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konnorhasapen · 1 year

Text

I HAD AN IDEA AND NOW I AM EXERCISING THAT IDEA

ASSIGNING EACH LISTENER AN EXOTIC PET AND ALSO NAMING THAT PET

I think this may have turned into an oc thing💀

°•°•°•°•°

Lasko's listener: I just established the other day that they own an axolotl named Cella (that Freelancer is hellbent on calling "Celery" and Huxley loves her ((the axolotl))sm) and this is canon to me now. They also have a Chinese water dragon named Lotus bc I said so :)

Freelancer: do rats count as an exotic pet?? (Google says they do-) They named her Gribby. This is also canon to me.

Angel: they 100% have a sugar glider named Goblin (and David is terrified of him.) They want a fennec fox and they will get a fennec fox and they will name her Deedee. Short for Speed Demon.

Baabe: snake. They own a snake and they named her Rory and Asher loves her to death.

Sweetheart: chameleon. His name is Karma and he and Aggro are besties to the max.

Darlin': a fucking raccoon. Or a badger. Either one named Cujo.

Lovely: they own a bat named Valentina.

Bright Eyes: also owns a rat, but they didn't him Remi. They couldn't remember the rat's actual name so instead they ended up naming him fuckin Ratatouille💀

Starlight: albino ferret albino ferret albino ferret and she's named Carina :)

Seer Obscura: literally owns a barn owl named Tiresias.

Cutie: they have a couple mice they named Allen and Atlas.

Honey: iguana named Geechee, but he also responds to the name Bee for some odd, unknown reason (*cough* Guy-)

Warden: snake. Burmese python. I feel like they would want to name her, but wouldnt know what to name her, so they'd settle for Mesii (to base it slightly off "burmese")

Mentor/Baby: four ferrets. Four ferrets that are specifically named Inky, Blinky, Pinky, and Clyde.

Smartass: they have a bearded dragon named Ivy and she vibes with Aaron.

Sunshine: they have chinchilla siblings named Nimbus and Nebula :3

Anton's listener: they have 2 tree frogs named Mika and Aivo, and a chinchilla named Seria (I like my chinchillas, okay?? I've always wanted one-)

James' listener: hedgehog named Morose and he's the cutest little baby James has ever laid his eyes on.

Asset: they found a mouse in the vents one time and they've kept it ever since. They named her Thias. They like to show Thias to Anton. Anton likes to see Thias(Thias reminds him of Seria). They have also introduced Thias to Brian. Brian also likes Thias. Most of the people working with/on Asset know Thias.

Precious: they aren't allowed to own a pet. Because owning a pet means giving their love and affection and attention to someone other than Regulus.

°•°•°•°•°

Bonus Bits!

Damien: ...Freelancer, I think you have rats.

FL: huh?? Oh, no, that's just Gribby.

Damien: *petting Gribby* who names a pet "Gribby"?

FL: I do. Oh- don't touch her left back leg.

Damien: why? Is she hurt?

FL: I got her checked out first few times it happened, but they said nothin' was wrong.

Damien: then why..?

FL: she just starts screaming.

Damien: what.

☆

David: Angel, I'm—

Goblin, who escaped his habitat: *zooms up the fridge and soars straight towards David, landing on his face and getting comfy on his head*

Angel: Goblin, where'd you go!? Oh! Aww! He loves you!

David: *frozen with fear*

☆

Sam: Darlin'?

Darlin': hm?

Sam: why's there a raccoon/badger on your kitchen counter?

Darlin': that's Cujo.

Sam: ...Cujo was-

Darlin': "mEhMeHmEhMeH cUjO wAs a dOg tHoUgH" let me name my trash panda/rage skunk whatever tf I want.

☆

Vincent: you got a pet bat?

Lovely: yeah! I wanted to name her Vincent as well, but then I thought you might get confused, so I went with Valentina instead! ^-^

Vincent: *teary-eyed* you wanted to name her after me??

Vincent: ...wait- you thought I'd get confused-

☆

Vincent: did you buy a rat?

Bright: I found it in the trash can and he's mine now.

Vincent: o..kay. Does he have a name?

Bright: um, duh. Anyone who owns a rat and doesn't name it Ratatouille is committing an actual crime against humanity.

Vincent: ...hold on.., wasn't the... wasnt the rat's name Remi?

Bright: ...

Vincent: ... I-

Bright: y'know what Vincent?

Vincent: wha-

Bright: shut the fuck up.

☆

Chat: you have a pet!??

Honey: yeah *fetches Geechee from his habitat* His name's Geechee

Chat: YOU HAVE A PET LIZARD!?!?

Honey: iguana*. Anyway, this is Geechee, but I've noticed he also responds to the name "Bee" and I have some speculations as to why that is.

Guy, in chat: I haven't the slightest clue what you could possibly be talking about.

☆

Baby: I found these poor little guys in a box thrown in a trash can.

Ollie: OHMYGOD CAN WE KEEP THEM? HAVE YOU NAMED THEM SO WE CAN KEEP THEM??

Baby: yes, we're keeping them and no, I haven't named them yet.

Ollie: ..suggestion?

Baby: I suppose.

Ollie, immediately: Inky Blinky Pinky and Clyde!

Baby: *sigh* goddamnit, those are gold.

Ollie: Inky Blinky Pinky and Clyde?

Baby: *nods* Inky Blinky Pinky and Clyde.

Ollie: YES!

☆

Asset: hi Marcus!

Marcus: jEsus chRIst- you scared me half to-...

Marcus: what do you have?

Asset: I found someone!

Marcus: you... found someone..?

Asset: *opens their hands to show a petite lil mousey* I've decided to name her.

Marcus: oh- y-yeah? And.. what did you...name her..?

Asset: Thias!

—

Asset: good evening, Anton.

Anton: good evening

Asset: Thias says hello, too!

Anton, with a tired but genuine smile: hello and good evening to you as well, Thias.

°•°•°•°•°

This was fun. I had much fun. This was so much fun :3

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rwby-encrusted-blog · 1 year

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Ok so I learned on a show that dolphins are basically dicks and bully other fishes. My question is did Jaune ever have a problem with them?

INSPIRATION HAS STRUCK! (and I also did a post about that)

Jaune is out in Vale with Ciel. Their having a nice time until ...

???: WELL WELL WELL! If it isn't our favorite little Sand-Shark!

Jaune: Oh God.

Twelve imposing figures of Several Dolphin Faunus, the leader seemingly an Orca, Stand behind our lovely set of Marine Faunus.

Ciel: Jaune, are you alright? Who are these People?

Jaune: Ugh, a soccer team from Home. A bunch of jerks. The big guy's name Orkinus Salaco.

Orkinus: Aw, C'mon Jauney! It's been, what, A year and a Half!

Orkinus: And You ain't got your Sisters to protect you now!

Ciel: Excuse me, I am Ciel Soleil, Jaune's romantic Partner, And I would appreciate us if you left alone. Any quarrels you have with him, kindly Stuff up your ass until a later date.

Orkinus: Oh, some mighty big words from someone so small. You look and smell like an Atlesian.

Ciel: I am. What about it?

Jaune: Ciel, Honey, let's just leave! They'll get bored if we ignore them!

Orkinus: Maybe you should listen to your waste of space Boy-Toy. You Sky-City Pricks only pick up Faunus for social points.

Ciel: ... Excuse me?

Jaune: Oh You Shouldn't have said that.

Ciel: You realize that there are Faunus in Atlas, yes? That I'm one?

Orkinus: Oh really? What kind?

Ciel: Fittingly to my name, a Seal.

Jaune: Orkinus, really, I suggest you leave!

Orkinus: Can it Janet! Alrighty then! You must be pretty Stupid to not realize how fights between Orcas and Seals go in the wild! *He flicks Her beret off of her head.*

Jaune: ... Orkinus?

Orkinus: What daffodil!

Jaune: If you were a nicer person I'd say I'm sorry for whats about to happen.

Ciel picked her hat off the ground, dusting it off gently, and returning it to it's place on her head as she began removing her gloves.

Ciel: Before I do what I plan on doing, I will tell you your mistakes.

Ciel: One. You Disrupted my schedule.

Ciel: Two. You insulted My Boyfriend and I.

Ciel: Three. You've forgotten we aren't in Nature.

Ciel slashed her claws against his face, Furred arms and partially webbed fingers on full display. A Rocket Locker slammed into the ground between Her and the Prick. She pulled out her weapon, a large Flame thrower-esque contraption, with several moderately sized Dust containers of various colors.

Setting a gauge to Gravity dust, a dark cloud of weightless vapor pooling around the bully, causing him to float.

Spinning, Ciel Switched the Weapon into a Hammer form, knocking Orkinus into a build across the street. It collapsed into a Full Arm gauntlet with a nasty looking Drill on the end, Revving it to intimidate the remaining jerks.

Ciel: His fourth and Final mistake was deciding not to run!

Ciel: Don't Make the Same Mistake.

The Remaining Dolphins ran like their live depended on it.

Jaune: Well. Now we have Paperwork to fill out as for why the Locker was launched.

Ciel: I'm well aware. You'll help me won't you~

Jaune: Yeah. Of course I will.

Orcas also fuck with Seals and Sea Lions, and are dolphins despite the name "Killer Whale."

I'm glad I Wrote (Sh)Arc en Seal before this. Ciel is also a Non-Character, and therefore free real estate.

#rwby #jaune arc #ciel soleil #arc en ciel #shark!faunus jaune #seal!faunus ciel #asks and answers #rwby shitpost #also yes the Bullies are a Dndaddies reference #paybackcity1

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samantha-and-her-chaotic-desires · 7 months

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BELOW THE SURFACE: CHAPTER THREE: Complicated Conversations

Below the Surface: A 2023 Lackadaisy Fanfiction...now posted here, there, and NOW on Tumblr. Enjoy!

--"A conversation is a dialogue, not a monologue. That's why there are so few good conversations: due to scarcity, two intelligent talkers seldom meet." - Truman Capote--

"His voice means to deceive you...my voice just wants to lead you...Below the Surface."

-🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹-

“...this really isn’t a good time, honey...there’s been another murder.”

Rocky’s usual smile dropped at Mitzi’s words, his eyes wide with concern. Ivy gripped onto Freckle’s hand for support and her ever growing anxiety. Freckle’s eyes were dulled, as he prayed silently, over and over…and Mitzi was right: there was yet another unfortunate soul killed in the darkest corner of Lackadaisy. They all sat at the bar, discussing the unfortunate events.

“...another?” Rocky broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Wh–when? When did this…” Freckle trailed off.

“It happened sometime when we were asleep, I guess.” Ivy chimed in. Her ears flattened, and she glanced in between the other patrons.

“These aren't the…best circumstances that have befallen us.” Wick gripped his cup of rum. He blinked once, twice, then fully turned towards Zib, as the other squeezed his shoulder as a sign of comfort. Though his yellow eyes showed uncertainty, even worry.

“Who would even do something like this?” Ivy hid the urge to grimace, so she pursed her lips tightly.

“I have good idea who vanted this to happen…” Viktor growled out, slowly cleaning a shot glass, his grip being rough. Anger showed in his eyes, and eventually he broke the glass, a shattering ringing throughout everyone’s ears.

“Viktor…I warned you about handling glass.” Mitzi bit back a groan.

“Isn’t he implying that the ones behind the murder are Marigold?” Zib pulled out the cigarette from his mouth. “Specifically…” He waved his hand a bit in a gesturing motion.

“Mordecai?” Ivy caught on. She flinched at the sudden growling of Viktor, and another shot glass shattering and cracking. She stared at him, wide–eyed, shrinking back.

“Viktor!” Mitzi exclaimed.

“It could be…but the last time we really saw him was, well…the run–in, and the dynamite.” Freckle brought up.

“Which you, for a matter of fact, still need to explain what happened,” Wick cut in.

“We’d rather not…” Freckle’s ears flicked back.

“There’s gonna need to be an explanation for all of this later, though.” Zib pinched the bridge of his nose. Mitzi frowned, rubbing her temples now…she left the others to discuss the dynamite incident, known as the last run–in they had with the Marigold Trio. She really needed some alone time…so she left to go to her husband’s office, and looked at the painting of Atlas, still hung on the wall, looking good as new. She gripped her necklace gently, taking in a breath and closing her eyes, going deep into thought…that was until the ringing phone snapped her out of her thoughts. She slowly turned and walked towards it, fluffing up her boa as she sighed answering it…she hadn’t known he would be calling…

****

“Mitzi…we have a problem.”

Mitzi blinked: Mr. Sweet’s voice caught her completely off guard. Her ear flicked, and she gripped the phone.

“It’s happening to you too?” She fiddled with her necklace, twisting it gently, nervously. The words came out of her mouth before she could properly register it. “All the murders?” She lowered her voice.

Mr Sweet chewed on his bottom lip, looking towards the Marigold Trio. Mordecai looked deep in thought, Serafine was rambling on in concern and confusion about everything, and Nico was replying to her comments, still rather confused on what’s happening. The siblings noticed Mordecai’s ears flick up, after hearing Mitzi’s name. Mr. Sweet continued,

“Yes…and we don’t know who is responsible…but it knocked the wind out of Mordecai and the Savoys.”

Mordecai growled, ears flattening on his head: he didn’t get the ‘wind knocked out of him’, nor did he want Mitzi of all people to hear that…he was just squeamish in certain aspects, and that murder…he was getting out of his head when he felt a squeeze on his shoulder, and he begrudgingly eased.

“Is there anything we can do? We can’t just let these things go out of control..!”

Mr. Sweet tapped his fingers on his desk. Mordecai watched him expectantly with the Savoy siblings. “...we may need to do the unexpected, my dear.”

Mitzi froze up, ears flicking. “...what do you have in mind?”

“The little trio you have…working with mine.”

Mordecai’s tail fluffed up, eyes narrowing, letting out a small growl. Serafine chuckled, shaking her head. She nudged his shoulder.

“Ya heard dat, Peekon? We get to see de lil trio we ran into a week ago.” She teased.

“Mmm, I tink he ain’t so excited about it, sis.” Nico smirked. Mordecai rolled his eyes, standing and walking over to Mr.. Sweet. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mr. Sweet silenced him by holding a hand up.

“Things will certainly be interestin’ with Mordecai back in the mix…” Mitzi stared at Atlas’s old desk, seeing the New Year’s of 1926, framed in a photo. She smiled slightly, fondly, gripping her necklace again. “...mmm. If it’s a yes from Rocky, Ivy and Freckle, we’ll meet tomorrow. Little Daisy Café, in the morning…but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Be careful running the business, Mitzi…things can crumble if taken too far.” Mr. Sweet spoke it as a farewell, but meant it as a warning. Mitzi hung up, and Mr. Sweet turned towards the Marigold Trio. “Well, you three are going to—”

“—figure out who or what is behind this debacle? With that little…posse?” Mordecai spoke, his tones laced with disdain.

“Now Mordecai: I know you aren’t too fond of them…but just this one time, you need to work with them.” Mr. Sweet clapped his shoulder, giving him a knowing gaze. Mordecai scowled, brows furrowing. However, he took a deep breath and nodded.

“...yes sir. We’ll do as we're told.” He remained professional, when in reality he wanted to ram his fist into the drywall. Lackadaisy, of all the people? Memories weren’t doing him kindly. They never did, anymore. Mr. Sweet then gestured for them to leave, and Serafine and Nico did. Mordecai watched as they shut the door behind him.

“Son…I know this is rough.”

Rather surprising, coming from him. Mordecai raised a brow.

“I haven’t a clue what—”

“Cut the crap. Look at me.”

A sudden outburst, but whatever. It certainly caught Mordecai’s attention. He stared into his eyes, feeling the weight of his boss’s hands on his shoulders. Mr. Sweet leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing slightly, a stern look now hardening on his features. Finally, he lowered his voice,

“I know exactly why you’re here.”

“Pardon?”

“In Marigold. Don’t lie to me now.”

“I can assure you sir, that—“ Mordecai let out a small noise of shock, feeling the gentle squeezing of his shoulders.

“You’re here ‘cause of solving the damn murder of dear ole Atlas May…aren’t you?”

Mordecai’s blood went cold, his tail fluffing up. His facial expression remained nonchalant, but his tail was a dead giveaway.

“Of course, back when we met Mitzi for lunch and told her Atlas was goin’ over his head, you gave me that old look of yours.” Asa explained. “I’ve known this whole time, Mordecai.”

“I…I’m at a loss for words.” Mordecai faltered. His ear flicked. Was he not discreet enough? Not careful enough? His head was filled with multiple questions at once. But mainly, he was just scolding himself. Why hadn’t he—

“You aren’t going to find anything useful here.” Mr. Sweet then took a seat, lighting one last cigar and intaking the smoke. “You’re too brazen for your own good, son. Now, I want you and the Savoys to meet at the Little Daisy Café tomorrow.”

Mordecai raised a brow, but didn’t question anything. A bubbling hatred began to rise to the surface. He didn’t remember the orange cat…what was his name again? Frisky? Ah, Freckle…Ivy just brings too much pain for Mordecai, he can’t bear to look her in the eyes…then, there was Roark. Rocky Rickaby, a damn psychopath. Though the thought of him brought a sense of familiarity, a sense of comfort…

He silently chuckled at the recollection of playing Waffle’s Advocate. He will admit: he did miss that rambunctious ragamuffin…though he didn’t miss how messy Rocky was with pancakes and syrup.

Finally, he replied with a dejected sigh: “...fine.”

“Good.” Mr. Sweet grinned. “Now you can be off…I understand how shaken up you must be.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Sweet,” Mordecai pulled away, “I am not ‘shaken up’.”

“You don’t need to keep this up.” Mr. Sweet began sternly. “...sleep on it. Then come back here in the morning.”

Mordecai then turned on his heel to leave. The body plagued his memory. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he ran his hands through the top of his head to slick back his hair. He treaded carefully, quietly, and his breathing became slower. He seemed collected, but he didn’t want to show the pure annoyance he felt. God, this was going to give him one hell of a migraine…

-🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹🌼🏵️🌹-

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howlingday · 2 years

Text

Yang: What's up, everybody? My name is Yang Xiao Long and I am your host tonight of Light Me Up, where we have some sexy singles looking for a match to light! Don't worry, we'll let you know when it gets too hot. Now, introducing our contestant tonight, Jaune Arc is a 20 year old sensitive sort from Ansel, whose hobbies include practicing HEMA, which is some kind of knight larp thing, and practicing on his guitar. How you feeling tonight, Jaune?

Jaune: Uh, pretty good. I'd just like to shout out to my friends and family watching at home. Hey, guys!

Mama Arc: Oh, there he is! Hello, honey!

Papa Arc: (Chuckles) And you said this was a bad idea.

Yang: Well, Jaune, if you don't mind me asking, why are you still single? You seem pretty handsome.

Jaune: Well, I guess I'm a little shy, and I'm just waiting for the right girl.

Yang: Ah, to be 22 again.

Jaune: Aren't you also 20?

Yang: And you just might meet that special someone tonight! Here are our lucky bachelorettes! Contestant number one's name is Pyrrha! Pyrrha is an athlete from Argus, who's hobbies include dancing and working out at the gym. Say hi, Pyrrha!

Pyrrha: Hello!

Yang: Our next lucky lady is Weiss is a 20 year old performer from Atlas, and her hobbies include singing, reading, and quiet thinking. Pretty chilly up there, eh, Weiss?

Weiss: Indeed.

Yang: I'll bet, I'll bet! And last, but not least is Ruby, our final bachelorette, an 18 year old Patch gunsmith whose hobbies include marksmanship, gun-cleaning, and reading romance novels. Ruby, how you liking Vale?

Ruby: (Nervous) Blue. Wait, no, uh-

Yang: Alright, now let's start the game! Jaune, we've given you a stack of index cards with questions for you to ask these lovely maidens. Go ahead and start whenever you're ready.

Jaune: Uh, okay... Bachelorette number one, if you were a hammer, how would I use you?

Pyrrha: Hm... You could... use me to fuck yourself. Like, really fuck the shit out of you. Just take me out of your toolbox, and use me fuck you. Like, all night long. I want to fuck you so hard.

Jaune: (Wide-eyed, Audience oohs)

Yang: Ooh, spicy~!

Mama Arc: ...What did she say?

Papa Arc: I retract my previous statement.

Yang: Bachelorette number two, same question!

Weiss: Hm, if I were a hammer? Well, I would be a high quality sort of hammer, so my answer is I want you to rail me hard from behind. Just bend me over and pound my slutty holes until you're spent with no regard for my well-being. Then maybe just shove your cock down my throat for good measure.

Jaune: (Blushing hard, Covers his mouth)

Yang: (Audience oohs, Chuckles) Looks like things are really heating up! So, Jaune, what do you think about that?

Jaune: I... I don't know.

Yang: Well, let's change things up a bit. Go ahead and read the next question for bachelorette number three.

Jaune: (Gulps, Exhales) Bachelorette number three, I'm a really big fan of soccer. If I won a game, where would you take me?

Ruby: ...I want to choke myself on your cock. I want you to just grab my face and fuck it until you unload everything down my throat.

Yang: Fantastic, Ruby! Just fantastic! Okay, Jaune; new question for number one.

Jaune: Bachelorette number one, I am very cautious about bringing girls home to Mom. Tell me, how would you introduce yourself to my mother?

Mama Arc: Those girls are not setting one foot inside this house.

Papa: Dear, please don't sit so close to the TV.

Pyrrha: I just want to rip your pants off and ride you inside my ass. Up the stairs. Down the stairs. In the garage. Everywhere, inside my asshole. I want the entire house to smell of our sweat, cum, and the nasty shit that comes out of my destroyed rectum.

Yang: Whoa! Look out! Bachelorette number two, same question.

Weiss: Meeting with your mother is an incredibly big step in a relationship, so careful thought is required for this task. That said, I want to drown you in my pussy juice. Just smother your breathing with my sopping wet cunt juices while you tongue punch me until I'm hoarse from screaming, and you shit from cumming so hard.

Yang: Haha! What a crazy selection we have here tonight! Jaune, let's roll in a new question for number three.

Jaune: (Huffs) Bachelorette number three, without talking about sex, what would we have in common?

Ruby: Please fuck me! I will pay you whatever you want! I am so fucking horny, this seat is already ruined from my wetness. And that goes for the audience, too! If anyone is interested, I will pay you money for you to fuck me, and fuck me hard!

Yang: (Audience cheers, Laughs)

#rwby #yang xiao long #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #weiss schnee #ruby rose #papa arc #mama arc #whitest kids u know #rwby smut

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khaleesiofalicante · 1 year

Note

OKAY OMG I AM EXCITED

IS KINCAID VICTORIA AND KYLE'S CHILD??

WHAT IS TOMORROW??

so the epilogue definitely takes place in the future

IS THE MS LOVELACE GIGI???

MY GIGI

HOW MANY YEARS HAS IT BEEN OMG

she was 17 last we saw

okay I doubt gigi would be like this with vic and kyle's child

IT'S FUCKING ABBY

HOW MANY FUCKING YEARS HAS IT BEEN

WHAT IS GOING ON

LEMME MATH

abby is 2 right? in IV

so it has been 21 years

omg

OMG THE GANG'S CHILDREN

GIGI HAD KIDS??

OMG ATLAS

THIS STORY WILL BE ABOUT THE GANG'S CHILDREN WON'T IT

crying

GIGI HAS A UNESCO MEETING TODAY

LOOK AT HER GO

A FUCKING ROBOT

whose kid is this

I have circlled back to be vic and kyle theroy

LEXI AND OLIVIA'S CHILD?????????

the shadow world has changed so much fuck

why doesn't joan like him though

There were rumors that the New York Institute was the home of all dark magic, a place shadowhunters avoided by all means.

damn you people move on fast

FAIRCHILD

SELENA'S KID

YES

OH MY GOD PLANT POWERS

what did Kincaid do though

OHHH THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T BEEN NICE TILL NOW ARE THE GANG'S CHILDREN

except abby

sigh

what'd you do kid

OH MY GOD MALIK IS AMIRA'S KID

HHEHEHEHEHHEHE

the fuck is tomorrow

“Do not antagonize the Lightwood-Banes,” Ragnor Fell told him. “It never ends well.”

hi hello WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN

MAGNUSSSSS

okay Kincaid what is it that you're doing

WHOSE CEREMONY WHAT IS HAPPENING I AM SO CONFUSED PLEASE GIVE ME A GUIDE

omg

OH MY GOD

is this about Anjali and Rafe's kids?

but the current inquisitor is Achilles yes?

HEIR TO WHAT NOW

rafe>>>>>

okay who is They

OMG IT IS HIS DAUGHTER AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

she is consul-in-training I will now go cry

who and what is a theia

oh nvm It's a who she was mentioned earlier too WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME

oh there's a boy!! Hiiii

what is going on here bwteen cam and kincaid 👀

HERE'S THE OTHER ONE!

THEIAAA

there was no file for theia...interesting

ALEC OH MY GOD IT'S ALEC

Kincaid honey it's Lightwood-Bane

okay genuienly what did this boy do

OH MY GOD I AM SO DUMB I THOUGHT CAMILA AND THEIA WERE SISTERS

RIGHT INQUISITOR'S KID. ACHILLES' KID

who are y'all waiting for

WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE HIM PLEASE I NEED ANSWERS

WHAT DID RAGNOR MEAN

oh my god is this literally about David and his family walking into the room what the fuck

MAX!

it's been 20 years people! GET OVER IT

DAVID YESSSS

why is there three of them though

WHERE IS LANCE

What the hell do you mean by the Kincaid

so he's the Crimson King or whatever

what is going on

ah so is this why everyone hates him? the crimson king nonsense?

IT'S HIS BIRTHDAY TOMORROW? THAT'S IT???

oh is it like that his powers will get triggered when he's certain age?

IS LANCE THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS

HE FUCKING IS

oh my god holy shit what the fuck

How did they find out though

GOD THIS IS HURTING ME THS MUST HAVE BEEN SO PAINFUL FOR DAVID

oooo who's the boyyyy

ARTHUR????

oh this just got very very interesting oooooo

I LOVE FORBIDDEN ROMANCE SO MUCH. ADD GAY TO IT AND IT'S MY FAVORITE THING EVER

oh but how could we ever be together? you are destined to kill my brother and I am an exile whose family is shunned by the rest of your kind. (HE HAS CRIMSON KING VIBES)

Arthur, who was in Exile and ever the curious, had run to Idris. Kincaid, who was tired and terrified, had tried to run away from it.

They had met in the middle. They had fallen in love.

THEM>>>>>

I COULD READ AN ENTIRE BOOK ON JUST THEM

But technically they never mentioned anything about Arthur.

So. Fair game.

love this

the fuck is he doing tomorrow?

He didn’t want to be underwater. He didn’t want to get dragged down.

foreshadowing

oh my god that is lowkey kinda cool how the demons reacted

I love lance so much

oh the woman died :(

oh nooooo NOOOOOO

FUCK YOUR HETERONORMALCY

mal is dead you guys

oh fuck it is THE SWORD

it has a feather. fuck

OH NOOOO THE NAME

ugh

YUP IT IS VICTORIA AND KYLE

Mallory really hanuting us 20 years later huh

how many people know that he is the Crimson King?

y'all know prophecies have several meanings right?

SO LIKE! HAPPY ENDING YES

I am too optimistic for this

holy shit

FUCKING HELL

KINCAID IS SO ANGSTY I LOVE IT

i am hungry I am gonna find some food

BUT DAMN THIS HAS BEEN A RIDE

Omg reading this was SOOOO MUCH fun thank you so much I love listening to your thoughts 😂😂😂

Also this is SOOO Rafael (he has like a whole series on tiktok and I’m obsessed with it)

#lbaf

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waheelawhisperer · 1 year

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I dig V7!Yang's bomber jacket and could *generally* roll with the coveralls, but that Vernal-callback garter & pokey-looking belt buckle still make me wanna mash the equivalent of a button keeping Meowth from evolving to Persian. Yeah, yeah, asymmetry, but there's plenty of that with her mitts & Blake-kerchief. Speaking of, that catsuit really did need a zipper around the midsection, not on every other edge of her coat.

Okay I guess it's time to finally explain why the Atlas outfits fucking bother me so much

Putting it under the cut so people who don't want to read criticism don't have to

I'll go into detail about the little things in a second, but the main issue I have is that they just do not make sense for fieldwork in the cold. Yeah, I know it's anime, I don't expect perfectly practical outfits at all times, but the series explicitly emphasizes the danger of the Solitas cold, so it bugs me that the outfits the characters wear, including the trained and experienced Atlesian Huntsmen (ffs Clover where are your sleeves), do not reflect the debilitating effects of being unprotected against the elements. If the threat of the cold wasn't specifically a plot point, I'd be more willing to handwave the outfits not being good at protecting against it and just assume Aura limited the effects of the temperature or something, but that's not the case. The way they actually set things up just makes the characters look stupid.

If you want to argue that a lot of the Atlas Volumes take place in Atlas/Mantle, which is temperature-controlled and thus they don't need heavy protective clothing, then fine, but that doesn't change the fact that Team RWBY and their allies are regularly participating in operations outside that safe zone. I imagine it would take extra modeling/rigging and so on, but you can solve the problem well enough by giving them jackets or something to throw on once they leave the safety of the city and it's artificial heating. Either that or just don't make the cold a goddamn issue in the first place. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing the show has asked us to accept, and the rules surrounding Aura are vague enough that they could easily explain it away.

Anyway, I'll cover the outfits on an individual level now. Let's start with Yang and go in reverse order.

I gotta say, Yang is the type of woman who could look good in a burlap sack, so it's amazing to me that I've never really been a fan of any of her canon outfits. I've always found the shades of brown the character designers love to stick her into be pretty drab and dull, especially since they changed the color of her hair from the brighter gold it used to be to the honey-blonde it is now. Really wish they'd made more use of her color (yellow), she's the brightest of the bunch and needs something to make her pop. I would ascend straight to heaven if they gave her Blake's colors, too - let her have some more purple or black in her outfits.

Anyway, I wouldn't even think this is a bad outfit for Yang if not for the context. It's not amazing, but it fits what's established as her style, and I just love women in pants and jackets. The problem is that she's wearing this outfit in Solitas. This outfit has a fucking thigh window in sub-freezing temperatures, temperatures already established to be deadly by the narrative. I can begrudgingly accept the cleavage, both because showing cleavage is kind of Yang's thing and something the people designing her looks have made an essential part of her aesthetic and because Yang's boobies are very important to me, but the thigh window breaks my suspension of disbelief (to be honest, I wouldn't have even minded if they had covered up the tiddy (shocking, I know). There are plenty of ways to remind us Yang's a bombshell without showing lots of skin). This outfit would've been fine in Vale or Anima tbh even if the thigh window still just fundamentally looks dumb to me.

Blake's outfit just sucks. It's the worst of the bunch. Between the dumb boob socks, the zippers that do literally fucking nothing, and the way she has to wear an adult diaper into combat, this is just so ass. She looks like she ripped off a Square Enix character or something. You're not in a JRPG, honey, wear something that makes sense.

This is so disappointing after her amazing Mistral outfit.

Also, I don't like the short hair at all, but that's more of a personal preference thing. Please let her grow it out again. Please.

I don't mind Weiss's outfit too much besides the stupid fucking belts, if we're being honest. It's not really practical for cold-weather operations, but it's good enough by the standards of anime outfits in general and this series in particular. Not a fan of the little boob window since they're in Solitas, but I can accept it because I've known people who wear shorts in sub-freezing temperatures and Weiss is a native of Atlas. I'm willing to handwave her lack of protective clothing based on the fact that she grew up in this environment and is thus likely to be more used to the cold.

Also, I don't know how her hair suddenly doubled in volume to create that monstrosity of a braid, but whatever. I think she actually looks pretty cute with the new bangs.

Ruby's is my favorite overall. It's not truly cold-weather gear, but it's not so egregiously unsuitable for the environment that it breaks my suspension of disbelief. She manages to look like she's growing up without showing off skin, the new hairstyle is nice, and there's nothing about her Atlas look that really makes me go "ugh, why?", unlike any of her teammates.

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long

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oficmag · 2 years

Text

Contributor Spotlight: Mimi

Now that Issue #1 is live, we at OFIC Mag are excited to shine a light on some of the amazing contributors from our inaugural issue. We hope you all love them as much as we do!

Today’s spotlight is on Mimi | @pcandaa, who wrote “i want to get away (you make me want to stay)” for Issue #1.

Tell us a bit about yourself!

Wow. Head empty no thoughts. Why is this question so hard?

By day I work in gender justice (the field that kid-me said I would never enter), and by night I write sapphic and other kinds of queer fiction, mostly romances, but I've been trying to craft a thriller lately, and it's been interesting. Aside from writing, I like playing boardgames with my friends weekly, trying to convince my knees that I can run cross country again like I used to, and listening to history podcasts. I also do art when I have more than two seconds to spare, and I'm still gunning towards being exhibited someday.

How did you find fandom?

Through Harry Potter, in 2006. I used to lurk on a website called harrypotterfanfiction.com (which afaik is being imported into AO3 now). Then I discovered fanfic.net, and then later AO3.

I started posting fanfic on AO3 for Jane the Virgin in 2016, and wrote fics for All For One (the webseries—go check it out it's cool!) and some other small, niche fandoms.

What fandom are you in now and what brought you here?

I currently almost exclusively read Supercorp fanfic and do very little else, and I hate to say it, but racism brought me here—I adore Avatar: The Last Airbender and Legend of Korra, but fandom is never really a safe space for fans of colour, and the casual racism implicit in many LoK fics threw me off and stopped me from being able to read most fanfic for it.

I wanted to continue reading decent femslash, but without having to deal with the racism, hence my pivot to a fandom with two white women placed front and centre. I don't watch Supergirl and never intend to, but I've found several amazing AUs that I've enjoyed deeply over the years, though I'll always wish we had the same energy for non-white characters.

My experience with ATLA and LoK threw me off participating too deeply in fandom in general, especially for shows with women of colour, so I lurk and enjoy fanart and not much else.

What’s your favorite book of all time and what do you love about it?

I don't think I have a singular favourite book of all time, but a few highlights over the past couple of years would be:

The Sea and Stars Trilogy by SD Simper: Absolutely sizzling chemistry between the leads of the likes I have rarely read before. Plot is also gripping AF. SD Simper can really tell a story.

Gideon the Ninth by Tasmyn Muir: Gideon is possibly my favourite protagonist ever, she's hilarious and mouthy and butch and unabashedly loves women—I want more characters like her!

The Red Country by jilbrais (Ao3): A stunning prequel to Alice in Wonderland with a gutwrenching story between the Queen of Hearts and the Red Queen—I'd highly recommend it, the prose is beautiful and the story is incredible.

Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers: That book was written for me, about me, and that is all I have to say about that. More books about black girls that include whimsy and dreams and the agonising reality of unrealised dreams please! I would absolutely read anything else Morgan Rogers writes.

I also really enjoy Jenny Frame's romance novels, she writes in a way that is so earnest and honest, and she handles narratives of grief and loss extremely well. She's also really good and amping up chemistry between her leads, and of course, each of her books has a butch lead in it, which I absolutely adore.

What projects are you working on right now?

I had a whole thing planned to write more fiction this year and I've since been swamped with research projects and prepping a chapter of my thesis for publication. Some Real World Stuff right there bleargh. Ideally I'd be working on the following original fiction projects:

See Me In Hindsight: A sapphic Ocean's 11 retelling. Featuring cheek and chaos and some family drama thrown in for fun.

Tightrope: A woman waits for her spouse to return, only to find that they've brought their dead twin's mistress to the house. The two women tiptoe around each other, each believing the other to be the enemy, but the true enemy in the house is not who they think.

Untitled Spite Novel: In 2011, a 16-year old is overwhelmed by academic pressure and confides in her teacher. As they begin to grow closer as mentor and mentee, and eventually into something less and less appropriate, the girl is plagued by visions of violence, and the unyielding spectre of a woman with no face.

Untitled Supernatural Romance: Mehreen Kazi is one of the most powerful vampires in Osower and the High Princess of the Osower Council, but she's broken one of the cardinal tenets of the city: no sex with the humans you feed on. But she can't let the girl go, even though she doesn't know who she is and hasn't seen her face, because the dampners at the feeding house prevent her from doing so. Aisha Isa is a mage who's been searching for the secret to immortality, and finds a temp job PA-ing for Mehreen Kazi, who might have the answer she's been looking for. In the meantime, she's part-timing as a feeder for a high-profile mystery client who's broken one of the city's cardinal rules with her, but Aisha's already too hooked on her to care. As the two of them bicker and clash against each other during the day, unknowingly loving each other at night, Mehreen's sister Mira lurks in the background, waiting for just the right moment to see her fall.

What are your aspirations as a writer, big picture or small?

To experiment with different genres and improve my prose style. I'd love to get published one day, indie or big house doesn't matter, and as a writer based outside the Global North, I know my odds are absolutely stacked against me! But I also want to continue to find joy in creating stories and learning to craft them better and better (and I really, really want Untitled Spite Novel out in the world someday).

If you could give one piece of advice to beginning writers, what would you tell them?

Write what you like! Write badly! I made this mistake as a young writer because I was too much of a perfectionist to write as often as I needed to. It wasn't till I was in my early 20s that I actually learned to tell a good story because I was writing pretty much anything that came to mind, whether it was good or not, whether I completed it or not.

The more you write, the more you'll understand your own process, the more you'll learn about what to do and what not to do, and the kind of stories that matter to you. Don't think that your stories don't matter just because you don't see other people telling them. They will always matter. Always remember that.

THANK YOU FOR BEING A PART OF THE OFIC FAMILY, MIMI! WE’RE SO THRILLED TO SHARE YOUR WORK WITH THE WORLD.

#bookblr #writeblr #spotlight #issue 1

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goldenholi · 10 months

Text

THE NAIVARA PROJECT, CHAPTER 9

Title TBD

INDEX

Read it on Ao3

Dawn crept over the horizon, lightening the dark room. Naivara flipped onto her side, burying herself under plush covers. Several things became apparent to her at once:

1) The bed didn’t smell like home. This prompted her to open her eyes and she saw...

2) Lillimae, seated at her bedside.

3) The clothing she wore? Not hers. Fabric was wrong.

She threw the blanket over herself, and discovered she was wearing a simple, long-sleeved night gown. It was soft but lacked stretch around her shoulders.

“Naivara?” Lillimae asked. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright?”

“Stupid question. Sorry.”

After a short silence, she said: “You don’t have to hide under there.”

“No, no,” Naivara said. “I’m staying under here, actually.”

Lillimae was silent.

“That’s okay,” she said. For a long while, Naivara laid curled against a pillow, trying to calm her nerves.

“What happened?” Lillimae asked.

“Why do you care?” Naivara asked. “We were friends.”

“Oh don’t get hung up on that. It’s the truth. We haven’t talked in years.”

“I don’t get it,” Naivara said. “I thought you hated me.”

There was a pause.

“You haven’t changed,” Lillimae said. Naivara prickled at her tone, and the blanket fell away.

“What do you mean by that?” She asked. Lillimae smiled wryly. She scratched at her scalp, ruffling some bronze curls.

“Let me guess,” Lillimae said. “Your father is on the road. You’re still living with Atlas?” Her tone was kind but a judgement lurked beneath her words.

“Everything changed,” Naivara said. “Everything.”

“Want to talk about it?” Lillimae asked. Naivara frowned. The answer was no, but she couldn’t say no. It was the very last thing she wanted to do. She instinctively reached for her breast pocket and felt nothing.

“It’s over there,” Lillimae said. “On the counter.”

Naivara relaxed slightly. She glanced at the flower and saw it poised neatly in a tiny vase. She stroked the back of her hand. Naivara wished she knew Lillimae enough to ask a proper question. Just one question, one good question that showed she paid attention, that the chasm between them wasn’t so big. But she couldn’t think of a good question. Thus, she blurted out, “Why did you leave town?”

Lillimae’s expression fell. She looked down at her knees and picked at her neck.

“Uncomfortable questions,” Lillimae said with a grimace. “Guess that’s just how it goes. I guess it’s the same as you. I assume.”

“You got kicked out?”

“No,” Lillimae said, looking up in shock. “You got kicked out? Why?”

Oh. Oh. Fuck.

“They never kick people out,” Lillimae said. “What did you do?”

“It’s complicated,” Naivara said, and her eyes watered. “It’s a lot. I don’t have the energy, Lily. I don’t.”

“Okay,” Lily said, pushing to her feet. “Okay. That’s fine. I’ll go get you food.”

“I can’t eat iron,” Naivara said reflexively. “Or things that touch iron.”

“I know that,” Lily said, already at the door. “You think I’d forget?”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Naivara said.

“Nah,” Lily said. “I remember everything. Good and bad. Do you want pancakes?”

Pancakes. It was a perplexing feeling, to think Lillimae would take the time to cook for her. The last time someone made her pancakes, it was her father. One of the last good breakfasts that they shared. It had been at Treasure’s house, because she had steel pans and Savan could use them so long as he shared what he cooked. He loved it. She loved it. Naivara would eat the pancakes before they ever touched a plate. And sometimes, when she visited and her father wasn’t there, the folks asked if she could make pancakes. Which she couldn’t do, because she always forgot the recipe. The recipe that had belonged to her mother. The recipe that only her father knew.

The memory scrambled forward like an unruly dog: A pancake with berry eyes and a syrup smile. Lily rolling it up like a rug and devouring it, dipping it in honey and butter between bites. Can I join?

“Yeah,” Naivara said. “Pancakes sound good.”

Mason didn’t want to go to the sermon. It crept up on him. By chance, he woke up at dawn. By chance, he glanced out the window and saw two people scurrying to the Western Corner. By chance, he put on a shirt and pants and through no fault of his own, found himself at a small hut with several dozen others. Behind the hut there was a large hive, and a pile of...something. Mason’s nose crinkled at the smell. He stood there only a short while before more people arrived, a near dozen.

Several individuals pulled up shovels balanced against the hut, and began to turn the contents of the piles. As a faint light crept across the town, he realized exactly what he was looking at: left-overs. Bone with bits of meat left on it, the skins of fruits, shriveled up once-greens.

“I’m here for a...sermon?” Mason said. He saw a prickle of amusement upon a woman’s face.

“A sermon,” she said. “Right. Once he’s out, Killian will find you something to do.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and Mason glimpsed spindles of white creeping up her forearm. He bit his lip and glanced at the hut.

“When does he come out?” Mason asked.

“I think he’s doing confession,” she said. “So when whoever is in there is done.”

“He hasn’t been out yet,” a woman perched at his doorstep said. She looked downright ill, her skin pale, her cheekbones hollow.

“Confession?” Mason asked.

“Oh, you’ll see,” she said. “It’s just something we do to make sure we improve. We talk about things we did wrong, or things we regret, and he helps direct us on a better path. You feel better afterwards. He brings peace.”

Mason frowned, glancing at everyone around the hut.

“Whole lot of people here,” he said. “He does confession for everyone?”

“No,” she said. “Just once a day, at dawn. Whoever arrives first gets to see him.”

“Huh. Alright then. Can I ask about your arm?”

“What about it?”

“How did it get those white marks?” He asked. She gave him a look of confusion.

“My arm doesn’t have white marks,” she said.

He paused.

“Oh,” he laughed. “Trick of the light. My bad, so sorry.”

The door to the hut opened. The woman who at been seated at the foot of his door step sprang to her feet.

“Good morning everyone,” Killian said.

“Good morning,” everyone said. Mason’s skin prickled. Killian ignored the woman at his door and motioned for Mason to join him.

“She should go first,” Mason said.

“Don’t be silly,” Killian said. “You’re new. You need an opportunity to understand our community. Join me.” The woman at the door crossed her arms and dropped her gaze, flushing red. Mason felt ashamed but he couldn’t protest. He entered the little hut. Killian shut the door and all became quiet.

The hut was small. It was all just one big room; a window on one side, a small cot, a table, and two chairs. He had squatted in abandoned properties better furnished than this.

“So uh…confession,” Mason said, taking a seat. “That’s interesting.”

“Everyone has regrets,” Killian said. “But those regrets don’t serve anyone. Not until they take the time to learn from it and go forward in their lives. Here.” He extended a palm. A maroon berry, shiny as a pearl glimmered back at Mason. He took it.

“Thank you,” Mason said.

“Eat it,” Killian said. Mason obliged, the berry sweet against his tongue. He hadn’t even had breakfast. Ugh.

“Just one?” Mason asked.

“Just one,” Killian said. “Lucky you.”

“Right,” Mason said. “Okay. So tell me about your religion thing.”

“A philosophy.”

“Do you have a God?” Mason asked. The inside of his mouth felt tingly. He ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to find lingering traces of juice.

“Tiramen,” Killian said. “This is not an interview, Mason.”

“Well you invited me to a ‘sermon’ so I figure asking questions is appropriate.”

“It is. This is meant to be an opportunity to relieve yourself of things weighing down on your soul.”

“That’s very kind. I have nothing weighing on me.”

“That can’t be true, Mason. Everyone carries something with them.”

“Well I don’t,” Mason said. “If that’s what this is all about, I’ll be going.”

“Tiramen grants me knowledge,” Killian said. “And Tiramen tells me there is much weighing on you. Don’t you miss your family?”

“You aren’t special for telling me I miss family,” Mason said. “Anyone would miss family.”

“Do you regret leaving them behind?”

“No,” Mason said, his tone defensive. “No.”

“How do you feel, wandering from place to place alone?”

“Fine.”

“You don’t get lonely?”

Mason scratched at his neck.

“Killian,” he said. “I don’t want this. You’re probing and I’m not into it.”

“You must be lonely,” Killian said. “I imagine that’s why you’ve gotten so close to the Goldenholi’s.”

“They are good people,” Mason said.

“Yes. Unfortunately, Savan is very resistant to reconciling his decisions. He stands convinced that he’s never done anything wrong. It’s resulted in all sorts of issues for Naivara.” Mason pulled a face.

“Issues?” Mason asked.

“She’s unstable,” Killian said. “Anyone can see why. Savan didn’t raise her so much as pop in for visits at random intervals.”

“This isn’t any of my business.”

“Yes it is,” Killian said. “If you’re so interested in her to the point where you’re spending time with her behind her fiancé’s back, you may as well know the truth about her.”

“So that’s what this is,” Mason said. “A guilt trip hidden behind philosophy. I take it you’re friends with Atlas? You were on the perimeter with him during the Bloom. Let him know that nothing happened, that this is overkill, and I have no regrets.”

“I can’t tell anyone anything I learn in confession. So you enjoyed walking in on her bathing?”

“What?”Masonlaughed. “I didn’t enjoy that. I felt terrible. It was an accident.”

“So you didn’t like what you saw?”

“I felt bad about walking in there,” Mason said. “It was a privacy violation. I left immediately.”

“But you are drawn to her,” Killian said. “She’s charmed you. You snooped through the basement. Collected an article of her clothing. I’m no fool, Mason. You scried upon her.”

“And?”

“And that is a violation. It is unconscionable. To peer into someones circumstances like that is shameless and depraved.”

“Wow,” Mason said. “Wow. Okay.”

“It is not what you saw so much as what you could have seen. You could have caught her in a moment of vulnerability. A moment of intimacy. A moment of indecency. And I bet you would have enjoyed it.”

“That’s a lie,” Mason said.

“I imagine anyone would despise seeing someone they desire having relations with another. I can see the hate beneath the surface. You truly abhor Atlas, don’t you?”

“I’d like to leave now.”

“You want Naivara for yourself.”

“No,” Mason said. “I want her far, far away from the likes of a freak show priest and cheating fiancé.”

“For yourself.”

“NO,” Mason said. “I’m out of here-”

“I’ll tell Atlas about the jacket,” Killian said, and Mason sank back into his seat, glowering at him. The man seemed very content with the hostility in the air. His lip curved up in one corner.

“So tell me,” Killian said. “Why are you attracted to flighty, forgetful, un-appreciative, easily frustrated girl?”

Mason decided that he would run with Killian’s ideas. Just to get out of there. He tried to stifle his rage.

“She’s nice. She’s patient. She’s sweet.”

“You’re biased,” Killian said. “You don’t know her.” “And what, you do?” Mason asked.

“When she had nobody,” Killian said. “She came to me for guidance. I didn’t say anything, the girl was on the verge of a terrible spiral, but she was...unstable. What do you expect with a girl like that?”

“With a girl like that?” Mason asked.

“Her type.”

“Which is?”

“Hysterical.”

If the room weren’t so threadbare, Mason would have thrown something. Hysterical. She’s out in the forest, alone, not responding to his messages and she is hysterical? Her father is sick, Atlas is cheating on her, she’s forced out of home, she’s robbed, and she is hysterical?

“She told me,” Mason said. “She told me you think she has female hysteria. I don’t know if you’re aware, but the concept has been dead for decades now. The concept lets people throw a wall between themselves and the real issue-”

“Which is?” “Stress!” Mason declared. “Look at her! She’s got a fiancé who tests her limits and she barely eats, and her father is sick! It’s enough to drive anyone mad, Killian.”

“Interesting thought.” “Is Atlas ever in here?” Mason asked. “Because I think he deserves to get his bell rung.”

“He and I have an arrangement.”

“Right,” Mason said. “Like how he and that blonde lady have an arrangement.”

“Mind your words, Mason.”

“How about you undo whatever half-bit curse you slapped on me when we shook hands and I’ll get of your life forever.”

“Half-bit curse,” Killian said. “You really should watch your mouth. You’re imagining things.”

“Bullshit.”

“You,” Killian said. “Are very resistant to the truth.”

“You’re resistant to reality,” Mason shot, pushing out of his seat. “Good-fucking-bye.”

“Just so it’s said,” Killian spoke. “I do think you and Naivara would be an adorable pair. It’s unfortunate you arrived a year too late.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Mason asked.

“What do you think it means?” Killian asked.

Mason paused. He looked at Killian, really looked at the man.

A bony man with bags under his eyes. His hair was unkempt. He was clean but not in the way that meant anything: Killian’s cleanliness looked like the absence of life. His eyes were tinged red, his eyes were dark pits. He was tense. Incredibly tense. His wrists were bare, there was no necklace, no earrings, no tattoos. It was a sad sight, and yet Killian sat there grinning. It wasn’t a happy grin. More like those critters that sprinted through the canopy, baring their teeth as they devoured fruit. Mason decided in that moment that there was nothing to understand about Killian, because Killian made no sense.

How dare you associate with a mans fiancé. You’d be a cute couple though.

Mason didn’t feel like panning for gold knee deep in mud, so he pushed out of his chair and made a bee-line for the door.

“I wish there was something I cared about enough to defend in earnest,” Killian said. “Be smart, Mason. That’s all I have to say.”

Smart. That word never felt like it was his to lay claim to.

Mason decided it was best to just take his leave and go.

Sick. Four letters powerful enough to cause a heart attack. Savan did his best to remain calm but the gnashing panic ate away at his resolve. Kallisto was poor company just as well. Usually he felt a sense of pity for the girl but today it was a raw, ugly, hate. A hatred for her, for her brother, for the wolf that put him here. He was ready to order her out and smother himself in nerves when a knock sounded at the door.

Kallisto opened it and there stood Treasure. She looked about the same as last they met: tall, thin, red hair. She had it all pulled up in a bun and wore a dark dress, and had that patent look of disinterest. She held a glamorous bottle of something, and tapped her nails against it. Tnk tink tink.

She shoved her way in, which Kallisto wasn’t pleased about in the least, set the bottle of rum down at Savan’s bedside and declared she heard the news and had to visit an old friend. Savan played along, despite knowing for a fact that he and Treasure had never gotten along well enough to regard each other as ‘friends.’ Treasure went on to say that she was there to lend a hand with Naivara: elves can be finicky when sick, after all. There are things people don’t think about-

Kallisto shut her down. Said Atlas wouldn’t allow it. Then Treasure sat herself down at his side, crossed a leg over the other and stated she wouldn’t leave until she saw Naivara. Kallisto tried to move her (a futile effort; Kallisto knew not of the folks Treasure dealt with on a daily basis, and was thus unprepared for the effortless redirects and the cold slap of a palm across her face.) Kallisto promptly stormed out of the room to fetch her brother. In that brief window of time, Treasure turned to him, her expression grave.

“Last night the bard paid me a visit,” she said. “He was worried about Naivara. He needed a mirror and I allowed him to use mine, but only under my supervision. He tried to scry on her and was met with a fae. A fae, Savan. I don’t know what Atlas has done but Naivara isn’t upstairs. Odds are she isn’t even in town.”

He didn’t want to believe her, but he knew Treasure. She wouldn’t spin a tale as bold as this. There was a silver lining, faint as it was: there was no evidence to suggest she was sick.

“What am I to do?” Savan asked. “I don’t know where she is. If she’s safe.”

“I think she’s safe,” Treasure said, popping the cork off the bottle of rum. “I’ve heard a tale or two about good fae wandering the forest. Want some?” She offered him the bottle. He shook his head. Alcohol would only hurt him. “Fine,” she sighed. “I’m just saying, the figure I saw didn’t feel wretched or malicious. I think she’s safe.”

“I worry she’ll be stuck somewhere,” Savan said. “That she’ll never come back. How will she come back? Where did she even go?”

“That’s the mystery,” Treasure murmured, popping the cork off the bottle. “I suspect the bard knows something. I assumed he was following a hunch but I could be wrong.” She poured the rum into a tea cup and Savan didn’t stop her.

The door opened and Savan flushed red. Atlas. He tried veiling his hate with an empty look, but he sensed Atlas knew exactly how he felt about him. It was no secret that Savan had been hellbent on talking Naivara out of marriage. Out of the Grove. Savan wasn’t one to forget and he remembered oh so clearly all the excuses Atlas had cultivated and Naivara had parroted. A slurry of ‘why do you even care’ and ‘what right do you have to tell me what to do’ and...more hurtful rhetoric than he cared to reminisce on. Savan raised the teacup to his lips and drank.

“You think you can walk into my home,” Atlas began. “And treat my sister like that? The fuck is wrong with you, Treasure?”

“She kept touching me and I didn’t appreciate it,” she said. “Not my fault she never learned her manners.”

“You’re one to talk,” Atlas said. “Last I checked all the people under your wing are about as well mannered as gnats.”

“Right,” she said dryly. “Well manners don’t account for much in this town anyhow. Look at us both. Thriving in spite of bad attitudes.”

“Excuse me?” Atlas asked. “Watch your mouth, Treasure. I won’t be disrespected by the likes of you.”

“The likes of me?” Treasure asked, pushing to her feet. “Care to elaborate?”

Savan poured himself a shot of rum in an old tea cup.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Atlas said.

“I don’t, actually,” Treasure said. “I want you to spell it out. Oh, wait…”

Atlas’ mouth dropped open, then curved into a silent snarl. In that moment, Savan wished Eraveia were here. He could see it now: her mouth dropping open in delight, her grinning and biting her lip as Treasure laid the insult on thick. She always enjoyed a hefty dose of drama.

“This,” Atlas said. “Is why Naivara isn’t allowed to visit you. You promote disrespect.”

“You make it easy.”

Savan took a shot. The rum had a full, mildly sweet flavor.

“Get out!” He ordered. “Get out before I drag you down the stairs myself!”

“I’ll see you Savan,” Treasure said, pushing to her feet. Savan raised the tea cup in a faux ‘cheers’ as a send off. He never liked her much, but she sure was memorable.

“I suppose that I will be watching you then,” Atlas said.

“Aren’t you watching Naivara?” Savan asked.

“Kallisto can handle her,” Atlas said. “Didn’t think my sister would be getting harassed trying to make sure you had everything you needed. Why do you tolerate her?” Atlas asked. “Why? Look at the example she sets for Naivara. Talking back, flinging insults left and right...”

“She was close friends with Eraveia,” Savan said. “She is...family.”

“Well a family is built on respect,” Atlas said, dragging a chair out to Savan’s bedside. “Look at her. Disrespectful whore.” Savan took a massive breath, attempting to stifle the heat creeping into his face. “This is why I don’t let Naivara visit. All she’ll learn is how to sabotage a perfectly fine day...maybe that’s why she’s the way she is. You let her visit Treasure too often and now…” Savan tuned him out. He poured himself another drink and focused on the sloshing of rum against the tea cup until Atlas tired himself out. Kallisto can handle her. Right. As if she was even upstairs. When there was silence, he glanced up, expecting an empty room. Atlas was still there, glowering at him coldly.

“What?” Savan asked. “Are you done?”

“Do you know how much I’ve invested in Naivara?” Atlas asked. “Because I care. You think I don’t, but I do.”

“You care the wrong way,” Savan said, the rum rounding out the cut of his words. “As opposed to what? You?” Atlas asked. “Look at yourself.”

“We’ve done this song and dance before Atlas,” Savan sighed. “Let me heal in peace.”

“I,” Atlas said. “Have been at her side. I put a roof over her head and fed her, and she’s got a warm bed. What have you done? Huh?”

Savan poured himself another shot, biting his tongue.

“The fact you didn’t bleed out in Eastgate? You got lucky with the bard, but luckier with me. Who would have taken you in?”

“You’ve made your point,” Savan said.

“You’re so fucking sour,” Atlas said. “I keep trying to figure out why Naivara is such a project. At first I thought oh, it’s the dead mom. That’ll fuck up anyone. Then I thought it was probably the Brickson’s. Or Treasure. I don’t think it’s any of that. I think it’s you.”

Savan would be a fool to pretend he was perfect. He knew very well what he missed in the process of making sure Naivara had a roof over her head and food in her belly. Taking her to go play with other kids in the neighborhood. Birthdays. Not all of them, but enough that she stopped expecting them. Her period. She went to Treasure for that one. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Sometimes he thought it was easier to list the things he was there for. Like her first steps. Her first words. Teaching her to read.

“What are you implying, Atlas?” Savan asked.

“That you failed her,” Atlas said, as though telling the time.

Savan didn’t know what to say. He just took another shot and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

#writeblr #original story #oc

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kalunfinch · 1 year

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I really worry about people my age and younger than me with all these posts about how acknowledging the humanity of horrible people in media makes the creators bad writers and bad people. The most ludacris example I've seen is someone claiming that ATLAs anti-colonialism message falls flat because UNCLE IROH is an easy character to root for.

I'm not saying that all the people who start discourse like this are young. Personally, I just HOPE they're young and speaking from inexperience about life in general.

Like there's this guy at work I was talking to about two years younger than me and we were complaining about an old coworker glad she was gone type shit. He said something like "she's wayy too concerned with badmouthing minors and getting in their business" and I was like. "What? What does that mean?"

Apparently what he meant was that he was too involved in HIS business making snide comments, overcorrecting his work and all that. Like... Josh honey. The fact that she called you fat isn't bad because you're not 18 yet. It's just BAD. Tbh, I had no idea that people actually spoke this way. I had seen memes and assumed it was a gross exaggeration like the fucking "did you just assume my gender?" thing from when I was a kid.

I'm getting off topic.

My point is: you have to acknowledge the humanity of horrible people. The people that hurt you aren't playing some sick game of chess like a fucking batman villain trying to find the best way to hurt you. They live day by day just like anyone else.

It's HARD to acknowledge the humanity of people that have hurt you or even just horrible people that you just know ABOUT. Like insert any politician that's trying to remove a groups rights.

But that's exactly why you have to do it. If you can't recognize that, you're going to get yourself into some awful situations with bad friends and abusive relationships. It will take you FOREVER to realize that the way you're being treated isn't okay because their actions don't match this master manipulator idea you have about abuse.

All we are is what we do. You ARE all fhe awful things you do. Actions speak louder than words.

The picture in my head of who my mom is doesn't match her actions. In my mind, she was the only person that had my back and she protected me from other people that would hurt me worse. That's what took me so long to accept that my relationship with my mother wasn't okay.

It took cutting off my father to realize how bad my relationship with my mother was. She wasn't the "only one protecting me from him". In fact, she was very similar to my father. The actions she took against me have hurt and scarred me much worse than anything my father ever did.

My mother still sees herself as that person I thought she was. Most likely, she will continue to until the day she dies.

And for gods fucking sake can we stop with the anti-redemption bullshit. Uncle Iroh wasn't even a colonist during ANY of the events of avatar the last airbender. People can CHANGE. They can grow. Really, I hope the people I've left behind throughout my life DO grow and change. That doesn't mean I have to be a part of that change. And yeah, it'll hurt sometimes to see people who've hurt you do better. There is a thirteen year gap between me and when my mother had new kids.

A part of me hurts knowing she'll do better for them than she ever did for me.

People are allowed to improve themselves. You don't owe them anything tho. You don't have to resume communications, you don't have to be a part of their growth. Hell, you don't even have to forgive them.

Just please. Please give people the room to grow and change.

God I'm so tired.

0 notes

bridgyrose · 2 years

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Blake didn't talk that much to Ruby due to her own internal struggles at the time. During Atlas she feels confident enough in herself to converse more. She did NOT realize things were so bad when Ruby to confesses she though Blake hated her.

Blake smiled as she felt the cold air of Atlas brush across her face. She leaned over the banister of the balcony and looked across the city. Her ears twitched a bit as she heard footsteps behind her. “I’m glad you came.”

Ruby slowly nodded and leaned against the banister next to Blake. “I’m surprised that you wanted to spend a bit of time with me.”

“Why wouldnt I? We’re friends and I enjoy your company-”

“Then why did you never talk to me?”

Blake slowly looked towards Ruby, her smile fading as she realized how pained the younger girl was. Silver eyes avoided her own, keeping turned away. “I… tried to…”

“It never felt like you wanted to.” Ruby held her arm and turned away from Blake, keeping her eyes on the city below the Academy. “Every attempt I made at trying to hold a conversation with you was met with you running away or giving one word acknowledgements before rushing off to somewhere else. You talked to Yang and Weiss more often… even Jaune and Pyrrha could get more answers from you than I did. I thought you hated me.”

Blake’s ears drooped when she heard that. She slowly gripped the banister and held back a few tears. “I didnt… I dont hate you… But when we first met, you… reminded me of Adam.” She shuffled her feet a bit and lowered her head. “That first night we met, you told me that even though life isnt a fairytale, that the whole reason we were here was to make the world better. And while I agreed, part of me thought you would end up just like he did. That those words would just be lies spun around to make others believe in you for you to use them.”

Ruby turned to Blake, frowning. “You thought I was going to be like him?!”

“I was scared you would.” Blake’s voice started to tremble as she spoke. “Ruby, you dont understand what I’ve been through. I followed someone who had ambitions like yours, who used honeyed words to get others to follow a cause that we all thought he believed in. And I do believe that there was a time where Adam believed in what the White Fang stood for. So I was cautious around you. I didnt want to get too close in case you turned out to be like Adam, but the more I got to know you and the longer I watched you, I knew you wouldnt be like him. By then, it was too late. Beacon fell and I…”

Blake let out a sigh and let go of the banister. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to keep her words flowing. “I fell into a dark place. I worried that all I’d do is bring you pain, that I’d be the reason you all would be hurt. So I ran. And until a few weeks ago, I still didnt feel free. I tried to get closer, but the fears still lingered and kept me from doing so. I regret all of it and I wish I could go back and show you just how much I trust you… how much I needed a friend like you.”

Ruby stayed silent and mulled over what Blake had told her. Finally, she spoke once she had her own thoughts figured out. “Then… we can use this to try to start over.” A small smile crept across her lips as she turned to face Blake. “But I need you to promise me that if you have a worry like that to just tell me. I promise I’ll understand.”

Blake wiped a tear from her eyes and smiled back at Ruby. “I promise. From now on, I’ll show you that you can trust me.”

#rwby #ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #blake belladonna #drabbles #hurt/comfort

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ackerpreach · 3 years

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This ending .... I can name 500 reasons and I will name them right now, because I don’t think I’m the only one who is upset with how things turned out. (Also, A positive message for all of you at the end)

MAJOR LEAKS SPOILERS/ READ WITH CAUTION

Update: after reading more theories from fellow RM bloggers, and sleeping over it one day, this entire chapter might be an april fools... Don't fully lose hope yet beautiful people. It's me just giving a review on a possible fake April fools chapter

After following this franchise since 2013, so nearly a DECADE. this ending is a pure disserve to the entire fandom. I feel like Yams has rushed it just for the sake of being done with the entire manga. So many things are left open, characters and their developemt are reverted back all the way to chapter 1 or are left even worse than that...

Mikasa’s worthless character development/ Aaronmika’s horrible toxic codependent relationship

Oh honey... Let’s start with how horrible Isayama has treated her. We were all rooting for her, because we all felt like she was so misunderstood. She had a horrible childhood and imprinted on a guy who treated her like trash 99 percent of the story. And then, slowly but surely, she starts to realize she has to stop obsessing over him in the uprising arc with the help of a real man who treats her like a queen, more importantly, he treats her like a real human being. This man sees her for her abilities and that she has the power to be self dependent. She learned parts of herself, that she was able to work together with him like no one else could. She learned parts of herself she was unable to do so if she kept obsessing about Aaron. All this love, care, mutual understanding and RESPECT these two shared.

but...NAH FUCK THAT, right Yams?? Throw all this development away, all this bonding. Let’s make the main female lead even more yandere than she already was in the first season. Let her make out with his decapacitated head (like dude, this is also pure disrespect to Aaron’s dead body btw) and let her obsess even more about the guy who has treated her no better than a piece of toilet cloth 99 percent of the time. The guy who was never really appreciative in front of her for saving his ass billions of times, who always pushed her away, who yells at her and snaps at her whenever he can instead of reasoning and talking calmly with her in mature way. (EVEN PARODY YOUTUBE CHANNELS WHO DONT SHIP ANYTHING MAKE IT A TROPE WHERE AARON TELLS MIKASA HE HATES HER GUTS WHENEVER HE CAN)

Then after all that, suddenly Yams tries to last minute persuade us Aaron’s always been head over heels for her??? He should have build their relationship better which he hasn’t even tried to do so... He must be thinking his fans are stupid for eating this from his hands.

Like seriously??? What is this???

Isayama is just fully contradicting himself. It’s like someone tipped him off with a buttload of money for him to write Aaron like this to satisfy shipping needs and to cash in those extra money’s from it. Even if he tried to cater to Erem*ika, this is not how you write a loving and caring couple which people will root for.

This next two panels just freaking infuriates me to the core of my soul. I can’t even describe how dissapointed I am with Mikasa.

Why is she clutching that head so obsessively like that? Why is she walking and turning her back away from her comrades? After everything they have done for her, after all they’ve been through?! After everything Armin has done? Standing up for Mikasa, beating up Aaron for hurting her. I feel like even Jean, Connie and Sasha have cared more for her in a healthy way. Sure, Aaron cares for her romantically too apparently (What a twist Yams :)), but has he aided her to becoming a mentally healthier individual? Has he aided in her mental stability? The answer is a big fat NO! All I see between these two after today’s raw Chapter’s are too Yandere obsessed individuals who have no clue on how to maintain a healthy relationship.

Love should only go as far as the heart can endure and it seems like her character is not willing to be aware of that. Even Armin was able to let go of Aaron in those latest panels. Why does her entire character resolve around this guy??? I really do not understand. Her Ackerbond and her age is not an excuse for her to throw her life away like this.

Shonen’s disgusting portrayal of women

I’ve seen this countless of times in the many years I’ve watched anime. SasuS*ku from Naruto, Ichih*me from Bleach, Shinji and that oranged hair girl from Neon Evangelion.. Why do these women get decreased to simpletons with one single goal? And that is to obsess over a bland male lead who either treats them like trash or doesn’t notice them up until the last last chapter (LITERALLY WHAT YAMS HAS DONE). Some go even as far as the male leading wanting the kill the female love interest and yet the female lead is still in love with them???. It’s disgusting for him to write the MAIN female character this way.

It’s dissapointing we believed in Isayama doing Mikasa’s character right. That she’s finally being able to let go of her codependency and to live for herself maybe live in Hizuru and find more about her roots???, but every single time she shows some improvement, it’s burried deep in the ground again by the Author. It almost seems like a lowkey kink of some of the male Mangaka’s to write about a girl obsessing over them no matter what. I see this so many times to the point that I truly stand behind it that some of them might have this fantasy.

I wished he didn’t portray her last panels like this. Everyone else is living their lives while Mikasa is still grieving about him. I’m not saying she’s not allowed to grieve and everyone takes it at their own pace, but cmon... Show her living her life too. This is too much. Her being next to his grave and grieving him as her last panels just shoves it in our faces that YET AGAIN, BEING OBSESSED WITH AARON IS ALL HER CHARACTER STANDS FOR.

I truly despise how Isayama handles her grieving, kissing his decapacitated head, carrying it around like some handbag, and her last panels being thissss.

The world leaving Paradis alone miraciously after all that???

It’s so weird and out of place with so many political feuds and disagreements between the world and Paradis, the entire Rumbling happening and we can see Mikasa just chilling outside in Paradis with no one bothering them. You can see the rings of the walls in the picture below. I don’t know the exact reason behind as the manga is still in Korean, but from what I see, the story went the route of: throwing a happy ending without enough proper reason and it was all fixed just like that in a snap! It doesn’t fit the entire narrative of attack on titan for things to be so peacful out of nowhere. When it comes to the narrative, how things work in that world, how hard it is to achieve peace, everything made somewhat sense up until chapter 138. 139 seems so so out of place... It’s like I’m reading a chapter from a totally different manga.

Aaron Yoghurt got defeated so easily/ Aaron’s character assassination

The build up on the first part of the rumbling was great, those kids carrying coins. You could feel humanity’s fear and Aaron’s hatred in those pages. As if he truly had a goal and he has turned away completely from his comrades and his closest friends with no return. The world seemed truly doomed, but he got defeated just like that. He was in the nape all this time (because screw the warhammer power of hiding yourself elsewhere in his ginormous titan body). There is no master plan as we all expected, and in the end he just acts all yandere in the paths with Armin and that’s it... They massacared his entire character as well. Many fan theories created a better ending with his character. Him being reincarnated as Historia’s baby would be so much better. For him to still keep on seeking and to strive for power. It has always been his motive. It’s his personality from the start until chapter 138. Even if things are okay, to keep on going and to seek that adventure, but then.. He’s so weak and directionless suddenly.. It’s so weird... This is not Aaron at all???

Using Aaron for him this entire post, because I don’t want others to invade our tags... :)))

Historia’s baby

The only panel we got from Historia’s child was this. Just a normal kid, normal life... Why did Isayama put so much effort in highlighting Historia’s pregnancy if it was nothing too spectacular anyway? It seemed he had major plans for this kid and for their development too??? It’s again, big plans, big developments, big relationship dynamic, but all got thrown out of the window...

Don’t read the next sentence if you are a minor :’)

It’s like almost ejaculating, but stopping right before it and repeating that every single Arc.

My energy when writing about this chapter is the same as Nostalgia Critic and his hatred for atla the live action

In Conclusion...

I know us fans should not be deciding on how this story should end, because this is Isayama’s story after all, but I truly wished for him to wrap up things much more rounded. There are so many unanswered questions... Again, I think for the sake of being done with this manga, he rushed all of it. He’s become a millionaire from this story and now his pockets are jammed full, I guess he doesn’t need to put in any effort anymore, right? Perhaps a controversial opinion, but I really wished he cared for his fans a little bit more with this last chapter by giving some answers that make sense at least. It’s his fans who gave him this platform and the opportunity to tell his story and for him to at least give in a bit of effort especially in the last chapter is the least he can do. Rivamika being canon or not, he truly rushed it without thinking much about the entire story line. He expanded it so much, he didn’t know how to bind it all together.

Even after all this, I’ll still ship them in the headcanon type of way. I do give credit to Isayama for giving us a template for such a beautiful dynamic between Levi and Mikasa. He decides to waste it, but that doesn’t mean we have to. I want to thank all the people with amazing writing skills, the ones who give us beautiful art like @carmenlee @phit chan @vialesana and many more. I want to remind all of you that we can create something beautiful of our own and we don’t neccesarily need canon lore for that. The art I’ve seen, the fanfictions I’ve read have touched me deeper than Isayama ever could at times.The Mikasa in our mind is appreciate of Levi, is mature, classy and has a strong will for herself. They spend their remaining days together peacefully. Keep writing, keep drawing, stay creative.

I love you all so so much, I’ve only been publicly active since March, but thank you Rivamika fandom for giving me so much joy as a lurker these past 7 years <3

#rivamika #snk leaks #snk 139 leaks #levimika #mikalevi

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falling-pages · 3 years

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Over and Over, Again and Again: KyoHaru (commission)

The absolutely lovely @ouranbound commissioned me for her birthday. This was so much fun and I just melt every time I read it 🥺 thank you so much sweetheart, I hope your day is magical!!

Info on commissions here (updated!)

Despite the heat, despite the outdoors, Kyoya considered it a lovely afternoon, if only for two reasons: he had a book in his hands and Haruhi’s head in his lap.

Kyoya Ootori x Haruhi Fujioka

Genre: Fluff

Contains: first I Love Yous, established relationship

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, but no drinking

Kyoya did not like being outside. It was often hot and sticky, the sun too bright and burning his skin, or too cold and blustery, the wind too harsh for his delicate constitution. Even refraining from walking to work, using his own driver to commute the blocks. It was silly, yes, and quite wasteful, but he had the money, and all that money allowed him to demand comfort. He never could understand why the others seemed to strain at their leashes to go outdoors--Mori and Hikaru organizing hikes and fishing trips, Tamaki and Kaoru scampering after them. He couldn’t find pleasure in swatting at the sweat running down his back, or cleaning his glasses every few minutes. The outdoors were quite insufferable.

But Haruhi liked the outdoors, and he liked Haruhi.

He supposed it was because of their different upbringings. While he had all the luxury of indoor pools and air conditioning, she didn’t. The outdoors were free; a simple space where commoners could exist without the expectation of spending money. Unlike any mall or restaurant, beneath the sun, the air cost nothing.

So he put up with it whenever she requested it. Her cool touch was more enticing than air conditioning, anyways.

He began to regret it, though, when their wine was no longer chilled. They had arranged a lovely picnic, lounging in a field his father owned. There were plans to develop it, one day, but for now it remained wild. A place where lovers could stow away amid the tall grass waving in the wind.

They sat in the shade of a lemon tree. Remains of rei-shabu and morokyu were stowed away in their picnic satchel, next to the ice pack. Their glasses were still filled with strawberry wine, though their minds and stomachs were too content to have more.

Despite the heat, despite the outdoors, Kyoya considered it a lovely afternoon, if only for two reasons: he had a book in his hands and Haruhi’s head in his lap.

It would have been lovelier in late May or early June, but he had been so busy with the end of the fiscal year. He was afraid of Haruhi’s impending disillusionment, with their relationship still so new, but if she was ever discontent, he knew she would tell him. Dating him had not turned her into a placated doll, as he had feared. He still took care of her, showering her in wealth whenever she asked, but it was rare; mostly, she just wanted to spend time with him, and he just wanted to take care of her, making sure her stomach was full and loans paid.

Not to say he didn’t spoil her, though. He had bought the very dress she was wearing, a strappy yellow thing with magenta stitching. And the gold earrings, shaped like roses on dangling stems, which laid so artfully on the backdrop of her velvet brown hair splayed against his thigh. Her hair was long enough to begin curling slightly at the ends, whenever it wasn’t done up in her tight law school bun.

It was rare he saw her like this, heart unbound and carefree. Her skin was soft beneath his fingertips as he ran them against her cheek, half dreaming, half admiring. She slept in his lap, tuckered out from their afternoon. Lips red from wine pulled back slightly, a whimper on the tip of her tongue. For a moment, he feared had awoken her, hand frozen on her jaw, but she turned her neck back into his leg and resumed her breathing.

He sighed in relief. He had already ruined much in his life. The peaceful portrait beneath him was too pure to interrupt.

Once she was back asleep, he gave one last glance to her blushed cheeks and held up his book. It was old, a brown cover etched with gold, antique and clearly made for a bygone era, tattered pages though born on a press just a few years ago. Kyoya felt like that sometimes. An anachronism of his own kind. Set in one spot and lost to the pages of history.

But not here. A butterfly landed on Haruhi’s nose. Instead of swatting it, he watched, breathed in the life bellowing into his bones. In the world, at work, with his family, his soul felt ancient; his shoulders shook with the weight of an old-world empire. But with her, he was fresh, bathing in the fountain of youth. He was no longer an Atlas, cursed with the weight of the world; he was Dionysus with Ariadne--his shining jewel in the sky.

The love he had for her transcended space and time, yet she was blissfully unaware.

Tamaki’s advice echoed in his ears. He had to tell her eventually, else he’d lose her. Trained in all things etiquette, he still stumbled over even the most human of phrases.

Kyoya shook his head. The day he listened to Tamaki’s advice would be the day he’d resign from the Ootori group. As he returned to his book, his focus shifted. Some old French thing on culture, it mocked his feelings with dry phrases and tiny text. Tamaki had taught him enough French to get by, but reading it was another matter. It was to better himself and improve his chances with foreign business relations, was what he told himself, at least.

Haruhi’s ease and fascination with the language certainly had nothing to do with it. Nor did the jealousy in his palms when he would watch the two he loved most converse and giggle without him.

Some time after he resumed scanning it, regretting how he left his translation dictionary at home, Haruhi awoke. Not with a sigh or startle, as he was accustomed, but silently, with a breath, as if he were the bridge in which she crossed from one world into the next.

She laid still and watched him read, brilliant mind sweeping over each and every word. From the angle of his head tilt, she could see his eyes behind his glasses, a sharp, rare, deep black. Nondescript, and beautiful, the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen--above Tamaki’s lavender, Mori’s silver, the twins’ bronze and amber. She loved them because within their deep pools of tar, she saw her future.

Haruhi didn’t know for how long she looked at him. She had just started to fall back asleep when he spoke.

“I can feel you staring at me,” he murmured, not even taking his sight from the page.

She stayed focused on the smooth, pale skin of his jaw. It clenched and unclenched periodically, whenever he came across a phrase or word he didn’t know. She could have offered her help, but his lap was just too comfortable.

“I like the view,” she shrugged.

When he set the book down, eyes widened, she already knew what he was about to say.

“Out of all the sights, of the trees, flowers, and fields surrounding us, you think me more admirable?”

She was the lawyer--she was the one used to provoking confessions from people--but his cunning as a businessman made the words drip from his lips like honey, accentuating even as he dipped his head down to hers. Haruhi scrambled to shift her weight to her arm, propping herself up to meet his lips. And yet he hovered, smirking as he watched her mouth chase his, quieting her displeased whines with a chuckle.

“What, no answer?”

He was the devil in disguise, with a voice so silver and smooth, and she knew it. But if he were the devil, she was his Persephone--his lips were her pomegranate, and she bit.

She mustered her frustration into finally catching him in a kiss, swatting at his chest when she tasted his beleaguered smirk.

“You know my answer,” she retorted. “I choose you every day, over and over again.”

“I know,” my darling.” He removed his glasses, the only barrier between them, and pressed his forehead to hers. “And for that, I love you.”

He said it. It wasn’t how he planned on saying it, but it was there, suspended in the air by wires thin as twine. Her hand stilled in his hair, but she didn’t remove it.

“That’s the first time you’ve said it,” she breathed, an elation and joy she didn’t know she missed bubbling in her chest.

Kyoya opened his eyes. They had clenched shut on instinct, as protection, so he wouldn’t have to see the way she rejected him. But her calm voice coaxed them back open, and they settled on her lazy smile.

“It is,” he affirmed. “I thought...I thought you knew. It’s been so long.”

They had been dating for three months, yet known each other for nine years, and Kyoya had loved her for most of that. She had loved him for only half that, that she knew, but their affection was ancient, the kind read about in archaic stone tablets. The kind that would wait forever and ever to be discovered again and again.

“I do,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”

And just when he thought his back would break from carrying the world, she kissed away his pain into an immortal love.

#ouran high school host club #kyoharu #kyoya ootori x haruhi fujioka #kyoya ootori #haruhi fujioka #kyoya x haruhi #ohshc

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atlas-private · 3 years

Note

Hello, how about a scenario with Mama Arc going to visit her son in Beacon, Jaune is happy to see his mother.

Meanwhile the entire Beacon staff is in a panic, because in Ozpin's words, he doesn't want to have to deal with that monster.

(You actually just handed me a way to introduce my version of Mama Arc. For this I thank you.)

---

Pyrrha: Jaune?

Jaune: Yeah?

Pyrrha: Is that woman currently holding the Headmaster in an Armlock your mother?

Jaune: Yup, she did mention something about "Opening a can of whoop ass on the man who threw me into a forest."

Nora: Was she also the one who basically beat the snot out of the faculty members that rushed her when she got off the Bullhead?

Jaune: The very same.

Ren: Why though?

Jaune shrugged.

Jaune: Something about a Bounty on her I guess, she used to tell me about how she used to run a gang after dropping out of Beacon.

Pyrrha: Your mom was a student and has an active bounty on her?

Jaune: I guess, my dad was the one who claimed it after he got her pregnant. Dad says it was a "Enemies to Lovers" type thing. Although my mom says it was because he was better looking and actually worth a fight than her own gang lackeys were, plus he promised that if she beat him he would do anything she wanted. You know, Arc's word?

Ren: That's rather concerning.

Pyrrha: But very interesting.

Nora: What's her name anyways?

Jaune: Oh, it's Lachaira. Grandma said something about it meaning Steel in a different language.

Nora: Cool!

The group continue to watch as Jaune's mom is tackled by a faculty member she had knocked out previously.

Pyrrha: Should we help out?

They watched as the shorter woman shoved the larger man off of her and delivered several rapid punches the man face. The last one proved effective as the hook she sent made the man's head jerk violently before dropping to the ground with a thud.

Nora: It looks like she's winning.

The Headmaster was still in the floor as Lachaira made her way to him, the group thought they heard the man make a plea before she put him into an impressive arm bar.

Ren: I don't think an arm is meant to bend that way.

There a snap that echoed from Ozpin followed by a loud yell. The group winced when they heard it.

Nora: Hey Jaune?

Jaune: Yes Nora?

Nora: Is your mom single?

Jaune, Pyrrha and Ren looked at Nora in confusion and surprise. They then saw Jaune's mom pick up and dust herself off before walking towards them with a small limp, several scratches and a few bruises.

---

Lachaira Arc. Tanned skin and standing at a proud 5'5" with, in Nora's words, a body that looked like she lifted Ursa on a daily and punched boulders for fun. Her black hair was showing the faintest of silver and braided into a low ponytail. Dressed in a simple white shirt that was now dusted with dirt, tucked into a pair of black fitted pants with leather chaps over them and wearing a pair of sturdy black steel toe boots. She had finished using a small towel to wipe the dirt off her face to show the slight tomboyish looking face she had. Of course what struck out the most was the pair of blue eyes that were the same color, if not darker than Jaune's.

Lachaira: So I take it you kiddos enjoyed the show back there?

She grinned and showed off her oddly pointed set of teeth.

Nora: You bet Mama Arc, cool teeth by the way!

Ren: Pardon me for asking, but are you a faunus?

Lachaira chuckled.

Lachaira: Let me guess, was it my perfect skin or alluring curves that gave it away? But yeah, I'm a Faunus.

She narrowed her eyes.

Lachaira: That isn't going to be a problem is it?

Ren raised his hands.

Ren: Not at all, just curious was all.

Nora: What kind are you?

Lachaira raised a brow.

Lachaira: Curious one's aren't ya, well I'm a Honey Badger, besides the teeth I also have the tenacity of one, or at least that what my folks say.

Jaune walked back into he dorm room with a glass of water.

Jaune: Here you go mom, couldn't find any soda so I hope this is okay.

His mom cooed at him and stood up.

Lachaira: Aw, my poor little Knight is worried about his mama.

She grabbed him a bear hug as his team heard the various pops of his spine.

Lachaira: I'm so glad I was able to raise such a sweet boy like you.

Jaune however struggled for breath.

Jaune: Thanks mom... Love you too... Please let go?

She gave a 'oops' and let Jaune go as he greatly sucked in his breath.

Pyrrha: Ma'am if it's okay to ask, why did you beat up our Headmaster?

The Arc Mother shrugged.

Lachaira: I gave my word that I would open a can of whoop ass on the man who threw my son into a forest.

Before Pyrrha could ask she felt Lachaira's hands on her face as she stared deeply into her eyes. The Spartan began to blush slightly as he face drew closer and closer before stopping a few inches.

Lachaira: Huh, you're right kiddo, her eyes would make even Emeralds envious.

Jaune: Mom! I thought you promised you weren't gonna say anything from the letters!

Now the Spartan let out a full blown blush while his mom laughed.

Lachaira: Sorry sweetie by I had my fingers crossed. Now then.

She let go of Pyrrha's face and looked towards Ren and Nora.

Lachaira: Which one is the bubbly bomber and which is the pretty boy?

Nora and Ren only gulped as Jaune covered his face in despair and embarrassment.

---

In the Beacon Medical Ward

Several of the Faculty members now sat with casts and bandages on their bodies. Amongst them was the Headmaster himself in a full body cast now as his sipped at his coffee with a long straw.

The Deputy if Beacon did not looked amused as she read over a file on the very woman who did this

Goodwitch: Lachaira Arc, Honey Badger Faunus. Dropped out of Beacon, former leader of a gang formerly called Oso Heaven, had a bounty placed on her by the kingdom of Atlas, bounty collected by a man named Gregory Greene.

She turned the page and sighed.

Goodwitch: So it was James that had a new bounty placed on her the very day she arrived here, and by your request?

Ozpin stopped sipping and looked at Glynda.

Ozpin: When she was student she was the best of in her year, more than that she was able to single handedly take out three teams of trainees after an altercation involving her Faunus aspects. In her words she stold then, "You're a bunch of fucking pansies that deserve to get dicked down by an Ursa in heat." promptly broke a number of limbs of her opponents and causing an entire team to drop out as well due to the severity of their injuries, without any weapon besides her bare hands and teeth. She then handed in her form for leaving the school, flipped me the bird and took the last Bullhead that was leaving that day.

Glynda: But now?

Ozpin gave a breath.

Ozpin: She seems to be a mother to one our students and was simply here to visit. I was wrong to quickly assume she would cause havoc. No charges will be pressed either as it was our own fault for instigating a retaliation from her.

A man on one of the beds with bandages wrapped around his face spoke.

Steve: I said I was sorry!

Ozpin: Well sorry doesn't fix broken ribs now does it Steve!?

Glynda let out a sigh, silently thankful that she wasn't around for the initial confrontation.

---

July 31, 2021

(Sorry about the late response but Work happened. Anyways here she is Lachaira Arc! I always like the idea of Jaune's mom being some kind of Faunus, it's just skipped a generation, plus I just like a lady that can kick ass one moment but be all sweet the next.

Kinda like Quetzalcoatl from the Fate series.

Anyways, hope this was sufficient enough so have a great day and thanks for the ask!)

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #lie ren #glynda goodwitch #professor ozpin #Lachaira Arc #ask

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imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

Text

Find The Way Home (Part 2)

(Part 1)

~Later that night~

Thomas trudged into his house, letting the door click softly and locking it before hanging his boleadoras on the hook by the door—something he’d gotten so used to doing out of habit, it was practically a reflex—so that his parents knew whether he was home or not. He could feel his drowsiness deep in throat, threatening to become a yawn.

He hadn’t realized how tired he was, how little he’d slept these past weeks, until the adrenaline rush from the battle had suddenly come crashing down. Thomas walked past the drawing room and found his parents, laughing over something.

Both had taken off their gear and changed into something more comfortable. Sophie’s knees were bent over Gideon’s legs, their heads bent towards each other’s. Gideon seemed to have a photo album on his lap.

Shadowhunters didn’t take many pictures, because it wasn’t customary, so the book was rather small. Nevertheless, Thomas’ parents were flipping through slowly, stopping at every picture to point out the events of that year.

It would have seemed like an intimate moment, if Thomas didn’t know any better. His parents, no matter what, always wanted to spend time with their children. He knew his parents loved him and his sister so much that they would do anything to keep them safe. They always reminded him that they loved him, no matter what. He knew he could tell them he loved men, and that his parents would embrace that part of him, and tell him they loved him, but Thomas still had difficulties in telling them. There had been so many times that he had opened his mouth with full intentions of telling them, and then closing it again. His mouth couldn’t form the words, he couldn’t speak; it was as though his throat had become honey, and the words he wanted to say got stuck in it.

But now, he was too exhausted to even think about telling them anything. He was too exhausted to think. He leaned against the doorway and must have made a loud noise, because both Sophie and Gideon looked up.

Sophie smiled at him. “Your sister said she was off to bed, though I suspect she’s gone off to read or knit. I’m afraid she finds our company dull.”

“You’re not dull.” Thomas said, his words slurring together, unintentionally.

Sophie shook her head, shifting so that her feet rested on the floor. “You’re too kind. But, Thomas, darling, you look exhausted; you’re swaying on your feet. Come here before you fall.”

Normally, Thomas would have argued that he was fine, but tonight he was far too tired to do anything but trudge over to his parents and fall back onto the couch beside Sophie.

He rested his head on her shoulder. Sophie put an arm around him and kissed his head.

“He hasn’t slept well in a while, has he?” Gideon said.

“I’m afraid not.” Sophie said. “He might have to be carried off to bed.”

“I’m still awake, you know.” Thomas mumbled.

“Perhaps not for long,” Gideon said.

Thomas could feel Sophie snicker quietly. “We were just looking at the pictures we have of you and your sisters.”

“I remember that one.” Thomas said, pointing to one at the upper left hand corner. It was the three of them with their Lightwood cousins, Anna and Christopher. Barbara and Eugenia had twin toothy grins while Anna’s looked mischievous. Thomas and Kit were sitting on the ground in front of them, playing with the grass. Christopher had been moving, so he was a blur in the photograph. “Kit fell into the pond that day.”

Gideon burst out laughing. “How could I have forgotten about that?”

“And then Gabriel had to jump in after him because, naturally, Christopher couldn’t swim. And when he came back, dripping wet, Aunt took one look at him and said ‘it’s a bit late in summer to be going for a swim, is it not?’”

Sophie wiped her eyes from laughing too hard.

“Never a dull moment with your cousins.” Gideon said.

Thomas smiled and looked down at the photo album again.

“The day before this one, Eugenia was so angry that she threw Bab’s doll out the window and she cried for days.” Thomas felt his throat close a little bit at that one. The memory of his sister still made his throat close up.

“Those crazy girls.” Sophie said, rubbing circles into Thomas’ back. “Their shenanigans made me loose years of my life I will never get back.”

Suddenly, the telephone rang, which would have startled Thomas awake had he not been too tired for his body to react. Gideon got up. “I’ll get that.”

Thomas barely registered what Gideon said, now leaning heavily on Sophie’s shoulder. She slowly guided him to lay his head on her lap as she stroked his hair back.

“Was the mattress in The Sanctuary too small?” Sophie asked.

“It was fine.” Thomas said.

Sophie laughed. “You can tell me the truth. I won’t tell anybody.”

Thomas sighed and smiled sleepily. “It was a little bit too small.”

“A little bit too small by normal human standards or Tom standards?” Sophie said. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear the smile in her voice.

“My calves may have been on the floor.”

Sophie chuckled. “You’re too tall, darling.”

“I know.”

She bent down and kissed his cheek. Thomas liked his mother’s kisses. Her scar went from the tip of her mouth and stretched across her face. When she kept it at a neutral, her mouth was able to fully close, but when she pressed her lips forward to give a kiss, the corner pulled back slightly, which meant that Thomas could only really feel one side of her mouth. It was silly to describe, but it was distinct in a way that he could only associate it with his mother.

When he was younger, the boy his age would ask him what it was like to have a mother with such a hideous scar on her face. They always wanted to know if it ever scared him, which used to confuse Thomas. The scar was a part of his mother’s face; he never really thought much of it because it has always been there. He didn’t think it was hideous because he loved his mama and she won’t be his mother without her scar.

“Did you hit your head?” Sophie asked, feeling the small bump on his head, which was a little bit tender to the touch.

Thomas fought the urge to laugh. He had hit his head, but he didn’t want to tell his mother how. Even if she knew about Thomas and Alastair, he wouldn’t have wanted to tell her about about that, tell about. Things. Head. Alastair…

Thomas’ thoughts were turning into soup. He couldn’t concentrate on anything.

“Tom?”

“Hm,” he said softly.

He found it hard to remember where he was or what he had been doing as his eyes shut closed again, against his will.

“Sleep Thomas, darling.” Sophie said lightly. “I’ll make sure everything is alright.”

It’s like his body was waiting for permission to sleep because immediately after she said that, Thomas fell into a state of deep sleep.

He dreamt of nothing. Even his mind was too tired to conjure up a single thought. He just slept until he woke up again to hear his parent’s voices. His throat felt like honey, and he felt the urge to stretch his limbs, but he resisted it.

“Remind me again how we’ll kill the inquisitor?” Gideon was saying

“Slowly.” Sophie said calmly. Her calloused hands were still stroking Thomas’ hair and occasionally brushed his cheeks. They were so gentle he found it hard to believe that they were the same hands that fought off dozens of automatons at once. “And I’m sure we can get the rest of the family to join in as well.”

“There’s no doubt about that.” Gideon mumbled. “We can even get Henry to use his staff.”

“It’s been such a long time since I’d seen him fight. It brought me back to when I was younger. He and Charlotte would always patrol together.” Sophie said, sighing.

Thomas didn’t need to open his eyes to know she was resting her head on Gideon’s shoulder.

“Yes, I remember. Though I can’t say I heeded them much attention; I only remember scowling at my father. It’s strange how time goes by.”

Thomas never heard much about his Grandfather Benedict. Gideon didn’t like talking about his father, nor did Gabriel. Thomas was very familiar with the story of how they defeated him when he was a worm, but he knew little to nothing about Benedict when he was still human.

“Now that James is married, we have an extra family member.” Sophie said.

“We should get Alastair too, he fought well today. Like a part of the family.”

Thomas’ eyes flew open, which startled Sophie, causing her to jump in her seat.

“Goodness, Thomas. Did you have a nightmare?”

“No! I was just eager to wake up.”

Gideon and Sophie looked down at him with twin expressions of confusion and skepticism.

Thankfully, he was saved by the opening of the parlor. However, that relief was then masked with confusion when he was who came in.

“Aunt Cecily?” Thomas said, sitting up.

Gideon sat up, rigidly. “Is something wrong with Gabriel?”

“Oh, no. Heavens no.” Cecily said quickly.

Thomas swore he saw his father sigh in relief.

“I came here for something else.” Cecily looked a little bit breathless. “Lucie hasn’t stopped by here, by any chance, has she?”

“No,” Gideon said, standing up. “Why? What’s the matter, Cecy?”

“She’s gone.” Cecily said, pale.

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#Thomas lightwood #sophie lightwood #gideon lightwood #eugenia lightwood #barbara lightwood #the last hours #tlh fanfic #tsc fanfiction #tsc fanfic #thomas lightwood fanfic

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