something very specific from one tribe but if you have the audacity to say « hey just a heads up it’s not all Imazighen who do that it’s only these tribes » they feel insulted and say you misunderstood them and start being super condescending. Nobody likes them and they are only popular in far right western space who want to use them to absolve themselves of colonialism and to destabilize North African countries and in white liberal spaces who think they are representative of their region and will then turn around and attack OTHER NORTH AFRICANS who disagree…

Anyway it’s long and I’m rambling at this point. So I’ll stop I don’t even know if I answered your questions.

#ask #don’t know how to tag this

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