#also the blue one only has one eye? half an eye? hard to describe the Cyclopes thing hedgehogs got

[fishyartist]

Microorganisms born from the tube. I was trying to draw yuri of sonics two moms the other day but I got distracted and drew some small freaks instead. Plot idea in my mind is they’re petri dish babies who escape from some lab but get separated, and through a comedy of errors keep missing eachother as they meet different groups of characters.

#idk if I’m gonna be sonic mode much longer so I’m not tagging #and I don’t want expectations hanging over me if I’m not ^u^ #not a garentee of nothing else tho. I just genuinely don’t know #we shall see my mind is fickle in its focus #also the blue one only has one eye? half an eye? hard to describe the Cyclopes thing hedgehogs got #but yeah there’s nothing behind that closed lid #so goddamn funny bc my process was yuri->sonic+shadow fusion-> oh these are Sonadow fan kids huh #my art #fan art

[echobx]

not my type - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: you meet Rafe at a bar and he starts flirting with you. little do you know that he's also the reason you are in the obx at all because you are taking care of a business deal for your dad

warnings: swearing, smut (p in v (protected), face sitting, dirty talk)

word count: 3k

author's note: for my wifey @notdxbya <3 also, I'm aware that Rafe is a little ooc here, that's because I pictured him after Ward is dead, and he has gotten clean and is healthy and taking care of business. that's all. this is my first time actually writing Rafe and I'm lowkey scared lol

You are sitting at a bar and the guy a few seats over keeps looking at you. Usually when guys looked at you, they did it with a kind of disgust, but he looked more intrigued than anything.  “What's your issue, asshat,” you scoff without looking at him, downing your drink.  “Nothing, just looking,” he shrugs his shoulders, a smirk playing on his pink lips.  “You're not my type,” you say, eyeing him carefully. The short light blonde hair, muscles covered by a flimsy linen button down, gold rings bejeweling his long fingers.  “Shame. You aren't mine either,” he replies, but he licks his lips; his eyes darting down to your cleavage. Boobs pressed together in a red corset.  “That why you keep looking?” you laugh and gesture at the bartender to get you another drink. 

“Where are you from?” the guy asks while getting up and walking over to you, taking the seat next to yours. He’s tall, taller than any guy you'd ever been with.  “Not from here,” you smile cheekily and take a sip from your drink.  “I figured,” he laughs, and it sounds genuine. “I'm Rafe, by the way.”  “Y/n,” you reply, taking his hand that he's holding out for you to shake.  “So, what are you doing here?” he asks.  “I don't know if I should share such information with a stranger,” you whisper.  “Stranger? We're on a first name basis already, sugar.”  “Sugar?” you lift an eyebrow, and he rubs his jaw, maybe to show defeat, but you're not sure.  “Guess, I'm too cocky for you.”  “No, I like it when guys know what they want. But as we've already established, we're not each other's type,” you remind him. 

“And what is your type?” he asks, leaning against the bar and looking at you through his blue eyes.  “I'm not into blonde guys,” you say and take another drink. “I know why I'm not your type, not even hard to figure that one out. It's always the same with guys like you.”  “Guys like me?” He seems offended by your assumption, but you elaborate anyway.  “Guys who live off daddy's money, who spent their whole days golfing or fucking; preferably a different skinny bitch every single day. Guys who think they are the epitome of humanity,” you say, not really paying as much attention to his wonder struck face as you should. “Guys like you would never go out with a girl like me, because social standards are the only thing you ever believed in.”  “Interesting. Are you always this shallow or do I have to go dye my hair?” he jokes.  “I speak from experience,” you look at him, and he purses his lips for a moment before emptying his glass.  “Just a year earlier and you might've been spot on there, sugar.” “I'm rarely wrong,” you whisper. “What changed?”  “My dad died.”  “My condolences.”  “It's okay, I'm over it by now,” he shakes his head lightly.  “I see,” you look away and let the uncomfortable silence settle between the two of you. 

“Are you gonna tell me where you're from?” he asks.  “You can guess. Got a free pass on it after my half right assumptions,” you smile, and he reciprocates it, adding a little huff.  “All right. You're on vacation, no boyfriend, and you're just looking for a little fun.”  You laugh loudly. “You just described literally every girl in this bar. Try a little harder, darling.”  “Okay, fine. You're from the city. You know what you want and are not afraid to take it.”  “Warmer, but still not there,” you wink at him.  “Okay, help me out here, sugar,” he sighs defeated.  “Just give me one weirdly specific one, doesn't have to be correct, just try it,” you search his eyes for a second before looking away again.  “You made a completely wrong assumption about a stranger based on your insecurities.” His words hit you hard and raw, but you didn't let it show.  “Enlighten me, then,” you challenge him, and he leans in to whisper in your ear. “You don't think I think you're hot, when the opposite is the case.”  Your heart starts pounding in your chest, and you feel the all too familiar heat rise in your cheeks and stomach.  Clearing your throat, you down your drink, immediately asking for another one.  “Didn't expect that one, did’ya,” he taunts.  “Shame that you're not my type,” you flip your hair to the side, running your fingertips over the edge of the glass in front of you.  “I could change your mind on that,” he suggests.  “I'm not keeping you from trying,” you chuckle, and the next few hours are spent with shameless flirting and drinking. 

The next day you get yourself ready for a meeting. You are supposed to meet with some rich asshole and work out a deal that will benefit both his and your dad's company.  You get to the meeting early, making sure that your suit fits and checking your makeup in the restroom before letting the receptionist lead you to the conference room.  “Mr. Cameron will be with you in a bit,” she tells you, eyeing you wearily before stepping away.  You set up your laptop and the paperwork, but the man is late, something you have always hated. You walk to look out the window and onto the sea when you hear the door open and someone walks in.  “Thank you for taking some time and waiting for me, there was an incident in the office that I needed to take care of,” he says and sits down without looking at you and not seeing the shocked expression on your face. Rafe looks even hotter in the suit than he had the night before, and you hate that you even think of him like that.  “No problem,” you smile and walk behind him to your seat when his head perks up.  “You-” the words seem to be stuck in his throat.  “I'm supposed to take care of this deal since my father has an important appointment in New York that came in just yesterday,” you explain.  “I see. We should get to it then,” he nods and after three hours of extensive discussion you have finally come to a mutual agreement that you know will be to your father's liking. 

“Why didn't you mention any of this last night?” he asks.  “If I had known your last name, I would've. But also, you should update your website. I was prepared to meet with someone else, your dead father, I presume.” “Yes, I should,” he mumbles.  “Good,” you nod and pack your things together, wanting to leave and get back home as quickly as possible.  “Do you like dinner?” he blurts out just as you are about to step out of the room.  “Who doesn't?” you smirk.  “Would you go out with me?” Rafe asks more directly, and you bite your cheek before nodding.  “Good, I'll pick you up later. You're staying at the Country Club, right?” he asks and you nod again.  “Perfect. 8pm, I won't be late,” he smiles, and you laugh a little while stepping out and walking. 

The evening came quicker than you expected, and you found yourself sitting opposite Rafe at a fancy restaurant.  “Are you always trying this hard for a hookup?” you ask bluntly, and he nearly chokes on his steak.  “Excuse me?”  “You heard me pretty well,” you say and take a bite of your food. “I usually don't, no,” he finally answers, nipping on his wine. “You're very direct.”  “That something bad?” you cock an eyebrow and he shakes his head.  “No. It's nice, like a fresh breath even. Dating is rather boring when you've lived in the same spot your whole life.”  “Never had any issues with it to be honest, at least when it comes to the diversity of it.”  “Hardly comparable, New York and Kildare,” he notes.  “So, this is a date?” you question, and he smiles to hide the light blush that creeps on his cheeks.  “Would your dad be okay with you dating a business partner?”  “My dad isn't here, and we don't know if this is a date yet,” you counter, and he puts his hands up in defense.  “I'm not about to ruin a good deal is all I'm saying.”  “Well, you're still not my type, so it's probably better anyway.”  “Right,” he mumbles and gets back to eating. 

After some time you find back to a more easy-going manner, just like you had the night before. But the more he flirts with you, the less you can remember why you had initially not had any interest in him. 

“I just have one question,” you say as you stand next to him in the elevator that leads you down to the garage where he had parked.  “And?”  “Have you ever even been with anyone like me?” you eye him wearily as he's towering next to you.  “No, but there's always a first time round, right?”  In a split second decision you pull him down by his collar and kiss him. His lips are soft and warm and his tongue is dancing with your own, his hands are grabbing your ass harshly.  You would continue to make out with him if the elevator doors didn't open to let in a few more people. It was unnecessary to pretend like nothing had happened because he has your lipstick all over his face, and you put your hand in front of your mouth to hide your wide grin. 

Rafe drives like a maniac, but you don't mind it while his hand is holding onto your thigh, squeezing harshly.  “I don't think that's the right way,” you tell him, but he just smiles at you and keeps driving without saying anything.  You come up to a mansion, and he parks out front and helps you out, like a true gentleman.  “That your place?” you ask and he nods.  “Thought you might want a little more privacy,” he says and leads you inside. 

The marble floors are pretty but nothing compared to the ones in your apartment on the Upper East Side.  “Cute,” you note. “Wanna show me around a little?” You are aware that he wants nothing more than to just drag you upstairs, but you like how desperate he looks, and you'd like to keep looking at it even if just for a few more minutes.  “Uh, sure,” he sighs and leads you around, showing you the kitchen and living room before going upstairs.  “That's the office and over there's the-” “Bedroom?” you interrupt him and he smirks.  “Yes, unless you'd rather see the whole estate and the boats and-” You cut him off with a kiss, feeling him smile against your lips. 

The two of you stumble backwards into the room, helping him take off his shirt before pushing him onto the bed.  “I don't like selfish assholes,” you state firmly, slowly opening the buttons of your blouse.  “Understood.” He props himself up on his elbows and admires you as you strip for him, leaving nothing but your lingerie on your body.  “You still think you can handle this?” You straddle him in his seat and he gulps but nods. His hands rub over your body, over every single curve that you had once been insecure about.  “God you're hot,” he hums and starts kissing your tits, sucking on the nipple while his hand is kneading the other. You start rutting against him, his dick twitching under you. 

“Can I sit on your face, darling?” you ask a little unsure about his answer but the enthusiastic yes he gives you makes you even more aroused than you already were.  You stand, and he pulls your slip down, starting to kiss your stomach and thighs.  “Take your pants off, please,” you order and he does it before lying down. 

You climb on top, and he harshly pulls you up to his face. Your weight rests on your thighs next to his head as you hover over him. “I’m not going to sit down completely if you don't want that. I'm not gonna be responsible for your death, darling.”  “I'm gonna be all right, sugar,” he smirks and starts kissing your wet cunt.  “God, you're wet for me, baby,” he moans desperately and pulls you down, thrusting his tongue into you and eating you out as if his life was dependent on it. With every lap of his tongue your orgasm grew closer, and you fell forward against the headboard, holding yourself up with your arms as you moaned and gasped. He sucks your clit into his mouth, making you scream with pleasure, and instinctively grind your pussy over his face as soon as he lets go again. He grabs your ass, practically forcing you to roll your hips into him and making his nose repeatedly nudge against your clit until you come undone on top of him. He keeps on eating you out until he has licked every last bit of your release from your sensitive cunt. 

“Yeah, you're definitely not into blonde guys,” he laughs as you lie next to him, heavily panting.  “Definitely.”  You watch him grab a condom from the nightstand and a few moments later he's balls deep inside of you, filling you out like no one ever had. 

“Jesus, fuck, you feel so good, sugar,” Rafe praises you.  “Don't you fucking dare,” you moan as he hits your cervix, making you squirm under him.  “Shit, you want me to be mean to you? I can do that,” he laughs and pulls out again, manhandling you onto your stomach and pulling your ass in the air. “That's the best ass in the fucking world, sugar,” he moans while pushing into you again.  “Fuck, Rafe,” you scream because his thrusts hit even deeper in this position and his balls keep slapping against your clit.  “You wanna act like a bitch, you gotta be able to take it,” he grunts, slapping your ass and making you whine.  “More,” you beg, and he leans down to bite your waist.  “Won't be able to wear anything revealing unless you want everyone to know how much of a slut you are being for me,” he growls and wraps your hair around his hand in a makeshift ponytail to pull your back flush to his chest. “What would your daddy say if he knew how we finalized his deal? If he knew that the only reason I went easy was because I wanted to rail his darling daughter. If he knew that I got to defile you.” 

“Rafe,” you have tears in your eyes, but he’s nowhere close to stopping, and you really don't want him to ever stop. You love how full of him you feel.  Rafe takes his hand and starts playing with your tits while the other comes down to rub your clit. “You wanna cum on my dick, sugar? Wanna make daddy proud?”  You whine in response, and he stops touching you, pushing you back down and lying down on top of you. His thrusts are relentless and harsh while your make-up runs down your face.  “Such a good slut for me. Might just keep you here as my personal sex slave. Would you like that, sugar?” His hot breath is on your ear, and you cry out as he goes to slap your thigh. “Answer me.”  “Yes, Rafe. Am your slut. Only yours.”  “Wasn't that hard, was it,” he groans and sits back up, pulling your ass back up with him. 

He's still not stopping, and you don't know where he got that much stamina from because every time you try to crawl away from his dick he keeps pulling you back. "Tststs, don't you dare,” he admonishes and slaps you harsher each time.  You're so close to cumming, but he won't let you, no matter how much you whine and beg.  “I know you can take it. I'm not gonna let you cum until I'm done with you. A deal's a deal,” he laughs and fucks you even faster.

Your throat has gone sore from all the screaming and moaning when he finally starts playing with your clit again.  “C’mon now, baby. Let go for me,” he hums and kisses your back softly and the band inside you snaps. You can't remember ever having had an orgasm like the one he had just given you and as soon as it was over you craved more.  “God, you're tight, sugar,” Rafe groans, his hips stutter as he tried to keep fucking you through it but the grip your pussy has on him is too much, and he lets go too. His head falling to your back while he groans and cums. 

“Solid 8.5,” you say just to tease him once he's lying next to you, the sheets pulled over his sweaty body.  “Guess I'll have to try even better next time,” he smirks.  “I'm not gonna be your sex slave, just to be clear on that.”  “Shit, and I've already let the help prepare the dungeon,” he fakes a gasp.  “Stop making me like you,” you laugh, and he looks at you, almost dreamy.  “What?” you ask slowly, furrowing your brows.  “Nothing, just- No, nothing at all,” he shakes his head.  “Okay, weirdo,” you roll your eyes and go to stand up. searching for your slip and putting it back on.  “What are you doing?” Rafe asks, watching you meticulously; how you pull your skirt up and tug your blouse into it after buttoning it up.  You run your hand through your hair while pulling your heels back on. “I'm leaving. Have to catch my flight tomorrow morning and my shit is still at the hotel,” you remind him.  “So, that's it? One night to remember?”  “Yeah, wasn't that the plan all along?” you laugh, and he mirrors it slightly uncomfortable.  “Yeah. Definitely.”  “Besides, I'm responsible for this deal, and I'm not gonna let it go to shits, not even for a good fuck.”  “A real businesswoman,” he mumbles.  “Maybe you find your way to New York one day,” you smile at him before stepping out of the door, just to lean back and look back at him. “Oh, and you’re still not my type.” 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @drwstarkeyy

part 2

#rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #obx fanfiction #~fanfiction #smut #my writing

[reminiscingtonight]

Reunions

Alessia Russo & Reader (Leah Williamson x Bronze!Reader)

Word Count: 713

A/N: Started this after the transfer news. Finished after Alessia's semi-final goal. Seems fitting to add it the Setbacks Universe

[Setbacks Masterlist] // [WOSO Masterlist]

The last couple months have been a rollercoaster. 

After working through your injury, you’ve bounced back with a vengeance, all the weeks you’ve spent cooped up translating to endless bounds of energy on the field. 

There’s no other way to describe the second half of the season than constant ups and downs. 

Arsenal beat out Chelsea for the Conti-Cup title. 

Your girlfriend tore her ACL.

You sold out the Emirates for the Champions League semi-final.

You lost the Champions League semi-final. 

And then you got called up for the freaking World Cup.

It’s definitely a bittersweet feeling, being called up to live your dreams while your girlfriend is stuck watching on the sidelines. But Leah’s quick to reassure you of how much you deserve it. Of how proud she is of you.

You thought making the world cup squad would be the highlight of your year. The peak of this year of ups and downs.

You never accounted for one Alessia Russo.

July 4th might be America day to those living across the pond, but July 4th will always be “Alessia Russo joins Arsenal” day to you.

“So.”

Blue eyes look up at you, narrowing with good reason. There’s a devious look in your eyes as you plop down next to one of your best friends. 

“Missed us that much, huh?” 

Alessia’s dressed in Arsenal gear, having just finished her photoshoot and making her rounds around the training ground. You lit up the second the blonde opened the door to the physio room, you having had accompanied Leah to her appointment, and you haven’t left Alessia’s side since.

Alessia rolls her eyes. “Lotte maybe. You? Not so much.”

“Ouch, you wound me,” you gasp, hands clutching at your heart.

Of course you’ve been aware of all of the rumors floating around. Alessia Russo to Arsenal everyone said, the media, the fans. Everyone but the one person who actually mattered. 

Despite all of your probing, Alessia refused to tell you where she was actually headed to after her contract with Manchester United ended. 

You were just starting to entertain the idea of her following her ex-Manchester teammate to Barcelona when Alessia finally spilled the beans. Not even Leah’s injured form could stop you from lifting and twirling your girlfriend around when you got the news. Leah had simply laughed at you, telling you to put her down.

And now you’re here. Sitting in the oh-so familiar locker room, with someone who’s also oh-so familiar, just not familiar with this side of the field.

“I can’t believe it. The Tar Heel gals, back together again.”

Alessia snorts at the phrase, remembering when she shouted that upon your late addition to the Lionesses senior squad.

“Only this time we get to do it at Arsenal.”

“The better reds,” you nod in return, laughing when Alessia shoves you back in retaliation. Alessia might be a gunner now, but you know she’ll always have a soft spot for her childhood team.

“Babe, leave her alone.”

The sight of Leah making her way into the locker room has your face breaking out into a smile, but something akin to a whine is quick to break out of your mouth at her warning. “But Leah! Lessi is--”

The sight of a perfectly crafted eyebrow raising at you has you shutting your mouth with a click.

“Lessi is what?” Alessia eggs you on, laughing at the face you pull at her. 

Leah ignores the disgruntled look you shoot her way, sighing at your dramatics. “The two of you are children.”

“Well this child gets to go home with you,” you point to yourself. “That child is banned from… ” you trail off, trying to think hard of something to stay. 

It’s Alessia’s muffled laughter that has you blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Alessia’s banned from ever meeting Winnie!”

The silence that follows is very telling.

Leah avoids eye contact while Alessia looks all too gleeful.

You gasp, pointing an accusing finger at Alessia. “You’ve already met Win?! They wouldn’t let me meet her until I my second month here!”

.

The three of you run into Win on your way out.

Leah has to try not to laugh when Win nearly knocks you over to get to Alessia.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

[writingoddess1125]

hiya!

Could you do Prince Nuada from Hellboy 2 and reader?

This one has taken me a while- Also thank you for reigniting the LOVE I had for Prince Nuada! Ugh! So sexy!!

I do hope this is to your liking since it did take some warping.

1. I gotta keep Nuada and Nuala alive so the ending didn't happen

2. Introduce elements from the comics aka Hellboy had adopted siblings.

OKAY ENJOY! I TRIED HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Half Breed

Prince Nuada x FemReader

Support me on Ko-Fi I'm poor!

After the fortunately failed suicide attempt from Nuala which had horribly injured both twins- Nuafa had been captured and the two rushed back to the Bureau for emergency treatment, Which fortunately allowed the Elves to survive the whole ordeal.

Nuada had been placed in custody of B.P.R.D first as a high level prisoner for many months after his attempt to wipe out humanity.

After being in solitary confinement for far too long a deal was struck with him to work for the organization due to his knowlege of the world and to get out of solitary help all that had been damaged.

He had agreed- begrudgingly and because Nuala insisted.. it had been nearly a year of this all- When something interesting took place.

Nuala and Abe walked down the corridors together, talking about recent books they had shared before Abe paused.

"Oh?-" He looked around calmly before seeing the warning lights come down shining blue instead of the normal red for emergencies.

"Is there an emergancy?" Nuala questioned, a bit nervous of what it could mean, But Abe gently touched her shoulder with his gloved hand.

"No no- Just a old friend. Everytime she visits her and Red play a.. Game of sorts like tag" Abe explained, Nuala smiling at hearing this. Nuada who had just returned from a mission turned the corner seeing his sister and the fish man, frowning but looking to the lights.

"Whats this?" He asked shortly, Abe repeating his answer from before.

"Warning lights for a Game?" He questioned, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Well they are only allowed to have this game once a year and for 5 minutes- mainly due to the property damage that always happens" Abe said truthfully as the elven twins looked surprised by this. A childish game causing property damage?

As if right on cue there was a loud crash the trio turning to see Hellboy running full force in their direction like a train.

"MOVE MOVE!" He yelled loudly, as he ran past them. This was the fastest any of them had seen him run even in a life or death situation, right as he was about to turn the corner a black boot came barrowing down on the side of his cheek, knocking him to the ground hard before the smaller figure ran down the hall Red had just gone through.

"You're it!" She yelled and the trio watched- There running past was a women. Dressed in all black leather tactical gear with her silver hair in a long braid, the ends a sunset gold- (Y/S/C) skin with unique etchings found in only elvish culture paired with amber eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure see what she was-

"Timer Abe!" She yelled, Abe looking to the small watch he carried.

"4 minutes and 26 seconds left- Also happy youve returned safely" He called out to (Y/N) who dashed down the hallway.

Nuada eyes widened as he couldnt help but follower her with his gaze, something about her drew him in. The trio sticking to the walls as they tried to follow the action- it was like a massive battle taking black between a giant and a tiny titan. While Red was slamming into walls cracking cement with his weight and arm- (Y/N) was doing flips and hung to the light fixtures above to keep an advantage.

"Happy to see you too!!!"

He could only describe himself as being mesmerized by her.. Every turn, giggle and jump just seemed to bewitch him and it terrified him.. It wasn't till a loud alarm snapped him his gaze making him jump a bit in surprise- the game was over it seemed and Hellboy returned with his sister, the demon clearly glum from losing.

Nuala eyes widened as she watched (Y/N) jump around Hellboy with a happy smile at winning the game. Figuring what she was but disbelieving of course even after this entire endeavor. A leath-fola. A Half-Blood Actually existed in this world? The embodiment of a union between a human and one of his own kind-

"I win Red! So that's 28 for me and 25 for you. Best luck next you!" She said cheerfully as Hellboy grumbled and pushed her head away with his small hand.

"Yada Yada short stack-"

She noticed the looks of the two meeting their gazes and Nuada immediately felt his heart beat pick up- Confused by the sensation he glanced to Nuala assuming it must be her however she seemed calm and relaxed.

"New Agents?" She questioned looking at the twins, Abe nodding with a 'smile'

"Prince Nuada of the Bethmora clan.. This here is my sister Princess Nuala" He introduced both formally, watching how her smile seemed to radiate as he spoke. It made him feel like he had had stepped into the sun for the first time in years..

"It's lovely to meet you both! It's so lovely to have new faces here in the facility" She said cheerfully, reaching out in a friendly matter and patting both twins on the shoulders.

It felt like Nuada had been shocked by the most pleasant bit of electricity that left him flustered and confused. His sister finally glancing at him as she felt his emotions and gaze a smile, a twinkle of what could only be described as mischief in her golden gaze.

"Yes.. new faces... now if you'll excuse me" Nuada said quickly before dismissing himself- trying to control the panic that was eating him on the inside and the warmth that bloomed in his body. He practically ran back to the space he was forced to call a room and lock himself inside. Nuada stood in his room pacing back and forth. His mind racing and heart uneasy- unknowingly for hours as he tried to calm himself from the sudden feelings that seemed to slam into him.

A knock on the door bringing him from his thoughts as he quickly opened the door, surprised to see his sister standing there in a evening gown.

"Sister, what are you doing up? You should be resting.." He said softly, allowing Nuala into the room.

"I can not rest with you so worked up brother" Nuala said softly. The prince sighing as he realized he had kept her up and took a seat on the corner of the bed, Nuala sitting next to him as well.

"Well- It sounds like she is your fated partner" She pointed out and Nuada immediately felt anger in his blood.

"You're thinking about the leath-fola (Y/N)? Right?" Nuala said softly as she rubbed her brothers shoulder to comfort him. He frowned at being so obvious and also for the form of comfort.

"Yes- She... makes me uneasy" He says, lying a bit to avoid the words he wanted to use. Nuala smiling at this.

"Do not speak such foolish things-" He hissed, Nuala flinching at his harsh words.

"I am not fated to a mortal of all beings" He started but Nuala held up a hand.

"She is not a mortal however brother.. You saw" Nuada was ready to argue but couldnt- his face twisting up.. The damn half-breed was not his fated partner NOR was it going to be the siblings of the demon.

He would prove it...

For the first few weeks that (Y/N) was there, Nuada had been rude and snide. Hissing insults about her mixed blood, shoving past her or even straight up ignoring her. He expected she would take the abuse since she didnt say anything about it but he had been wrong- so terribly wrong.

It took only one time calling her "Dirty" in terms of her blood to get the hardest punch he had ever taken to the nose- It made his eyes water and fall to a knee infront of her..

She grabbed his silver hair and pulled him close so they were eye to eye-

"Listen here- Keep insulting me like this and I'm going to tear your ass a new one. I don't give a Flying fuck if your a price or whatever- I will fuck you up" She hissed at him-

Nuada felt more confused then he ever had before- The pain seemingly going with the fluttering warmth he felt in his face and blatant arousal that was Damm near impossible to miss- (Y/N) seeing his widened eyes and the flush of color on his pale face, like he was frozen and her own golden eyes traveled down at noticing some new movement.

"O-Oh-" Was all she said- Clearly just as surprised as Nuada was at this point. Her fingers carefully releasing his silver hair as warmth went to her own cheeks.

Nuada wanted a blade to the heart at this point...

#x reader #hellboy #Hellboy Golden Army #prince nuada #Princess Nuala #hellboy 2 the golden army #hellboy 2004 #abe sapien #halloween #happy halloweeeeeeen #dark elf #elf x reader #half elf #teratophile #monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster fudger

[oldmemoria]

hate the ultimate guide. heres a few reasons why.

reused art: I understand how hard it is to make art, especially at that calliber of detail. I'm an artist, I get it. but the charm of the original ultimate guide was that we had these hand painted, unique pieces of art of these characters, it showed a little personality too.

How stale and lifeless the art is: This is a complaint that I've had with the current western artist for years, the art is just... boring. the colors are pretty, yeah, like wow hyperrealistic cats. cool. but what else? can we see their personalities? what's the book gonna be like? the old covers had that charm, but not these ones. at all. (also is that even... i could not tell that was runningnose and littlecloud. i mean. runningnose has water in his snout, thats not what cat snot looks like but go off. he just looks a little soggy ig, not in a perpetual state of sick.)

Lack of Personality: this is a different complaint I promise. I dont like how the art seems to take away the personality of every character so theyre staring stoicly at the camera. some of these characters arent all that stoic. I never liked the firestar art in the last hope because I deadass thought it was mapleshade until someone told me it was firestar. firestar isnt this scary, stalky cat in the shadows. not to normal people at least. if i can mistake your main character as one of the villains in your cover art that isnt fucking good. I don't want to see these cats staring bug eyed at the camera, I want to be able to tell what they're like JUST from a glance at the art. Who is that- harestar?? why doesnt he look nervous?? he looks almost noble here, which is the opposite of who he's supposed to be, he's a wuss and a loser and i love him for it. like girl that is NOT mudclaw thats some random cat i saw at the shelter once, WHERES HIS ANGER? WHERES HIS FUCKING RAGE??? RISE RISE RISE RISE RISE RI

the Characters are hard to recognize, even with the title cards: Who are these cats. who. who the fuck are they. I can recognize a few cats, sure, but thats if I can pick out a defining trait. Squirrelflights tail, Scourges Collar, Ravenpaw's white chest, those are things that are explicitly told to us that these characters have, but everyone else??? WHO??? Like that was supposed to be leafstar?? HUH?? Wait that's supposed to be Oakheart? I cant even tell if hes red, its so YELLOW OUT I CANT FUCKING TEL WHO HE IS. Sagewhisker is described with yellow eyes, yet she has blue ones in the ultimate guide (i dont usually get pissy about eye color but not only are these cats supposed to be distinct from each other but i really like sagewhisker and i would die for her, yes i will gatekeep her from the artist fucking fight me), Bluestar is barely recognizable, i didnt know who half of these cats were before i read their nameplate. thats not a good thing.

Red mapleshade. Why she red. WHY SHE RED.

Leafpool. I didn't even know that was you at first but man they did you dirty.

sol. dude that is not sol no matter how much you stretch it- why is he a tabby?? hes supposed to be a tortie, why does he look like lionblaze?? and even then he doesnt look that lionlike, even though hollyleaf literally thought he was when she first saw him like what?? HUH???

mothwing. why she anger. also why she not fluffy

squirrelflight. i always hated her SE art but seeing the whole thing makes me angrier. like she isnt not accurate to canon or anything i just... hate it. i hate it withe very fibre of my being. ALSO WHERE IS HER PERSONALITY I WANT TO SEE HER BEING ENERGETIC NOT STARING 😐 AT THE CAMERA FUCKING HELL-

yeah, so im not gonna buy this book. i dont even want to know how they wrorte any of the female characters to make them somehow evil or how they somehow make a completely irridemable male character a sweet uwu baby. and everyone has talked about the ableism to death so im not going to beat this clearly still living horse, im just gonna let you find it yourself.

#warrior cats #warrior cats the ultimate guide #warrior cats ultimate edition #warriors #fuck this book

[insert-neologism]

Shauna's drunk. When she's drunk, she starts thinking (more than usual, that is).

Also, something's wrong.

Jackie dances in the middle of the floor. With Jeff.

Shauna is watching her from outside the mass of writhing bodies and feels horrible.

It's not that they're dancing now, as if nothing's ever happened, as if Jackie didn't cry just last night in Shauna's bed (only in the dark, silently, when she thought Shauna was sleeping. She wasn't.)

It's not even that Jackie is back together with him, even though he doesn't make her happy and Jackie knows that just as well as Shauna. Even though she keeps saying the opposite.

It's that Shauna cant stop thinking about it; that even if she forces her eyes to wander they still come back to Jackie every time, fixate on her like there's nothing else in the room.

It's that Shauna can't look anywhere but her, and that the music fades ever so slightly when she does (only for her. only ever for her.)

It's that she's dancing so closely with Jeff that they might as well be one, a single body. And it feels... wrong, just deeply, plainly wrong. It shouldn't be him.

It's that Shauna can't be happy for Jackie. It's that she's the worst best friend to ever exist.

She downs the rest of her drink, barely even tasting it.

Jackie, unaware, turns her face towards the ceiling, eyes closed. The light illuminating it turns blue.

It gives Jackie's skin an almost ethereal glow; she doesn't look real anymore, like her soul has left and all that's moving is just her body, a lifeless shell. She stills, for a second or forever - Shauna can't tell. But she's not moving anymore, and her skin turns lighter, white-ish.

Snow starts to fall. It's terribly cold.

Shauna flinches; the red solo cup crumbles beneath her grip. She feels bile rise in her throat.

It's not snow, of course it isnt; it's summer and they're inside. The spotlights are just throwing white flecks everywhere, like the ones behind Shauna's eyes when she closes them and tries to think of nothing (it never works). Jackie's moving again, blue again, with Jeff's hands all over her again.

It hits her, as sudden as a punch to the face: an overwhelming pain, something that can't be described as just 'sadness'. Something that runs so deep that not even death could expel her from feeling it.

It's still cold, impossibly so; goosebumps are covering her entire body and suddenly it's too light and too loud and too cramped and just too much and if she doesn't get out of here right the fuck now she's going to die.

The warm summer air outside and light breeze do make her feel better. There are less people out here, too; or at least Shauna can't see them. Doesn't care for them.

Everything is blurry. She's lost her cup somewhere on the way, but it doesn't matter; it was empty anyways.

Somebody - Nat? there's a shimmer of yellow, but to be honest Shauna would just like to close her eyes and lay on the ground until the earth consumes her, (out of protest against anyone who hinders her she refuses to open her eyes more than absolutely necessary) so she can't be sure - is tapping her shoulder and handing her a piece of bread, saying "for fuck sake, how much did you drink? Did you eat nothing all day or are that much of a lightweight?"

She did eat. Enough, even though she gave Jackie half of it. Well, 'gave' is relative; but she doesn't like to say she forced Jackie to eat. Doesn't think she could do that, force Jackie to do anything. Doesn't think anyone could. Not really.

But she really isn't feeling that great, and food does help more often than not, so she accepts it and watches the shimmer of blonde float away again.

She bites into the bread. It feels hard and cold and tastes salty and not at all like bread.

Shauna turns and throws up.

Somebody gathers her hair and holds it up, holds her up until she's slowly calming down. "Are you alright?" a voice asks.

Shauna looks up. It's Van, Van with her fiery red hair and a scar on her face. She blurs.

"Something's wrong." Shauna says.

"Yeah, obviously. You've had way too much, what the fuck is going on?"

"No, it's..." Shauna doesn't know how to explain. Can't explain, because how do you explain something you don't even know yourself? How do you say something you can't even think, that you don't know is true?

So she doesn't. Instead, she holds her hand out and traces Van's scar, red against white.

Blood on snow.

The skin is smooth.

Her fingertips are crawling. She feels like she did seconds (hours? How long did she lay here?) ago, when she was inside; too light and too loud and cramped. Only this time, it's not because of other people; this time, it's just herself, her own body who she wants (needs) to get rid of. There are feelings inside of her, feelings she can't contain nor express and they're building up (They've always been building up. They've always come close to being more than what she can handle. But today it feels inevitable.); there's an ocean inside of her, and it's gathering up into a wave so big it's impossible to perceive and it's gonna crash, it's gonna crash and crush her and she's gonna go down, go under and drown. She's tearing at the seams.

Van's looking at her, she realises, eyes wide and filled with an badly hidden emotion that Shauna knows intimately, can match to what's inside her, infesting her like a parasite. That sometimes overcomes her, makes her unable to move and makes her always keep Jackie halfway out (because she doesn't know what, but something's wrong with her. And if Jackie ever finds out it's going to be the end of them - the end of the only good thing Shauna has.

And she knows it's futile, knows she'll destroy it either way; by keeping Jackie out and by letting her in, but this way she can at least pretend.

She can pretend until it's too late, and then keep pretending; because deep down she knows Jackie won't ever leave her. She's imprinted in her skin, behind her eyelids, her brain; she's haunting her already, so why should that be different when she's dead?)

What she doesn't know is why Van is feeling that, why Van is even familiar with it, the bone-deep fear that infests everything she knows like a toxic gas - unable to keep out and killing everything around her.

But she's still looking at her, with the same wide eyes as minutes (seconds?) ago, her mouth slightly open.

She doesn't move, doesn't even blink - just like Shauna, who then becomes aware that she has a body too, that she is more than just a thousand thoughts and prayers and emotions, insecurity and rage, mixed up and dumped into a pocket of air. She becomes aware that her throat hurts, that there's a twig digging into her thigh, that her hand is still on Van's face, unmoving.

"Van?" a voice calls. Van flinches, and so does Shauna. She drops her hand (it lands on her lap, limp and unfeeling), and Van blinks rapidly as if to make up for all the time she didn't, and time starts moving again.

Being normal again.

Except that nothing is.

A hand lands on Van's shoulder, and this time only Shauna flinches. "Damn." Tai says. "Is she alright?"

YES, Shauna wants to say. She is alright. She is the alrightest she's ever been, so could everyone please just leave her alone? Thank you.

"I don't think so." Van says.

She's still looking at her, this time tinged with something like an understanding. A connection. Shauna doesn't want it.

"Do we have to get Jackie? I know where she is, I just saw her-"

"No."

Tai sighs. "Van, please, I'm not dealing with this tonight. First... "

She wishes she could throw up again, get out every thought and memory and watch it disappear into the ground. If it won't claim her body then maybe it'll be enough for it to claim everything that makes her her. Maybe she'll be the ground afterwards; after all, swallowing her thoughts is all she ever does. ("Just talk to someone. It'll be good for you.", her mother had said. Shauna had taken up journaling instead.)

Somebody's pulling her up to her feet.

"Shauna? Shauna, hey..."

Shauna sways, held up only by Van's arm around her waist. Her eyes land on an exceptionally blurry Tai, who's watching her with a concerned look (which is her own fault, Shauna thinks. If they just would've let the earth consume her in peace she'd be long gone already and everything would be alright.)

"Something's obviously going on." Van says. "I'm not leaving her alone, not in that state."

Both Tais glare at Van.

Shauna blinks.

Both of them are still there.

One of the Tais, the one with the longer hair, says something.

Her teeth are dark.

Maybe her bread fell into the dirt too, Shauna thinks miserably.

They're still arguing, still about her. She doesn't want them to, doesn't want them to care for her. Caring for her is not going to end well; she's a knife, a violent paper doll, hurting and destroying and incredibly fragile all the while. Waiting to be discarded.

She turns into Van and starts to cry.

"That's it." Tai (Shauna can't see which one) says. "I'm getting Lottie. Her party, her responsibility. "

Van just sighs and rubs Shauna's back.

Some time later (Shauna is confident that this is a correct estimate about how much time has passed) she's sitting on the steps to the balcony; at least, that's what she thinks based on the noises around her and the smell of weed in the air. The party is obstructed by the impossibly huge plants on the balcony, and it's too dark to make anything out except for a stream of light in front of her. She's grateful for it.

She still feels Van's touch on her back, a ghost handprint.

They're talking about her, Shauna knows, and about her. They (Van and Lottie; Tai pretended to leave but Shauna can feel her eyes from somewhere behind her) are standing a bit apart and the only thing she can hear are whispers. It's not hard though, to know what they're talking about; it's always the same thing. As if they’re entwined, as if Shauna doesn't even exist without her.

Don't get Jackie. At least theyre honoring that wish; they might pass her around like she's a particularly fucked up plant that everybody wants to get rid of as soon as possible, but god forbid anyone would want to pry Jackie from her second body.

Let's get Lottie instead.

She didn't want them to, and told them as much (which didn't do anything at all). Almost like she isn’t her own human with her own agenda; somehow, everybody keeps insisting that she can't possibly make her own decisions, that she doesn't know what she wants. Misplaced. A puppy hanging around outside, waiting to be let back in.

There's something to be said (thought) here, something that she can't grasp right now; it feels just out of reach, dancing behind closed glass doors, but it's interrupted by Lottie's shadow appearing right in front of her, cutting into the yellow light.

She isn't wearing a hat or anything, Shauna notes; which is weird considering it sort of looks that way on her shadow - as if there's a very weird tree growing from her head. Briefly, Shauna wonders if she's high - if she's simply inhaled enough smoke on her time on the balcony to make up for actually smoking.

Lottie, who's holding a joint, doesn't make that theory seem too absurd.

The smoke curls up and obstructs part of her face. Together with the dim light Lottie looks like she's hidden behind a veil.

It's cold again.

The smoke lifts, and Shauna can see Lottie's frown. She doesn't want to, doesn't want anything to make Lottie frown. Especially not to be the reason.

" -you alright? Van said you said something's wrong."

Shauna can't talk, can't get any words out. She feels too weak, suddenly, like she could just collapse right here in the steps and sleep forever. She wants to.

"Did you eat enough?" Shauna nods, hastily. She won't eat anything else tonight. Can't.

Lottie grouches. Her shadow convulses, almost following the movements of Lottie's body and forms into something else, something smaller. The branches have grown. They're almost at the border of the lightstream now. It feels like they're reaching for it. Shauna's hand finds hold on her arm, nails biting into skin.

"You know, " Lottie says, gently.

Shauna's eyes are ripped away from the... thing cowering in the light, to Lottie's eyes.

The smoke-veil has lifted completely now. There's a softness in Lottie's eyes Shauna almost never sees; and if, it's never directed at her. Only ever at Laura Lee. Nat, sometimes.

It feels like an ocean. Calm and harmless; but at the bottom, Shauna knows she'll be crushed. And she's sinking, faster than she ever did before. Her heart is a hand-grenade, beating with anger and fear, but there's something else there, too.

"There- Sometimes you don't know what's going on, and that's ok. Sometimes you're feeling things that don't make sense, or that you don't want to feel, or that make you want to rip your heart out every time you do feel them. Because you have to. And because they're so great you can't just feel them alone, because one person's just not enough but you cant talk to anyone about it because they'd kill you. Not literally. But metaphorically.

But I- I guess I just want you to know that you can talk to me about it, alright? About everything. About her. "

Lottie looks away briefly, her eyes releasing Shauna.

The joint dangles between her pointer- and ring finger, burning into her clothes or maybe not. It doesn't catch on fire.

If it would, Shauna asks herself, would her shadow be exterminated too, destroyed by the light? Or would it simply be freed?

"Shauna?" Lottie starts moving towards her.

"No." Shauna says. "Stay in the light. Please."

As long as Lottie stays right there, in the light of the half-open balcony door, the shadow will stay there too. Has to. If she lets it into the dark Shauna can't keep track of it anymore, will lose sight of it, and it's gonna envelop her, burrow itself inside her and never let her go.

"Do you still think you're a killer?" Lottie's shadow asks. "You could be. If you tried."

"I know. " Shauna's shadow says.

Lottie stills and looks at her. There's surprise in her eyes now, along with that overwhelming softness.

Shauna realises that she's sitting behind one of the plants, in the dark; there's no light. So there's no shadow. She lets her head drop to her knees.

Lottie sighs. There's a rush of air and rustling of clothes and Lottie's hand, gentle on her head.

" Oh, honey."

Shauna wishes that she could drown in her honey voice, could let herself fall and sink and go under and never come back up again. Live as her reflection. It'd be alright then; she's nothing more than fragments of a person who might've existed once anyways.

She doesn't dare look up now, now that she knows Lottie's shadow isnt contained anymore.

She doesn't dare feel anything else than her hand.

"Lottie? Uh, I think they need you inside. There's a. Well, I wouldn't call it a fight, but Tai and J-. Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting?"

Lottie breathes out.

"You could never, Laura Lee."

She stands up.

"Could you stay with Shauna till I'm back? She's not feeling well."

"Of course." Laura Lee says.

Shauna can only imagine the look they share, but she's seen them a thousand times so she can imagine it pretty well. It hollows her out, pulls something inside of her out piece by piece until there's nothing left. Until she's but a shell. In some way, she supposes, she's never been more.

Laura Lee sits down beside her. Shauna can feel her eyes; not concerned like Van's or inquiring like Tai's or whatever the hell Lottie was, but simply looking.

Waiting.

She always does this; sitting beside someone and simply being there until they start talking. Even if it takes forever. It always works.

She's the best of all of them. Of the team, of the world; she tries and tries and never gives up. She's never once thought about being a bad person; she's never once thought about anyone being a bad person, because she believes in the irrevocable good in anyone.

Shauna doesn't realise she's crying until she feels Laura Lee in front of her, gently trying to pry her hands from her head. They fail.

"Shauna. Shauna, please look at me."

Shauna shakes Laura Lee off.

"I can't." she says, muffled. "If I do, something bad's gonna happen."

"To me?"

Shauna doesn't know. Van's scars weren't ever there. Of the two Tai's that went to get Lottie only one came back, and none remained. And Jackie's still dancing.

"Something weird is happening, Laura Lee. Something bad, and I don't know what to do against it, how to stop it, what to-"

Laura Lee stops her struggles against Shauna's arms.

"You know. Some things you can't stop. Some things are just bound to happen, and you can't avoid them. They're going to find you anyway. But, once you're through, you're a stronger person."

"I don't think this is supposed to happen." Shauna says. And, then: "Wait, you mean like a test? from God?"

Shauna can't hear it, can't feel it, and yet she knows the expression Laura Lee makes. When she starts talking again, though, her voice is just as gentle as before.

"I don't like calling it a test."

"Why?"

"Because it implies that you can fail."

Shauna sniffles.

"What, you don't think you can fail?"

You don't think I'm set up for failing, for being the worst possible person with every step I take.

"I don't think he'd do that. He didn't create us to fail, he created us to be good."

"Is that in the bible?"

"I'm not bound to the bible, Shauna." She hears the smile in Laura Lee's voice. "Look at me? Please?"

It was stupid to believe she'd get through with this. Laura Lee listens, and talks, and keeps company until it works. And it always works.

Slowly, Shauna looks up.

The night sky is much darker here, with Lottie's house being out of town and less polluted by the street lights.

Shauna knows, though right now it's being largely obscured by Laura Lee's face, painted blue by the moonlight. There's a light breeze, and warmth, and the giggles of random boys who probably went outside with a stolen joint or something.

It doesn't matter, though. All that matters is Laura Lee.

There's so much love, so much certainty in her eyes that Shauna feels herself simultaneously recoil and wanting to come closer; to submerge herself in the belief Laura Lee holds, that spans her world, endless like the sky.

How one person can have so much faith, Shauna doesn't know. Can't imagine. Wishes she could.

If Lottie is the dark, all shadow and hidden half-smiles, then Laura Lee is light incarnate.

"It's going to be alright." she says, and for once, Shauna believes her (because it's said with such conviction, such immense knowledge that Shauna can't not believe her.)

The sky starts to burn. There are snakes of fire, a place of smoke, rising around Laura Lee's head like a halo.

A second later, there's a boom. It shatters the earth and Shauna's heart, vibrating deep in her bones.

"What the fuck?" Lottie shouts from somewhere behind Laura Lee, who's still towering over Shauna, hair still reflecting the light.

"Who the fuck brought fireworks? I swear to God and everything that's holy, I will get your asses, and you will never show your godforsaken face here again."

Fireworks. Of course.

Shauna exhales, shakily.

It rains blue and purple fire around Laura Lee's head.

In the moonlight, it looks like snow.

Is she right back where she started?

"Did you see? Nothing happened." Laura Lee smiles, tentatively. "I'm alright."

#LONG POST #Im serious guys #~3.5 k words #mine art tag #shauna shipman #yellowjackets #yj #lot of implied stuff here. #have i mention ed that i hate tumblr paragraph breaks why is there so much soaceee argh #uhhh #mitos incredible life #flower face posting #like. a bit #first time im posting writing omg #anyways. u can ask me quadtions abt everything rlly (dunno of i know the answer thiugh) if it sounds weird it's probably a lyric. #well Idk what else to write here. but I wont tag the whole team bc thazs so many ppl guys #hope u like it!! ig #if u hate it dont tell me alr #yellowjackets fic

[adobe-outdesign]

Might i request some elephant 'mons reviews ? So Donphan/Panphy and Copperajah/Cufant, let's keep great tusk for whenever there's official art.

(The official artwork has actually come out while I was waiting to backlog through to this ask, so I think I'm going to look the Phanpy line and the Donphan paradoxes into one big review as that makes the most sense. If anyone still wants to hear my thoughts on the Cufant line, just let me know.)

Phanpy is pretty cute, just a nice blue elephant with a few bright red accents. At this stage, it doesn't have much of a concept, but the colors alone make it stand out a little despite it otherwise being pretty unremarkable.

I have to say though, there is a bit of a weird disconnect between it and Donphan. There really aren't any visual elements that the two have in common (I guess the red patch on the trunk looks a bit like Donphan's treads?), the faces and general moods are different, and the colors couldn't be further apart (Phanpy's being oversaturated and Donphan's having almost no color). It really feels like they took two unrelated elephant designs and then slapped 'em together into one line.

I do feel like this could be an easy fix. Phanpy could easily have the same "chains" on the legs (make them look like kneepads or something that connects to the tire theme), give it like two more patches on the face to mimic Donphan's trunk, and maybe make it a slightly lighter blue while making Donphan more of a blue with maybe a spot or two of red accents. It's not that either are bad as-is; they just aren't as coherent of a line as they could potentially be.

Line aside, Donphan is pretty neat. An elephant is one thing, but making an elephant that rolls up into a tire is another thing entirely. The execution of this concept is also nice; the tire patterning feels natural, you can tell how it rolls up just by looking at it, and the various animations of it rolling are pretty slick as well.

My only nitpick is that the ears stick straight out and that throws the tire shape a little—I wouldn't have minded them being floppier like Phanpy's. I also wouldn't minded a bit more color in the design, though it might just be Phanpy's oversaturation speaking there.

Overall, the line feels a bit disconnected, but both Pokemon are nicely designed and Donphan in particular has a great concept and a great execution.

Great Tusk is actually pretty intimidating; it's hard to describe, but it's pretty eerie turning a corner in SV and being suddenly greeted by the titan version of this thing slowly moving around a corner. This effect is furthered by exaggerating some of Donphan's elements, such as the much larger tusks, squinting yellow eyes, and wicked-looking mouth.

Visually, I kind of prefer it over original Donphan a bit, even though original Donphan is perfectly good as well. The colors on this one are particularly nice—purple and pink give it just the right amount of "pop" while not making it look overly garish (and ironically, the pink kind of ties into Phanpy's red accents despite Great Tusk not evolving from Phanpy).

I guess you could argue that the back spikes, color, and tusks kind of detract from the "tire" concept, but then again, I'd argue that's the point—Iron Treads is the one that really leans into the tire thing, while Great Tusk is more leaning into a woolly mammoth side, what with the added fur. It's a nice way to justify both designs, as each design leans into a different "half" of Donphan.

I don't like Iron Treads as much as either Donphan or Great Tusk, but I can give it points right off the bat for at least being Different than Donphan instead of just a robotic version of the same design. I know that's not much, but it's more than the other future Paradoxes try to do at least. The bright red paneling on the treads in particular really gives it a unique element, and helps draw attention to the smoother, more conveyor-belt like shape.

However, something about it is just a little off. I think it's the head, which looks laughably tiny compared to the body; not helped by it lacking a neck. Donphan doesn't have much of a head either, but it at least gives the impression of it having a tiny bit of a head and a much larger face than this thing's LEDs would suggest. I also find the "ears" a bit odd (why are they on the middle of the torso?) and the tusks feel pretty pointless on this version, to the point where I'd almost say they should've just been dropped. Right idea, but it could've been a little stronger.

(Also, side note: Shoutout to Iron Treads here for being one of the only future Paradox 'mons whose typing actually makes sense.)

As a whole, Phanpy is cute and simple, albiet without much of a through line to its evo. Donphan has a solid concept and design, Great Tusk does what Donphan is doing but really makes it stand out, and Iron Treads at least stands out from the other future Paradoxes, even if it could've been stronger. Overall, some good elephants.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #iron treads #great tusk #donphan #panphy #pokemon reviews

[slashingdisneypasta]

Even though we've been discussing the Killer Patrol AU in DM's, I thought it'd be fitting to send this one in ask. To give you a break (you can answer this if/when you want to ^^) and to further curse your followers who may see it XD

I have been focusing a lot on our OC's in this AU, so I gotta dedicate this ask to the boys themselves- and other canon WFRR characters.

Since I shared Shiny's appearance, I want to share how I see the boys looking in this AU too.

Wheezy is the easiest. You already described him best XD very, very dark blue fur, very deep bags under his eyes, dirty and torn and stained dress shirt with his vest and cap, etc. Grimy nails, rough smoker hands, somehow even redder sclera. Just... WFRR!Wheezy looks like a hypochondriac compared to Slasher!Wheezy 😅

Smartass is second since I did describe him a tad. The acid scarring is most prominent on his upper half (face, the top of his head, throat, chest, etc). As a weasel, the fur has completely burned off if these areas- you can only see a hint of what he looked like before with the fur on his legs. As a human, he'd have hair falling out and it'd almost look like a receding hairline, but it's not even? If that makes sense?? I'm imagining him wearing a darker pink, maybe magenta, and no diamond in his tie. But you can tell his tastes are still expensive, and he takes extra care in getting the blood out of his clothes (because he can't in his physical looks anymore). I'm thinking maybe his nose got melted off?? Possibly his lips and eye lids too (I'm not sure what acid scars would look like- and I'm a bit scared to Google it. Especially with acid intense enough to melt bodies 😅). He still has his hat as well as his other accessories to hide his face as best as he can when out and about.

I already mentioned before that Stupid is a bit deformed. Crooked, uneven teeth with his giant bucktooth, huge forehead that looks a little indented in some spots. Sunken-in eyes. It just looks horrific to imagine what could have happened to him. He wears a striped, long sleeved shirt with a pair of overalls now, and there's some patches and stitches in his clothes from getting them torn and sewn back up again. If you look at his palms and forearms, you can see some acid scarring- though not as intense as Smartass' (Stu had grabbed him as soon as he saw he was in pain). He does still have his propeller hat, though he's especially sensitive about it being removed. He doesn't like leaving his head exposed. Though you can just wrap a blanket around his head, and he'll feel much better.

Greasy... Honestly, he's pretty difficult since I don't imagine him looking too too different. Like you said, he's the most normal looking of them all. I'm thinking maybe he doesn't use as much hair grease in this AU?? Like... Idk. Maybe he's not so focused on his hair as he is in WFRR?? He's got too much crap to do?? XD (besides, if he has fluffy curly hair like I HC him having, then this would just help make him look more manic without compromising too much of him XD). I think maybe Greasy has also gotten a different suit. Still very green and fashionable, but not something so expensive like a zoot suit. So if it gets ruined, it's not a TOTAL loss. He's got plenty of cloth layers, though if he moves the right way and you look closely, you can see see hints of scars from knife fights along his collar (one in particular always aims for his heart and throat when fighting him). (I'm also thinking maybe he has a glass eye? I want Greasy to lose something important and how he attempts to 'fix it' or something).

Psycho... Oh Psycho... Well, for starters, he looks like he has mange. Patches of fur are ripped/scratched off of his body, and it's hard to tell how he got that way (d8d he do that to himself or does he just have really nasty fights??). His eyes are, somehow, even more intense than his WFRR self, and he has deeper bags under his eyes than Wheezy (why? Well, at least Wheezy will take a fricken nap if he has ten minutes to himself. Psycho will literally stay awake. The only one who has a chance at getting him to sleep is his S/O. And even then, that's not a guarantee. His S/O can just wake up in the middle of the night and see him staring at them.) His straightjacket is filthy; blood and mud caked on it, torn all over, the belts are frayed from him constantly fighting his restraints, etc. His fur (or skin if he's humanized) is pretty course and pale, and you can even see his veins underneath the skin. And he doesn't even try to hide his scars. Sometimes, if he's in a mood, he'll even show off his scars to his victims. As if telling them that he can't die. His teeth are pretty sharp, but yellow abd dirty too. You can sometimes even see bits of flesh between his teeth that he forgot to clean out. Just- Psycho has lost any cuteness he may have had in WFRR here 😅

(Bonus for Poppy since I feel obligated after giving you Shiny's description. She also looks mainly the same. A bit frazzled, but she's still her same self. Though her reading glasses gave some cracks and scratches now. Even if she's stuck with the weasels, she tries to clean herself up as much as she can (it's all the routine she has anymore), but she's still a bit messy. If she was a slasher, her hair would look more tangled and longer than curly and short now, despite how serene she looks. And she's lost plenty of sleep by now too. If you want, how do you think Lottie would look in this AU? If she's any different?)

Story wise, as well as the other WFRR characters, it like a horror version of the movie. Jessica and Roger got separated when he disappeared right alongside Marvin Acme. He had been an accidental witness to the murder of Doom's biggest obstacles, and the weasels were ordered to take care of him too (he lives! I promise!). Jessica is considered a suspect, though that doesn't stop her from contacting the retired murder detective Eddie Valient to help her. He's the only trustworthy man of the law in this town, despite his drunkenness and hatred for Toontown and its inhabitants. And now it's up to the two to find Roger and take down the corrupt judge and his accomplices once and for all (I'm not sure if I'd want this movie to end with the weasels' dying, or finally facing trial for all the things they've done under an honest judge (if the former... It would be delicious angst if Poppy had to take the stand and testify against them. Against Psycho. What do you think?(

Imagine Roger in the murder house!!! Psycho taking every chance he can get to terrify the rabbit. Greasy going through his wallet and making very unsettling comments about Jessica. Roger having to survive Stpid trying to hug him, etc. This poor final boy 😭

And finally, a few tidbits I've thought of for the slashers.

Psycho, kind of like how Otis corrupted the Firefly family, was the one who introduced cannibalism in the house. Before him, they would just commit murders, get rid of evidence, and be done with it. But they walked in on Psycho chewing on his victims' remains, one thing led to another, and they let him get his own feeezer in the basement.

We have discussed Wheezy not giving a damn which fridge he pulls meat out of, but we haven't talked about the other weasels. Psycho personally introduced Stupid to meat (the little dumb hot water bottle was crying after his brother yelled at him, and Psycho felt pity... And offered his condolences through his food). I don't think Stupid might tell the difference anymore??? He just- he loves his family, so he didn't judge when they started cooking people. He just went along with it. Smartass makes disgusted noises, but doesn't say a word. Ain't no way in hell is he getting on Psycho's bad side. Greasy also does not approve, but he is VERY vocal about it. And he doesn't care that it's 'immoral'. He just doesn't like Psycho.

I like to think Psycho has a tiny soft spot for Stupid in this AU. He doesn't see him as a friend, and he will still hurt Stu under the right circumstances. But he is noticeably softer with him. Almost like he can tell that Stupid's mistakes aren't his fault.

I'm thinking of swapping out Wheezy's Tommy with a regular revolver. I know! It's such a core part of Wheezy! That's why I haven't made it canon yet 😅 maybe he just has a vast array of guns in general, for different jobs??

That's all I got for now (I thought I had more tidbits but my mind went blank after Wheezy 😅). I hope you like this ask!! If there's more you want to add, or share your input, you know I'd be more than happy to listen ^^ (honestly I consider this a shared AU. Since you and I both love it so much and we've both inserted our OC's in it XD not to mention the fact that you have way more experience with slashers than I do.)

Slasher weasels slasher weasels slasher weasels slasher weasels slasher weasels--

I am still obsessed with this AU XD ALL THIS IS PERFECT! XD Their appearances?? The horror movie version!!?? Ahh I love this so so so much XD This whole AU itches such a niche n e e d of mine XD

Okay so Adult!Lottie's appearance! In the original timeline Lottie looks very healthy- soft blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail always, dresses in clothing easy to move in (thick camo pants and combat boots, clean tank tops, etc. She wants to be comfortable), and you can just tell due to her relaxed and yet controlled posture that this woman can beat anyone's ass. On the other hand Slasher!Lottie is kind of sickly. Her hair is generally out, and its on the greasy side, and she dies it a pitchy black, she's bony and weak, her clothes are generally on the older and more ragged side, etc. She's could absolutely be detained or held still if someone tried.

Now- Adult!Slasher!Lottie in the AU within an AU in which she, Poppy, Shiny and possibly Ryan escape- she lets stops dying her hair and lets the natural blonde come through. She still doesn't really take care of it, she's not used to that, so its still pretty oily and stressed (Imagine someone saying it looks greasy and Lottie kind of freezes. Eyes wide like a scared deer.). She just starts to look a lot better ^^

(**this, by the way, gave me thoughts of Lottie, after the escape, starting to date this really sweet guy her own age who treats her so so nice, who does kind things for her without expecting a thing in responce. He's just truly a cute, awkward gentleman who really likes her. Like, he kisses her on the cheek goodbye after a date and she then sits on the couch all pink-faced and happy for hours after, he gives her daisies and she keeps them until they're all shrivelled and brown and then she puts them in a book, he recognises that she's a little broken but he just wants to hang with her (he just genuinely likes her!! He thinks she's sweet, and pretty, and funny) so he'll wait as long as she needs to ever get physical- if she ever even does. He'll put up with Shiny giving him a hard time, he'll answer any probing question Ryan and possibly Kingston might have, he's happy to hang with Poppy and her, etc.

... then, of course, Slasher!Greasy finds them.) (... and THIS gave me a freddy x reader idea i now have a burning need to write- )

When she was a kid she constantly had smudges on her face, arms and knees from dirt and soot. In general Lottie just really represents the neglect.

ALSO!! I HAVE SOME TID BITS ALSO!! HERE! I HOPE YOU LIKE THEM!

Wheezy has a cops uniform in his closet, including aviators. It comes in handy when one of them (Mostly himself. as if he's gonna willingly help the others 🤣) is in deep water, or he's gotta lure a victim back. He got it, of course, from a cop he killed one time. He didn't kill the cop for the uniform- he just did it, an then though '... huh. could be useful'. (iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii am so not normal about the idea of slasher!wheezy in cop get-up man. I'm really not)

Smartass is not so much the leader, in this group. They don't really have a leader, seeing as they aren't really a team (I think they're a group, and they have to work together sometimes, but they arent official. They are still their own killers+duo in Smartass and Stupids case who happen to live together and do some sketchy shit for the same dodgy judge) and he doesn't really wanna be one. He's still bossy though, he just doesn't look out for them here.

To add onto your comment about Greasy making uncomfortable comments about Jessica to Roger- first of all, I got s u c h Foxy vibes from that XD Like that bit when he's talking to that hunter guys about his 'sister-wive's tits'? And second of all, EUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH, GREASY TAKES OUT VICTIMS WALLETS AND FINDING THE PICTURES OF THEIR PRETTY WIVES, GIRLFRIENDS, SISTERS, MOTHERS, BEST FRIENDS, COUSINS, ETC AND KEEPING THEM. THEY ARE NOW HIS MASTURBATION FODDER. IMAGINE HIM TUCKING THE PICTURES BACK INTO THE NOW-COPRSES POCKETS WITH UHHH, A PARTICULAR CONCERNING LIQUID, ON THEM LIKE 'eh, he can have this back now. i had my fun~ '

Imagine Stupid seeing Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and feeling a connection with Bubba <3 Smartass turns the TV off.

Psycho... I have nothing for him, I'm sorry 😅

[innerchorus]

Okay, instead of making a million disjointed Gurgin posts like I’m constantly tempted to do, it occurs to me that I can just... put them all in the same post.

Two thoughts that are breaking my brain at the moment; 1. the fact that Nakamura’s manga made me consider a blonde Gurgin (it’s like the sequel to blonde Isfan but worse... though if I have to imagine them with light hair then they can both have silver/grey because blonde just does not work for me, lmao) and 2. trying to picture Gurgin wearing white back when he was training to become a priest...

(He was MADE for wearing black. I do sometimes think about what he would wear if he left Team Zahhak and their typical attire behind, but it’s hard to see him wearing a lot of colour even then.)

(This is funny though because in the novels Team Zahhak wear dark grey.)

Do you ever come across a reference to something historical or whatever and just think ‘that has to be included in an AU somehow’ because that happened to me most recently with the Castle of Oblivion. It’s in Khuzestan, like the Temple of Mithra. I think I’m going to incorporate it into Gurgin’s backstory somehow, like maybe he and his brother and Farangis visited its ruins together once when they were at the temple together, but (unbeknownst to them) way back in the day it used to be used by the priesthood to imprison users of magic / those suspected of following Zahhak. Nowadays they just kill them instead. That’s another thing that the temple trio don’t know about (at least, not yet). Who knows, maybe even the Master himself was familiar with this place!

I’m... really tempted to give Gurgin a different eye colour in every AU I imagine him in. Is this because I’m indecisive and can’t quite settle on one? Maybe. But I also kind of like the idea of this one inconsequential visual difference between all of the different ‘versions’ of Gurgin and his story that I like to think about.

(Interlude aka Magical Healing AU is the only one that has much of anything actually written for it, and his eye colour there is a grey-green, but I do like the thought of a pale blue-grey too, or even brown like his brother, though that might be too similar as they both have dark hair and I like the thought that their eye colour sets them apart distinctly... having said that I was considering a deep reddish-brown/mahogany colour for Mage Hunt AU, I’m not sure why.)

I feel I should admit to the fact that I think about Mage Hunt AU and the eventual Zandeh/Gurgin all the time... like, why yes, Zandeh, you will end up deeply in love with the man you once called a “slimy little freak”. You will love him with your whole heart. You will love his mind, his body and his soul, and you will not want to imagine a future without him by your side. (And thankfully, you won’t have to. This one has a happy ending!)

I was indulging myself recently by imagining Gurgin reuniting with Aghriras in the afterlife, since the novels do seem to indicate that one exists and this is possible. Yeah, I know, it’s absolutely delusional to think that Gurgin would be allowed into Parsian heaven lmao, but... maybe eventually? Just imagining Aghriras wordlessly holding him in a tight hug.

Revisiting some of the content regarding Zahhak’s blood and its mind-control powers in the novels recently has actually been very relevant to my interests in that recently I’d started considering yet another AU (probably like an eventual bad end for well past the events of Interlude, where Gurgin is still firmly Team Zahhak, tries to have it all and ends up suffering the consequences). I would personally describe it as ‘averting canon horror by committing AU atrocities’ but to be more specific, Gurgin ends up saving Zandeh’s life by giving him Zahhak’s blood, and it’s not going to end well. (Sorry, Gurgin. He’ll probably kill you in the end.)

The fact that Gurgin most likely knows exactly where Zandeh is in the second half is just so useful to me. You can’t tell me that this little snake wouldn’t have been reading Namard and Kermine’s letters whenever he got the chance.

Also I am 👀 at the fact that Gurgin recognises that Kermine’s love for Namard would have caused problems for Team Zahhak in the future if he’d lived, while Ghundi is totally oblivious (and annoyed at Gurgin for not telling him before). Gurgin seems surprised that Ghundi doesn’t know. Perhaps he thought it was obvious; however, he may also have deliberately kept quiet about it and is now making a jab at his comrade (like ‘I can’t believe you didn’t notice it, you really don’t know?’). Anyway, this is definitely of interest to me, because I wonder if he’s not been with Team Zahhak for long enough for his perceptiveness of such things to be completely deadened.

Also poor guy, at this point he’s totally sleep deprived and exhausted from the constant racket that the winged apes have been making

(My little headcanon is that back in the time when he and Zandeh were both in Ecbatana, he would sometimes go and sleep in Zandeh’s bed during the day.)

Tanaka: 'In the past, in addition to the Holy Master there were eight people in this room; now only two remained. The anxiety and loneliness of the mages was deeply felt.’ 😢

Weirdest thing I have researched for Sacrifice AU so far: what happens if someone drinks heavy water (yeah, Gurgin... don’t drink from that weird underground well...)

I want to make a Gurgin playlist... I will accept suggestions!

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #gurgin #he was MADE for wearing black #i want to cuddle my blorbo #zandeh will have to do it for me

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

How scientifically plausible do you think andalites are?

Do I think they literally exist somewhere in the universe? Nah. I'm agnostic on the question of alien life existing at all, but I assume those aliens in particular are the product of K.A. Applegate's imagination.

Do I think they could exist? Sure, but at least partially because it is hard and weird describing an animal for which no one has any direct experience. Like how everyone spent centuries going "unicorns don't exist!" and then historians were like "Okay, so imagine describing a rhino to someone who has never seen one, and then that person describes your description to a poet, and the poem gets stored in a damp room but someone finds it a century later with half its words missing, and that person makes a drawing of the poem, and someone else finds that drawing and writes a description..." And next thing you know, we've got unicorns in the historical record. Same goes for griffins: it's kind of sensible for a person to look at that

[Image ID: A cassowary, a flightless bird with black plumage and a blue-and-red head, walking on a beach.]

which is the same height as a human, and go "Okay, dude, imagine if a bird was somehow also a horse..."

So I think andalites make sense, in the sense that we never get this absolute perfect taxidermic description of one. Instead we get Cassie or Marco or whoever going "Okay, so suppose there's a deer that's also a scorpion, but human-like, only the kind of human-like that has hoof-mouths and snail eyeballs, and then imagine blue..." And there's a ton of room to interpret that description in hundreds of different ways. I've seen art where andalites look sexipedal or quadrupedal, where they have chins or snouts, where their tails are rattlesnake-like or where their tails are tentacle-like, where they have four human-like eyes or two owl-like eyes and two deer-like eyes. So on and so forth. So, like, I think there's room in that description for any number of interpretations, and some of them are closer to real biology than others.

#animorphs #animorphs meta #andalites #y'all i think A LOT about giant sloths and other extinct megafauna every time someone brings up ancient giants #the ancient giants were real #the stories kept a record of them even while science was stumbling around clueless in the dark #so it goes #so it always goes

[indigowallbreaker]

may i please request dimitri x bernadetta with the tiny hands and big hands hand holding prompt? (maybe pre timeskip for the extra cuteness/awkwardness) i love this ship so much but it's almost nonexistent T-T

It has been so long since I’ve done a story from Bernadetta’s POV! Time to fix that.

(Currently accepting rare ships! Click here for the info post!)

--

On her first day as the newest member of the Blue Lion house, Bernadetta had been on high alert for anything-- teasing from a certain redhead, more pushiness from a certain pegasus rider, even death. 

What she hadn’t expected was for the Professor to hand her a wooden lance as soon as the Lions filed into the training grounds. “Your first assignment is to learn how to fight with this,” Professor had said.  

And so Bernadetta claimed the bench furthest from the rest of the class and held her lance miserably. This was too much change for one day. How could the Professor be so cruel? Bernadetta had transferred so she could be more comfortable, not so she could navigate a brand new weapon! A melee weapon at that. Didn’t the Professor know anything about Bernadetta’s fighting style? Weren’t there records or files of this kind of thing?!

Loud footsteps made Bernadetta look up, and she gripped the lance tight on reflex. Prince Dimitri stopped a good distance away. He smiled at Bernadetta and waved. She just stared back, trying to guess what he could possibly want from her.

“Hello,” he said after some silence.

“Hi,” she replied automatically.

“I, um, see you have a lance.” He pointed at her lap.

“Y-Yeah.”

“That’s good. They are fine weapons.”

Bernadetta frowned. Were they? She had been all set with her bow. Maybe this was his way of ordering her to train-- Dimitri was the house leader after all, not to mention a prince.

Dimitri cleared his throat. “Would you care to spar together?”

There weren’t words to describe how bad an idea that was. Bernadetta could only shake her head, prepared to bolt if he insisted.

Instead, Dimitri gave a too-loud laugh and looked away. “Of course not, sorry. That is too much. Um, may I have a seat instead?” He gestured to the other side of the bench.

“Y-You can have it.” Bernadetta shot to her feet. “You can have the whole bench! I’ll find a different bench. Bye!” 

Dimitri blocked her escape, both hands up placatingly. “Wait! Please!” Bernadetta took a few steps back and ended up half falling back onto the bench again. Stunned, Bernadetta dropped the lance. It rolled until it hit Dimitri’s boots. They both stared at it for a moment.

Lowering his hands, Dimitri spoke slowly, “I’m sorry if I offended you. I just wish to learn more about you.”

“W-Why?!” Bernadetta’s eyes darted around helplessly. If she could just get the Professor to notice she was in danger--

“Because Professor Byleth has explained that you scare easily, and I thought you might... like a friend.”

All of Bernadetta’s focus went back to Dimitri. She tilted her head at him. “You want to be my friend?” She repeated 

He chuckled. “Was my attempt that clumsy? Yes, Bernadetta. I would like to be your friend. At the very least I would like you to be more at ease around me.”

“B-Because you’re the house leader?”  

“Well, yes. But also because it’s hard to train with someone you are not comfortable with. I’m not sure if the Professor told you, but we train together a lot in the Blue Lions.”

Bernadetta looked down at her discarded lance. It seemed she wasn’t alone in valuing the comfortable and familiar. “I prefer fighting with a bow and arrow,” Bernadetta confessed. “It keeps me away from people, both enemies and allies. I don’t know how to use a lance and I don’t want to know. T-That’s why I don’t want to spar with you. I’m sorry.”

Dimitri bent and picked up the lance. “You know, the entire point of a lance is to put distance between yourself and your opponent,” he explained.

“It is?”

“See how long it is? This is not a weapon for close quarter combat, like a sword or an axe. It’s best suited for keeping the enemy at bay. I would think that makes it the perfect alternate weapon for you.” Dimitri held out the lance with a small smile. Bernadetta stared at it. Was all that true? It made sense, the more she thought about it. Perhaps she should have trust the Professor’s judgement.

Nodding to herself, Bernadetta stood, stretched out her hand-- and hesitated. What if this whole thing was a plot to humiliate her in front of her new classmates? There was no way she was as strong as the others here. Maybe her aim was good but she didn’t have muscles like Felix or Ingrid. She would make a fool of herself if she started swinging around a lance! Oh why didn’t she run away when she had the chance?!

Dimitri took her outstretched hand. Bernadetta tensed but didn’t pull herself free, too stunned to act. “You do not have to decide right now” he said. “I can speak to the Professor about letting you train with the bow and arrow today, if you like.”

Bernadetta squeezed his hand. “Could you? That would be great! I-I’m sure you’re right that I could use a lance but, it’s just, it’s too much today. I don’t think I can-- I’m sorry.”

Dimitri’s smile softened. “It’s alright. As I said, it’s important to be at ease with your partner. Once you are more comfortable with us, then we can see about getting you comfortable with a new weapon.”

“O-Okay...” Bernadetta looked down at their hands. His were so big compared to hers. It should have been scary, but it was surprisingly comforting. Like he could protect her just by holding her hand. 

They stood there long enough that Dimitri cleared his throat again. She looked up to find him blushing. “I should-- I will go speak with Professor Byleth.” Dimitri said. But he didn’t move.

Bernadetta stared. He seemed nervous all of a sudden. What did a big guy like him have to be nervous about? Maybe it was the idea of talking to the Professor. It sometimes made Bernadetta nervous, that was for sure. “I-I’ll go with you! It’s only right, since you’re doing this for me.” Still holding his hand, she began leading them towards the far end of the training grounds where Professor Byleth stood with the rest of the class.

“Um, alright then. Thank you.”

“No problem. It’s honestly a relief to know I’m not the only shy one in this class.” She tried to smile encouragingly at him, but found his cheeks had grown redder. Oh no. Was she embarrassing him? Was she making things worse?! Way to go, Bernie, you just embarrassed the Prince of the Kingdom in front of the whole class! 

Then Dimitri smiled down at her. It lit up his eyes and complimented his blush in a way that Bernadetta found almost maybe kind of cute. “I’m not sure if anyone has said this yet but, welcome to the Blue Lion House, Bernadetta.”

That smile caused Bernadetta’s entire face to heat up. She looked away, pushing back panic. “Ah, um, t-thank you,” she managed, squeezing his hand again.

Despite starting off the day in a miserable corner with an unknown weapon in a brand new class, Bernadetta felt strangely optimistic as they approached Professor Byleth. Maybe, with a friend like Dimitri, life as a Blue Lion wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

#fire emblem three houses #bernadetta von varley #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #bernimitri #dimidetta #rare pair run #hand prompts #really laid on the preskip awkwardness bc that was a great idea anon

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖      

Chapter 47 - Viva Las Vegas. Episode 4. I apologize for the shorter episodes, Tumblr is limiting texts posts again, and I literally have to cut a speech in half. 2nd part here <- click

------Evan's point of view------

Evan: I was very nervous, more nervous than before the ceremony, as I stood there in front of all of them, with my piece of paper in my hands, observing all of them. I cleared my throat, and took a deep breath Once again, I thank you all for being here today, and for helping Andy and I, making this day truly special. I paused a few seconds, then went on I stand before you here today, one husband richer. And I can honestly say, my heart has never been happier. I often hear, how people has a hard time figuring me out, that I keep things too close to my heart, and never show much public feelings. Well, at least no the big ones. So, for this one time, I will take all these feelings, and lay them bare, for all of you to look at. And this is how I feel; Andy, I still remember the first time I met you. You walked in with you cocky attitude, your bright mohawk and way too colorful mashup of clothes. And you walked straight into my heart. First, and for many years as my best friend, later as my lover, boyfriend, fiance, and today husband. Or should I say wife? Everyone laughed warmly Who is really the girl in this relationship? Many people will probably ask me that over the years, and my reply will always be the same. Andy. Everyone laughed again No, in this relationship, no one, is the girl, and isn't that kinda the point? He's gay, so for a girl to be in the relationship, it would mean he had gone back in time. Everyone laughed And I always only wanted him to walk forwards. He's gay, and I'm… me. And despite lacking the gay 'gene', I love my Andy, more than anything. Andy… you're the one I always looked to when I needed advice. When I needed someone to lean on. You were always there for me through the years, and for that, I'm forever thankful. I look to you and I see light, love, bright colors I gestured on top of my head to indicate his mohawk, and everyone laughed I see joy, happiness, a big heart, love and above all, I see my future. When I first found myself falling for you, I got scared, and quite a few times the thought of running away crossed my mind. But then I looked at you. This pure, innocent being, with sadness in your eyes. And all I wanted was to make you happy. No matter the cost. And that's how I knew I had to let myself tumble down the rabbits hole, no matter how frightening it seemed to me. Cause at the end of that hole, was you. And I knew I would be home. And you took my hand, and showed me how wonderful life can be. And even though I from time to time I got scared, you held on tight, assuring me everything would be fine. And it was fine. You staid by my side in all the months to come, where I was curled up in bed, scared and depressed. You never left me alone to drown. You were never pushy either, but made sure I knew you were there at my speed. Ready to give me whatever I needed, whenever I needed it. And for that, I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone. You fill my heart with so much warmth, and a love greater than I could ever have hoped for. A wise man once told me you were a rare and magnificent unicorn, one of the last on earth. I looked to Congo, and he smiled softly at me I used to think he was just being sentimental, but over this past almost year with you, I have come to realize these words are true. So if I were to describe you on this day, our wedding day, I would tell the tale, of the most enchanted creature I ever knew. The tale of the white unicorn, with the bright blue mohawk. And how he made me believe in not only myself, but also a love that conquers all. A love that will last a life time. You are the pure essence of love, floating through my veins, and everything around us. You are the reason for the smile on my lips. The sound of my beating heart, as it always beats a little faster around you.

#unicornmanes #Evan Thompson #Andycorn #Andy Shaw-Thompson #Congo Shaw

[polygonal-trees]

Cyberverse Appreciation Week day four: romance AND divorce because this is megop babyy

*blows dust off WIP*

I was going to do another drawing but I pulled something in my shoulder 😅 I’m really pleased with how this fic turned out tho!

Summary: Megatron survived the attack by the Other One, but it left him in deep stasis for a long time. Now he’s finally woken up, Optimus finally gets to talk with him... but it doesn’t quite go as expected.

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Also on AO3

The news comes early one morning, while Optimus is finishing the dregs of his breakfast energon cube. The sender is Ratchet. The message is short and to the point, but enough to bring Optimus' day to a short, sharp halt.

'He's awake.'

Optimus doesn't have to ask who 'he' is. Doesn't have to ask anything, in fact. He has been preparing for this day for a while now, even if the news has him feeling helpless and lost.

But with the steely resolve that brought him through the War, Optimus clears his schedule and sets out for New Iacon Hospital.

Optimus stops at the door, squeezing his optics shut for a moment as he braces himself. Beyond the thin sheets of metal, Optimus can hear the gruff rumble of Megatron's voice interspersed with Ratchet's, achingly familiar even if he can't make out the words. It's been so long. The moment he's both longed for and dreaded is finally upon him, and now Optimus doesn't know what to feel. This could change everything – destroy everything. But he knows he cannot turn away.

With a steadying vent, Optimus enters the room.

It looks like any other hospital hab – a clean white room with a few accents of calming blue. The window in the far wall is open, inviting in a gentle breeze along with the morning sunlight. There's a small holoscreen – switched off – mounted on the left side wall, and opposite, of course, is a medberth, flanked by the machines required to tend a long-term intensive care patient. A chair here, an empty vase there – all part of a perfectly normal hospital scene… except for the patient himself.

Optimus' spark aches as he steps further into the room. He truly doesn't know what to feel. Relieved? Worried? Angry? Overjoyed? Megatron is many things to many people, and to Optimus… well. They never quite figured it out.

Ratchet pauses in checking one of the monitors when he hears the door swish closed, and straightens up. The look he gives Optimus is... odd. If he didn't know any better, Optimus would describe it as an almost malicious glee. It's enough to give Optimus a clue that something isn't quite right.

"Hi Optimus," Ratchet says cheerfully, before turning back to his patient. "Look, Megatron. Look who it is!"

Somewhat perturbed by this, Optimus finally convinces himself to approach the berth, if just to see what's going on. He cannot imagine Megatron putting up with being spoken to in such a condescending manner, and he half wonders if Ratchet only called him here to deal with the inevitable furious shouting fit.

But Megatron isn't looking furious at all.

He's sitting up, if supported by a few pillows, optic bright and plating shiny. He's almost as good as new, apart from the patch where his broken optic was and the scar-metal over his chest. And when he actually listens to Ratchet, eagerly turning his helm to see his visitor, the biggest smile Optimus has ever seen stretches across his faceplates.

"Optimus!" Megatron beams.

Oh.

Oh no.

Optimus gets it, now.

He fixes the amused Ratchet with a long, hard, unimpressed stare. It's not uncommon for mechs coming out of medical stasis to feel a little… off. Stasis isn't the same as recharge after all, and certain parts of the processor don't always boot up quite right. It's not dangerous, and nothing a proper defrag won't fix, but until then…

"I missed you," says Megatron, with a spark-deep sincerity that has Ratchet barely suppressing a laugh.

…Until then, Optimus will be treated to a very different Megatron.

Ratchet catches his eye again and winks. Optimus doesn't dignify him with a response, but can admit to himself that his anxiety is slowly unwinding. He'll still have to deal with the inevitable fallout, but not yet. Not now.

Optimus pulls the chair over and settles down. "I missed you too," he says softly.

"I'll let you catch up in private," Ratchet interjects, before handing Megatron a bright blue energon-pop usually reserved for newsparks at their first check-up. Ratchet is professional to the core, but if there's one patient he wouldn't have any reservations making fun of...

Megatron stares at the energon-pop as if he's never seen one before, before slowly putting it in his mouth. His optic widens, and he makes a pleased little sound that finally puts a smile on Optimus' face.

The door opens and closes again, leaving them alone. Optimus gets comfortable, knowing he’ll be there for a while.

"How do you feel?" he begins.

"Good!" Megatron says. “Where are we?”

“In the hospital,” says Optimus. “You uh… got hurt. Remember?”

Megatron’s face falls. “Oh yeah.” A faint shudder passes through his frame. “Where did you go?”

"Pardon?" says Optimus, slightly nonplussed.

"I missed you," Megatron repeats plaintively, gnawing on the energon-pop. "I remember…" he frowns, expression turning pained. "I remember you were there… when he hurt me. And then you… weren't."

"Oh, I see." It makes sense – it's been more than a stellar cycle since the Other One's attack, but to Megatron's stasis-addled processor it's only been a few moments. Waking up alone when his last memory was of being held in Optimus' arms must have been jarring.

"I'm sorry," says Optimus, "but I'm here now."

"Mm." Megatron crunches a bit off the energon-pop and swallows it. "Stay."

Hesitantly, Optimus slides his servo into Megatron's. "Alright," he agrees. "I'll stay for as long as I can."

Megatron's fingers close around his own, surprisingly strong for a mech just out of stasis but nothing compared to the gladiator's former power. He snuggles back into his pillows, smiling lopsidedly around the stick poking out of his mouth. "Optimus?"

"Yes?"

"I missed you."

"Uh, I know," Optimus says, not sure how to respond. This isn't real, he reminds himself – Megatron is confused, his processor isn't working properly, he doesn't know what he's saying. It would be irresponsible, wrong to take any real meaning from this.

"Before, Optimus," Megaton stresses, squeezing Optimus' hand a little tighter for a moment. "I missed you before… With the War… With the Wall…"

Optimus squeezes back. “The War is over, and the wall is gone – we can see each other whenever we want.”

Megatron blinks – or rather winks – in confusion. “The Wall’s gone?” he asks.

“Uh… well, yes…” Optimus scrambles to come up with a reason that won’t bring about a fit of rage. Or maybe ‘tantrum’ would be more appropriate. “You see–”

“Good!” Megatron grins again. “We can meet whenever we want!”

Optimus smiles wryly. “…Yes. We can.”

“I didn’t want the Wall,” Megatron mumbles. He stares up at Optimus, optic wide and beseeching, looking more like he's trying to hide in the pillows than relax into them, and drops his voice to a whisper.

"But I had to keep… him out."

Optimus' spark gives a funny little squeeze.

"It's alright," he murmurs soothingly, leaning in a little closer. "The Other One is gone. Forever."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise, Megatron."

"Good." Megatron relaxes with a shudder, and resumes crunching on his energon-pop. Optimus has barely begun to gather his thoughts before–

"Did you miss me?"

Optimus flinches. It isn't real, he reminds himself. It isn't real. It isn't–

"Yes," he confesses.

Every moment they were apart.

“I’m sorry.” Megatron's voice is thick with static. "Optimus, I’m sorry–!"

Oh no no no no nonono–

"Hey, hey, it's ok, it's alright." Optimus quickly leans forward, cupping Megatron's cheek with his free hand. It feels so easy, so natural, as if they were never apart at all – but Optimus doesn't spare time to think about that, because he cannot see Megatron cry. He can't. He doesn't know what he'd do.

“I forgive you,” Optimus says, and dammit but he means it. “I forgive you for everything.”

Megatron’s engine gives a little hiccup. “Even though I hurt you?”

“We hurt each other,” Optimus says, running his thumb soothingly over Megatron’s cheek. “Do you forgive me?”

“Yes,” Megtron says at once. The energon-pop is still poking out of his mouth.

“Then I forgive you.”

Megatron takes a shaky breath and seems to calm down. Optimus leans back, barely suppressing a sigh of relief. Thank Primus. Optimus can barely handle his own emotions…

Megatron’s brow creases, and he squeezes Optimus’ servo as if checking he’s still there.

“What do you want to do?” Optimus asks. “When you’re better, I mean.”

“Hmm…” Megatron’s gaze shifts to the far wall as he frowns in concentration. “Drive,” he says eventually, looking back at Optimus with that same painfully earnest expression. “With you.”

Optimus begins idly tracing the seams on Megatron’s hand. “Where to?”

“Anywhere.” Megatron crunches off the last of the energon-pop and lets the stick drop from his mouth. Optimus picks it up and tosses it in the waste bin in the corner. Megatron looks vaguely disappointed.

“It’s nice just to drive sometimes, isn’t it?” The open sky, warm road beneath his wheels… Optimus knows the feeling well. “I’d be happy to go with you.”

Although the first place Megatron will go when he’s out of hospital is on trial. It’s completely necessary that justice be served, but Optimus still feels a pang in his spark. He wishes desperately for a moment that Megatron won’t recover – that he’ll stay like this forever, open and earnest and… innocent. They could be happy…

But it’s a terribly selfish wish to make. And besides, it’s not what Optimus truly desires.

“Tell it to me,” says Megatron, oblivious to Optimus’ pain. “Tell me where we’ll go.”

It’s been a long time since he’s traveled without a destination. Optimus casts his gaze to the window and thinks.

“I hear the Manganese Mountains are splendid at this time of year,” he begins. “The terrain is rough, but we could manage it together.”

Megatron relaxes fully into the pillows and blinks sleepily. Optimus hesitates. That same selfish part of him doesn’t want Megatron to sleep, because if he does then this quiet, peaceful, beautiful moment will be over. The next time Megatron wakes, they’ll be back to fighting each other.

But dreams cannot last forever.

“We’ll drive up to the peak, where we’ll see Cybertron spread out all around us – Croaton, New Iacon, the Lithium Flats, the Argon Sea…”

“I want to see the sea,” Megatron mumbles, optic half-shuttered.

“We’ll climb down the mountain, and go to the beach,” Optimus agrees. “Your treads will do well on the sand, but I expect my wheels will have some trouble.”

“I’ll carry you,” Megatron breathes

“We’ll continue along the coast,” Optimus says around the lump in his throat. “Maybe… maybe explore some caves. There’s supposed to be treasure hidden in one of them.”

Megatron mumbles something else, but the words are obscured by approaching sleep.

“And after that… we can go back inland, to Carburisia to see the Cobalt Springs.” Optimus is just making stuff up at this point. There’s no real way to drive straight to Carburisia from the Argon Sea.

“And once we’re done there… we can go back to the cities. Maybe stop off at some new settlements along the way… there are some prosperous new energon farms…” Optimus’ voice drops to a whisper. “And when we’re back in New Iacon… I’ll take you home with me.”

Megatron doesn’t hear him. Megatron is sound asleep. He looks so peaceful, mouth slightly open, sunlight glowing softly on his face.

Slowly, tenderly, Optimus sets his hand down. He stares for a moment more, unable to pull himself away, before finally getting to his feet and leaving the hospital room. He passes Ratchet, but doesn’t say anything. Optimus needs to think. He needs… a long, long time to think.

-

The news comes late one afternoon, while Optimus is driving home after a long day of work. The sender is Ratchet. The message is short and to the point, but enough to bring Optimus' night to a short, sharp halt.

'He's awake.'

Optimus doesn't have to ask who 'he' is. Doesn't have to ask anything, in fact. He has been doing his best to prepare for this day, even if the news has him feeling more helpless and lost than he ever has before in his life.

But with the steely resolve that brought him through the War, Optimus turns around and sets off for New Iacon Hospital.

-

There are guards outside the door this time. An Autobot and a Decepticon. They both nod respectfully when Optimus arrives, neither surprised to see him. Part of Optimus wants to stop and chat for a minute, ask inane questions and delay the inevitable, but that wouldn’t be fair to them. That wouldn’t be fair to Megatron.

He’s alone when Optimus arrives. Out of bed, too, standing by the window and gazing out at New Iacon’s silhouette against the orange twilight. With his back to the door, his expression is unreadable.

Optimus stops dead just a few steps into the room. He takes a breath, trying to remember what he decided he was going to say, but Megatron gets there first.

“You actually did it,” he murmurs, not turning around.

“Pardon?” says Optimus, immediately confused.

Megatron laughs softly under his breath. “Peace,” he explains, nodding to the window. “A united Cybertron.”

“I didn’t do it alone.” Optimus manages another step forward. “Megatron–”

Megatron turns at last, outlined against the setting sun. He looks confident and calm, despite the stasis cuffs around his wrists.

“Why are you here, Prime?” he asks mockingly. “To rub it in? To gloat?”

“I would never,” Optimus says coldly, stung by the reminder of how little Megatron understands him now. “I want what I have always wanted – peace and understanding. And I will do everything in my power to maintain it.” He clenches his jaw and looks Megatron dead in the eye. He’s practiced these words, knows exactly what he has to say.

“This is your only chance, Megatron. If you threaten what we have built, I will kill you.”

To his surprise, Megatron looks away first.

“I know,” he says simply. “I–” a subtle shift, a crack in the veneer, “I do not want to fight you anymore.”

Optimus feels his shoulders slump. He walks across the room to stand beside his former friend, taking his own moment to gaze at his beloved city. It really is beautiful, metal and glass gleaming, light filling windows as night creeps in.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to fight you either.”

They stand in silence for what feels like an age, until the first stars have appeared in the darkened sky.

“Optimus,” says Megatron, a near imperceptible waver in his voice, “what do I do? What… happens now?”

“You will be put on trial,” Optimus recites, because at least he knows the words. “You will be judged by both Autobots and Decepticons. You will have an attorney. Your fate will be decided by Cybertron.” He casts a sideways glance at Megatron. “You will not be executed.” Optimus had made sure of that.

“After all this time,” Megatron says with a sigh, “death is the least of my concerns.”

Optimus faces him again. Megatron looks… tired. Not angry, not vengeful, not scheming, just… tired. Optimus knows the feeling well.

“I missed you,” he says softly, words slipping free without thought.

Megatron stiffens. He looks down, almost bashful.

Optimus reaches out. Slowly. Leaving plenty of time for Megatron to move away.

He doesn’t.

Optimus squeezes his shoulder. “Whatever happens,” he breathes, words deafening in the silence, “I will be there.”

Because through everything, despite everything, that is what they have been to each other – a universal constant, for better and for worse, for now and forever.

Megatron’s smile is crooked, but his gaze is soft when he meets Optimus’ eye. “I know.”

#cyberverseappreciationweek #cyberverse #transformers cyberverse #megop #transformers fanfiction #my writing #shipping

[razorblade180]

Nine Days of Lancaster

[Day 4: Soulmate au]

Everything has a routine. From the everyday worker, to the cat resting on a fence. Cars pass by, birds call, life goes on. I’m truth, there’s nothing wrong with that. Not everything is meant to be grand. However, everything was meant to have color, vibrant and glorious visuals that made the mundane a little more grand. Unfortunately such a right was only given when life’s greatest thing was found, love.

Jaune Arc walked through the muted Vale streets. It wasn’t too bad. Color wasn’t truly loved, but never experienced deeply by most. Faint flickers of green signaled him to cross the street which, rushing to lunch before meeting with his visiting family. He weaved around the colorless bystanders then continued on his way. He was making good time. That was until Jaune made a sharp left turn around a corner. The young man was stopped dead in his tracks as somebody crashed right into him, toppling them over and sending a skateboard into the road.

“Ugh..what on Remnant?” Jaune groaned as rubbed his side. It felt like he hit a car instead of a person. He looked across from him to see why that was. Oh it was a person alright. Unlike him however, they had a helmet. “Hey, are you o-”

His words were caught in his throat as the stranger sat up, removing the helmet to rub their head. Slowly, as if like tie dye, color begin to spill into the world before his eyes. Stark black hair revealed hints of red end. Their fair skin became more peach while white jeans became blue and muted gray turned to black. The only color that remained unchanged was the pool of silver eyes he peered into. With a couple blinks, Jaune Arc’s world became vibrant.

Ruby looked that boy she just hit and gasped, hoping to her feet. “Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry.” She reached her hand out to help him up. “Dad always tells me not to skate on busy sidewalks. Guess I should’ve listened. Are you okay?”

“Umm…uhhhh”

“Oh no, I broke you!” She panicked. The girl had half a mind to call for medical help, when a hard snap made them both turn around to see a big truck pass by and broken board in the street. Her jaw dropped and so did her head.

“Woah, bad luck.” Jaune said.

“Oh, so you can speak? Guess that’s good.” She sighed, “Well, guess I deserved it.”

“I’m partly to blame. I shouldn’t be running around corners like that. Are you…okay?” He quickly became aware of this girl’s beauty again, making him nervous.

“Me? I had the helmet. You’re the one rubbing your ribs. Oof, please tell me they’re not broken?”

“No, no, I’m…pretty sure?” He was legitimate pain but not that much pain. “I might bruise by I tend to bounce back quickly.”

He saw her frown. Clearly she wasn’t convinced and by her earlier reaction, probably feels bad. Jaune wasn’t really sure what to do. He didn’t even know her name. Also, she didn’t appear to be as startled as he was either. He didn’t want to think about it much but it’s entirely possible that he was only one seeing in color now. That’s happened to more than a few unfortunate people.

“That’s unfortunate.” He thought to himself. Still, everything and anything became more…alive. Even the sky he’s seen all his life was finally the magnificent blue his parents described. That alone was a blessing. Not the mention the sense of warmth he was getting from her. It made him nervous, but not unpleasant.

“Were you going some place important? With your board gone, I don’t mind buying you a bus ticket.”

“Don’t worry about all that. I wasn’t going any place special. Just my sister’s. Anyways, scroll.” She holds out her hand.

“Excuse me?”

“Your scroll. I’m giving you my number. If you end up having to see a doctor or anything then call me. I’ll pay the bill.”

“Oh, you don’t really have t-”

“Scroll please.”

“Yes ma’am.” Her stern yet polite voice was somehow both sweet and intimidating. He got his scroll back and took a look. “Ruby Rose, that’s a nice name. I’m Jaune Arc by the way. A not as nice name.”

“Hehe, I don’t know. Rolls off the tongue pretty easily. Well I hope you feel better genuinely. If not, don’t hesitate to call. I’m a clutz but a responsible one.” She said with pride.

Jaune got a laugh at that. He nodded and just like that, Ruby went on her way. He saw her look at her board for a moment before her shoulders slouched as she abandoned the idea of grabbing the pieces.

“Ruby Rose…huh.”

xxxxxx

“I can’t believe you hit someone!”

“Leave me alone!” Ruby yelled defensively, plopping down on her sister’s couch. “I lost the board and my knee hurts. I’ve suffered enough. Yang, please tell me you have an ice pack or something?”

“You’re lucky I always have a bag of something frozen whenever you get hurt. Hold on.” She walked over to her kitchen.

“You always have something because you don’t cook.” Ruby mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing~”

“Thought so.” Yang chuckled, opening the freezer. “So, what’s this Jaune fellow look like?”

“Tall, a bit scraggly, but seemed nice. Also…deep blue eyes.”

“Oh yeah? That sounds n-” it took a second but did she hear that right? Yang immediately closed the fridge and ran back to the living room to see her sister bunched up in the corner of the couch, a deep blush on her face.

A smile slowly started to spread across the older sister’s face. “Ruby, can you see in color!?”

She hugged her knees, “Oh you know…yeah~”

“You ran over your soulmate!?”

“It was a crash and I think I did!”

Yang in her special way started off getting really excited for Ruby, before immediately bursting into laughing. All Ruby could do was cover her face in embarrassment. She didn’t need any color to know just how red she must’ve been. Oh well. At least she got his number.

#rwby #ruby rose #jaune arc #rwby lancaster #9daysoflan22 #yang xiao long

[powerfxls]

( sophie turner  +  twenty-five  +  she/they  )  look who has entered camp halfblood college !  meet VICTORIE BABINEAUX ,  the child of DIONYSUS .  they have been living in long island for seven years and are currently studying psychology. when someone describes them, they are often described as INDEPENDENT and RESENTFUL. zeus believes they are responsible for stealing the lightning bolt but is that something they are capable of doing?

trigger warnings: mental illness, parental neglect because of mental illness (caused by demigod powers)

name: victorie babineaux 'vic-twa'

age: twenty-five

height: 5'9

hair color: red

eye color: blue

birthplace: marseille, france

major: psychology

gender: demi-woman

pronouns: she/they

starsign: scorpio

sexuality: pansexual

Powers

super human strength, stamina, durability, speed, and agility

madness manipulation - victorie's most powerful gift is the power over insanity, she's gotten better at it over the years but she causes more than she cures. she can also manipulate people who are afflicted with madness.

chlorokinesis (plant manipulation) - a standard of any dionysus child. she refuses to help with anything that may help her father, she only does it for herself or her siblings.

Family

father: dionysus. god of grape-harvest, wine, orchards, fertility, madness, parties, religious ecstasy, and theater.

mother: marie babineaux

siblings: castor and pollux (half brothers), other children of dionysus

Fun Facts

personality type: infp - the mediator

character inspirations: wanda maximoff (marvel), katniss everdeen (hunger games), love quinn (you), riley (sense8) meg (hercules), and yuzuha shiba (tokyo revengers)

Biography

france is a country for arts and passion and the perfect place for dionysus. it was there that he met marie babineaux. she was a university student studying music, the cello was her instrument and as far as victorie was told that was what made him want her. marie always said she fell in love with him, that he was her soulmate.

to greek gods though there aren't soulmates, and when dionysus had to leave he left her heart broken and with their child, victorie.

it was how victorie grew up, watching her mother suffer from depression and mostly taking care of herself. she had to learn to take care of things long before she was ready. it was when she was around 10 that she was able to find a trick that worked on her mother.

all they had to do was touch her mothers face and think really hard about happiness and it worked, she was happy again. sometimes she was too happy and still forgot to do things for victorie but they were happy again and they wanted to have fun with her daughter. it was all she wanted. she was happy to have a mother who was lively and smiling.

when she was 14 she was taken away from her mother, when she was sent to a mental health facility and revealed to have schizophrenia and that medicine wasn't working well. something that seemed to come out of no where, no one expected it and there were no signs before she was taken.

france's system was one with issues that victorie hated it, they wanted her mother back. she wanted things to be normal again. she was moved from place to place because of the strange things that kept happening around her, no one really wanted to deal with it. the mood swings everyone around her seemed to have were too much.

it was always that, people not getting too close, changing places and never having a steady home. it changed when she turned 18, they were ready to head to university, debating on where to go when a woman showed up to speak with her. telling her the truth about her life, about her father.

she listened intently when the satyr woman spoke to her about the greek gods being real about everything they heard about from greek mythology being real. she would need to be in the states where she would be protected in a place for other demigods.

when they arrived, they waited and wanted to see who her father was, someone her mother had loved deeply, sure she would never meet the man, the gods distanced from their children, but she wanted to know who she could have loved so much. but when the man in charge looked at her, mr.d, shrugged and told everyone she was his daughter and walked away from her, rage grew.

this was the man who'd destroyed her mother's soul? the man had been her 'true love'. they thought it was a lie but when a centaur stopped her and told her who he was, she knew the truth. dionysus, the god of wine and the god of madness.

the strange things they'd been doing were from him. mood swings, the feelings of people around her. her mother. victorie had done that. they'd been the one to hurt their mother because of a god who didn't so much as look at her. these 'gifts' were a curse. he was a curse. a curse she saw every single day.

she decided to study psychology, she could try to help people who were hurtm, who were hurting and understand them. if she could understand them they could maybe help their mother one day

Now

it's laughable to her that zeus thinks she or any of her siblings could have the lightning bolt or want anything to do with it. if they wanted to hurt any of the gods it would be dionysus. even if it was zeus who kept him away from them, victorie for one didn't care.

Wanted connections

siblings!: victorie loves their siblings they always wanted a family and in her half siblings she's found it. maybe they don't like how she hates dionysus but they probably understand the pain and annoyance.

crush: give her someone to be crushing on hard, doesn't have to be end game it would be nice though. but they are afraid of actually caring about anyone because of what happened with her mother and dionysus.

literally anything at all

#dhqzintro #introduction | victorie

[ichayalovesyou]

To get your writing juices flowing: maybe Pike and the reader are both up late and have a chat about the stars?

Made with love for my friend and mutual @seismologically-silly

Two Insomniacs Stargazing (Platonic Pike x Reader)

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: 1.1k

Content: Platonic/SFW, GN!Reader, Cadet!Reader, existentialism, Carl Sagan quote (kinda), stargazing, second hand embarrassment(?), takes place not long after Lift Us Where Suffering Cannot Reach but w/ no spoilers!

Teaser: You stumble across Captain Pike half-awake in the mess hall during Delta shift, when the mess's lights are dimmed and the stars are at their starkest. More importantly at an ungodly hour where neither of you should be awake. This leads to an interesting conversation.

It was always darker in the mess hall during Delta shift. Something about conserving power, whatever the reason, you didn’t mind. While you didn’t expect to be nodding off anytime soon (as much as your body ached for it), bright light would only have prolonged the issue.

There were fringe benefits to being a night owl on a shift like this, the quiet, the relative calm, meeting people you may not have met while you were working, but none of that was the best part.

The best part was that the dim of the mess hall allowed the sky to light up like no where else on board. Tonight, wherever you were in the galaxy, it was astonishingly beautiful. The blues and purples and golds popping against the metallic red and white of the dining area. It made you almost completely forget everything that was bothering you. Almost.

It also made you forget the world around you as you side checked a table, practically leaping out your skin when a gruff yelp emitted from the adjacent booth.

You almost didn’t recognize him, he was in civvies (dare you say pajamas?) outside of the rumpled uniform jacket. His hair wasn’t following the Enterprise mission statement to reach toward the unknown with its usual zeal. Needless to say, you were mortified.

“Captain?!”

Thank god data pads were resistant to water, because his had spilled all over the table, and on his shirt. You knew this was probably not the first (or the last time) Captain Pike has had a subordinate spill something on him but it sure felt like the end of the universe at the moment.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry Sir! Agh, I wasn’t paying attention I was looking at the stars and ah-“

“Easy Cadet Y/N I don’t bite, I promise. Heh, lets get this cleaned up.”

He knew your name? Of course he did, he was the Captain, he knows everybody. Still, he’d met you maybe twice? Impressive, although, you didn’t mention it, he looked even more exhausted than you felt. Despite the unenviable fact that neither of you were passed out in your own quarters.

You heard rumors that the last mission had gone poorly. Diplomacy gone horribly wrong, people died, something about a kid, senior staff seemed a little more subdued than usual. You made an educated guess the Captain’s presence here had something to do with it.

“I know when I can’t sleep it’s hard to work in my office so I come out here. For a change of atmosphere and…”

“and to remind yourself why we’re out here?” Pike finished

Man. the eye contact was, a lot, but also comforting? His smile was really disarming too. Maybe it was because it’s late, but whoever said Captains are supposed to be cold and intimidating clearly never met this one. You felt yourself relax a little, apparently it was obvious enough for Captain Pike to chuckle.

“How did you know?” you managed

“I do the same thing.”

“But I haven’t seen you down here before, sir. Not this late anyway.”

“Captain’s quarters have a nice view, but this, this takes me back. I felt I could benefit from retracing my steps, look back instead of forward. It’s been a long mission.”

You could feel the weariness that went beyond the sleepless night in his voice at that last bit. It can’t easy on the top, you could see as much when the nostalgia dropped from Captain Pike’s expression and gave way to what you could only describe as guilt, and regret.

“I know a lot of people talk about what they see when they look out there. Like they can see home or a gaping pitiless vacuum. But, do you ever feel, like it’s looking back at you?”

“Well the universe is teaming with life.” Pike replied, cracking a smile, but you get the impression he didn’t take your full meaning.

“I just think it’s kind of selfish.”

The Captain turned to look at you curiously, feeling put on the spot, you continued.

“To think that you’re special, that the type of living thing you are, that the way you perceive the universe is special. That every species that can look up at the stars and comprehend what it sees is only looking for something only it can relate to. That it’s only worth looking beyond yourself if you can find a mirror.”

You’ve clearly piqued Pike’s interest at by point. you barely notice, but he’s facing you, hardly glancing at the window.

“Sagan tells us that we are the universe unto itself, we are not, separate, from the atoms that make us. The only thing separating us from that nebula over there is a chain of chemical reactions and what we perceive as linear time. When I look out there, I don’t see my reflection, it’s a deconstruction of life as we know it, it’s like the stars themselves are looking back at us. If we can understand the nature of the universe, and the universe appreciates the effort, maybe we can learn to love ourselves.”

Captain Pike nods, turning back to face the cosmos. Looking a bit dumbstruck, and, dare you say… comforted? Maybe not, you could see his brow knit with contemplation, but then you hear him mutter under his breath.

“Like making eye contact with God…”

“I’m sorry?”

“Something my father used to say whenever he discovered an element of his scientific research overlapped with our- with his, spiritual beliefs. That was very profound Cadet, thank you.”

His brow was still very furrowed, you were half worried you about to overstep.

“What do you believe Captain Pike?”

The Captain let out a deep sigh.

“…I’m not sure.”

You weren’t certain you believed him on that one. Yet the Captain seemed to have cast his contemplation aside when he turned to face you again.

“I do know one thing though.”

“What’s that?”

“You, Cadet Y/N, are an excellent addition to the Enterprise’s crew.”

“Thank you sir!”

“Don’t mention it, I guess I hadn’t realized how much I could use the company. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning, Captain.”

And just like that, he was gone, and you think you could safely say. Even if that was the first and last time you ever spoke with Captain Christopher Pike. The company, and the conversation, had been a memorable one.

Maybe the universe did love you back after all.

#reblogging with properly credited gifs because I was doing a dumbass and didn’t realize how gif credits on this site worked :/ #platonic x reader #captain pike x reader #captain pike #captain christopher pike #star trek #gn!reader #star trek strange new worlds #strange new worlds #snw #star trek snw #answering asks #lar trek #fanfiction #fanfic #writing excercise #pike drabbles