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the-kr8tor · 2 months

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Sink or Swim II

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 13 II >>> CHAPTER 14

The air gets warmer as Collette giggles next to you. Arm in arm, John leads the way with a pout from the teasing his sister is throwing at him. Literally, she throws hazelnut shells at him. It sticks in his curls, he shakes his head as shavings of browns fall off like snowflakes.

“I am about to say a rude word,” he says through annoyance.

“Say it!” Collette giggles again, ragging on her brother.

“You f—” John pauses, the three of you stop right in front of the manor. “What's all this?”

A dozen or so carriages are parked up front, filled to the brim with flowers and crates upon crates of ingredients. The smell of saffron and citrus hits your senses. The staff busy themselves with unloading the supplies, frantic feet skedaddling in and out of the manor.

“Are we having a party?” you ask, tilting your head at a peculiar yellow spiky fruit.

“Guess so.” John scratches his head, “why didn't they take the back entrance?”

“Maybe they're in a hurry?” Co utters next to you, already leading you inside as you stare curiously at the weird fruit.

“It’s a pineapple, dear cousin. Come on, you'll miss breakfast.”

“Whatever this party is for, mother and father are going all out.” John sighs out, following close, dodging a staff member holding a tray with hundreds of plates stacked on it.

You have an idea on what this party is for, or who it's for. But you wish that's not the case.

Entering the dining room, your uncle sits at the head of the table, hands cradling his heavy head, groaning loudly at the noises just outside the room. Your aunt seems unbothered, eating her plate of fruit silently.

They don't look up when their children greet them both. They only nod in their seats, not even bothering to look at them. You feel bad for the siblings but they don't seem to be concerned by it at all.

“Sit next to me please!” Collette chirpily says, patting the seat next to her.

The dining room is huge, fitting well with the rest of the manor. Narra floors and numerous paintings adorn the old walls. The table is the longest one you've ever seen, strong mahogany standing the test of time.

As you sit down on the plush seat, your aunt spares you a pointed look. More than what she gave her own children.

“Where's Miguel?” You bravely ask above the silence. “And Lyla?”

Frederick rubs harshly at his face before staring you down with his hungover eyes. “Miguel went out on a walk. And who's the other one?”

“Nevermind.” You take a breath.

A man dressed impeccably in a fancy suit, stands next to you. He clears his throat, looking at you through his nose.

“How do you like your eggs…” he thinks for a moment. “...my lady?”

“Oh,” you're suddenly nervous as the whole table waits for your answer with bated breath. “What are my options?”

“Everything.” He flatly says, hands tucked behind his back.

John looks at you across the table, mouthing something. You don't understand what he's trying to say to you, it looks like he's trying to say ‘collette’ or ‘goblet’ by the looks of it.

You shake your head and say, “I'll have an omelette.”

“Very good, my lady.” He says as he walks out with measured steps.

John subtly gives you a thumbs up, and you have no idea why.

Frederick chokes on nothing. You think he's about to get sick but he chugs water before he can. He blinks rapidly like he's trying to wake himself up.

“Oh,” he says, only now noticing his own children in the room. “Where did you two go off to?”

“The birds, with Y/N.” John monotonously says while he stabs his egg.

“That time of the year huh? I haven't noticed.” Frederick’s words falter.

Collette clears her throat. “Y/N told us about her time at sea! She's very brave.”

“She got shot.” John continues for her with a proud smile.

In truth, you told them just the tip of the iceberg. Not even half of it, you spared all the important details of it, names of people and places, the cruelest parts of it and the crew you've come to see as family and him. You excluded him in the story because you promised to him a long time ago that you'll keep his and the crew's secrets. You intend to honour it until you're in the grave.

“Oh I've heard,” your aunt says in a stiff tone.

“You know I've once encountered pirates.” Frederick says whilst he picks at his fruit. “While I was sailing the hazelside ship, they were a rowdy lot. Rowdier than I am!” He exclaims, “in the end, father didn't pay for my ransom so they just brought me back to the docks after three weeks.” Chuckling, his face falls at the memory. “Well anyway, we have a ship gathering dust in the capital’s docks. She's a beut! You might appreciate her more, dear niece.”

You inhale sharply, tucking the information in the back of your mind. “What is she called?”

“The Osprey.”

“We've only been aboard once, and we didn't even sail!” Collette recalls. “Maybe you can sail it with us!”

John grins excitedly, “yes! That would be amazing!”

“No.” Their mother says before you could say anything. “It’s too dangerous. The waters are plagued by pirates and god knows what.” Her daughter’s face falls. “No.” she says for emphasis.

Your omelette arrives, the butler gives you a nod and your eyes almost bulge out of its sockets at how appetizing it is. The egg is fluffy, cooked to perfection with cheese melting inside. Vegetables and meat are tucked aplenty, you can't help but dig in immediately.

As you gorge yourself, the conversation has ceased. The noble family are eating quietly, no words exchanged, not even an awkward one. Not when their mother dearest glares at her pomegranate.

You finish off your omelette, and a bowl of pomegranate seeds is laid in front of you, replacing the finished plate. Remembering the last time you ate it, and how the juice ran down your arm as he ate next to you, as his warmth spread through you.

Now you're the one frowning at the fruit.

So instead of eating it, you rekindle the conversation. “Are we having a party?”

With your question, Frederick perks up at the mere mention of it. As if he's not suffering from a hangover, he claps his hands together, a grin spreading across his lips.

“Yes! The party, oh I almost forgot!” He beams at you. “It's for you, remember? Back at the palace?”

“I didn't know you were serious.” You chuckle nervously. A party full of aristocrats is the last thing you want or need.

“Oh, I'm at my most serious when I'm drunk!” He guffaws loudly, “we're introducing you to society! It has to be huge—!” Your uncle pauses, his eyes look behind you, his smile faltering slightly, mouth clamping shut.

“What's this about a party?” Miguel stands behind you, freshly pressed dress shirt tucked neatly inside his pants, hair damp and eyes fully rested. He's the exact opposite of you who hasn't rested a wink. Nodding a greeting at you, he places his hand on the back of your chair. “Sleep well?” He asks like he can't see the tiredness under your eyes.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod.

“Liar.” He winks at you teasingly. Turning towards your uncle, his face turns flat. “Frederick, what party?”

“Just a little get together, O’Hara, nothing fancy don't worry.” he chuckles, hiding from Miguel's stare behind his cup of tea.

Miguel grumbles, chest rumbling at the thought of you surrounded by strangers. Leaning down, he asks you politely. “May I speak with you?”

Looking at him in the corner of your eyes, you speak with a tone that Miguel could only describe as annoyance and with the exact same tone as an angry teenager who didn't get what she wanted.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Always, Y/N.”

“Hmm, of course I do.” You mockingly say. Standing up, you leave the table and the uneaten pomegranate. There's eyes on your back, it's better than knives.

Miguel leads you outside and into an empty sitting room. The entire room is purple, lilacs spread around the room from the settee to the curtains.

“What is it?” You swivel on your feet to turn to him with your arms crossed on your chest.

“A party?” He asks, exasperated.

“Hey, I'm not the one who planned this, Miguel.”

“I know you didn't.” Sighing, he plops himself down on the fluffy settee. “It's just bad timing. I can't be there tonight and the next day.”

You stare at him with wide eyes. “What? You can't leave me here. I just got here, and you promised.”

He's leaving you in the vultures’ den. Granted, your cousins are nicer than you thought they'd be, but you can't say for sure for your aunt and uncle; moreso for all the strangers that will visit tonight. Wrong timing is an understatement.

“I haven't been home in years, Y/N.” Miguel avoids your eyes, he doesn't see the fear in them. “I promised my staff that I'll be home for a couple of days to settle my estate and affairs. I haven't seen to any family matters in a long time. I haven't visited my daughter.”

You sit across from him on the coffee table. Elbows on your knees, ducking down to look at his downturned face.

“You'll be back?” You clearly distrust the man to a point, but he's the only person you know well enough in the entire estate. You don't want him to leave because what if he doesn't come back? What if the nobility eats you alive tonight?

He lifts his face to give you a soft smile, understanding your fear underneath your words. “I'll be back, I promise. I'll only be thirty minutes away, so if you really need to see me you can always get on horseback and come visit me within fifteen.” That eases you a bit. “Besides, I'm leaving Lyla with you, just in case. Mudwood manor is always open to you, Y/N.”

“Alright…just— what do I do? Tonight I mean?”

“Just smile and tell your stories. Feed them bullshit if you want to, just don't let their pompous asses get to you, hm?” He pats your bicep. “Can you survive a couple of days without me?”

“Yes, I think so.” You shrug shakily. “I’ll just tell them the story of how I almost got eaten by a sea monster. I'm sure that's interesting enough.”

Miguel laughs from the belly, the sound bouncing off the purple walls. “That's the kind of bullshit they'd eat up.”

“...sure, bullshit.” You clam up. “Just come back?”

“I'll be back, I promise. I'm not leaving you here alone. Your mother will haunt me to death if I do.” Smiling at you, he pats your head before standing back up. He walks towards the door, he turns back, grinning ear to ear. “I left a present for you in your room. I heard you didn't like the color last time. See you in a couple of days, Y/N.”

With a wave goodbye, he leaves the room. You groan audibly, putting your head in your hands, rubbing the heels of your palms on your eyes until little specks of dust appear in your vision.

You need sleep, maybe it's best that you do before you attend the shit show tonight.

—

Even with your protest, the handmaidens assigned to you scour you clean in the opulent tub. They scrub and scrub until you feel like your skin is about to fall off the bone.

Now clean and free of any grime, you smell like any rich noble could be— strong flowery scent from the numerous spritz of perfume and heavy citrus from the soap they used.

The stockings itches, the corset pinches, making you want to run and get naked in the woods instead. But after seeing the beautiful ruby red gown Miguel gifted you, you feel all the ache from the intense scrubbing fade away. Just a tiny bit anyway.

As you stand in front of the large mirror, you finally see your whole self. All lace and silver ribbons. All elegance and none of the person you once were. You suddenly feel like you're staring at a different person. Drowning in red, and jewels that would have fed you during the times you starved on the road.

“I look like a very large apple.” You say out loud. Your handmaidens stifle a giggle. The dress is so wide that you have to place your hands above it. If you sat down, the dress could probably eat you up.

The women bow at you, stopping them halfway with a frantic wave of your hands, they still do it. You don't blame them for it.

As they leave you alone in your room that makes you feel small, you admire the silver bangle in your arm. The accessory is in the shape of a bird, wings stretched around your wrist, face facing you, beak poking your skin slightly.

You suddenly have an idea when you feel for the pearl that you hid inside your corset. Fishing for it like you hid money down your bust, you take out the dark pearl. It still shines in the low light of the oil lamps. Taking a red thread your handmaids used to fix the fit of the sleeves better, and a pair of scissors, you craft a necklace made from the thread and the pearl.

Tying the thread around the dark pearl using the same knot that James and Hobie taught you, you finish it off by doing it twice around the pearl to secure it properly. Tugging and testing the strength of the three threads woven together, you gingerly tie it around your neck.

It sits prettily atop your clavicle next to your mother's golden necklace. You think it fits well together.

With a soft smile and a sob rising above your chest and a deep inhale, you close your eyes while patting the necklaces in one hand, and in the other, you feel for the dagger hidden inside your stockings.

You could cry but there's a sudden knock at your door. Lyla comes inside the room with a curious look. She whistles, ogling your form.

“I knew you look better in red, because christ, I think I'm falling for you, your grace.”

“Stop,” you look at her through the mirror. She wears a dark blue dress, lace adorning her front and sleeves. Silver stars placed around her neck and ears. “I could say the same for you, Lyla.” You tease back.

“Oho!” She saunters over to you, heels clacking on the polished floors. Placing her cool hands atop your bare shoulders, she coos, “our duchess knows how to flirt back. Guess you do learn everything from the streets.”

You roll your eyes, “I didn't learn that in the streets, Lyla.” Scoffing, you shove her hands off. “You just remind me of someone.”

“Aww,” she pouts. “And here I thought we had something.” Giving you her arm, she smiles genuinely at you. “Ready to wow them, Y/N?”

“God no.” You still take her arm.

—

There's a lot of people, a sea of finely dressed nobles clamoring to talk to you. Amidst the crowd gathering around you, there's a few of them who sneer and turn their heads away from you. They hold their drinks like it's about to shatter in their hands, grips strong and clearly annoyed at the newcomer, who in their minds is trespassing in their small circle of nobility.

You turn down numerous drinks since you want to be ready in case something happens. Or someone doing something they might regret once they see the steel of your dagger.

Miguel was right, entertaining them with stories gets their attention away from questioning you with unsavoury queries. After the sixth crowd hearing the ‘fake’ story of the sea monster, they've dwindled out, finding something else to entertain themselves with.

Lyla filters through the people who want to dance with you. She turns down every person she deems unworthy of your hand. Which is most of the people in the entire ballroom.

Underneath all the stuffiness of the event, the gorgeous ballroom is a pleasant surprise. The ancient walls are decorated with lit candles that dance with the music. There's flowers in every table and corner, it helps mask the scent of cigars filtering through the air. The music crescendos as the dancers in the middle finish off with a twirl and a hop. Their dresses whoosh and flap as they bounce, tulles swishing and heels clacking.

You sip at your glass of water, letting the ice inside cool you down. With the amount of people inside the ballroom, it's getting hard to breathe. You're glad that you planted yourself near the balcony where the breeze outside helps you from passing out from the warm air.

Shaking your now empty glass, the ice clinking inside, you huff. Lyla notices the sound and she promptly takes it from your hand before the condensation drips on your expensive dress.

“Be right back, don't move.” She says, wagging her finger at you.

“Wasn't planning on it.” you say above the loud chatter of the crowd and the music from the orchestra, but not loud enough for the people to notice you unattended.

But someone does notice, he comes walking towards you with wide strides and with a wide smile. He bares a striking resemblance to the king, ash blond hair perfectly coiffed, suit perfectly fitted to his broad form.

You don't notice him at first because you have been watching Colette dance circles around the crowd. Her lilac dress dances with her, the flowers in her hair adds to her beauty. John secretly keeps a watch on her too, he stands near the dessert table, mouth full of macaroons, hand occupied with a flute of champagne.

The stranger escapes your attention. With a tap on your elbow, you almost unsheathe your dagger at the man.

“I'm sorry,” he smiles politely. “Didn't mean to scare you, my lady.”

“Who are you?” You feel for the dagger with your hand above your dress.

“Viscount Eugene Thompson, my lady.” He takes your hand, pressing a kiss above your knuckles. Staring up at you through his lashes, lips still near your hand, he smiles, a smile that could make anyone fall to their knees. But you've seen better. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Thank you?” You nervously glance towards Lyla who's currently eating an entire plate of cream puffs. “How may I help you, viscount?”

“A dance, perhaps?” Leaning away, Eugene waits for your answer. “You haven't been dancing and I've seen you watch the dancefloor with longing. I'm here to remedy that. If you'd do me the honour.”

“Uh… I have a bad leg that is currently not for dancing.”

“I'll help you,” Eugene squeezes your hand softly. “You can stand on my shoes and I'll dance for you. It's bad enough that you can't dance in your own party.”

No one comes to your rescue, meanwhile Lyla is scarfing down all the pastries on the dessert table.

With a deep inhale, you smile politely. “Sure, why not.”

Eugene beams at you like he won first place at a pony show. Guiding you towards the dance floor, you once again feel eyes on you.

“Take my hand, put your feet up on mine, and I'll do the rest.” He whispers softly to you.

With a nod of encouragement from (surprisingly) your aunt, you take his hand and the other placed behind his neck. Carefully and blindly feeling for his shoes, you stand on top of the leather that squishes under your weight. Chest to chest, he looks down at you with his sparkling eyes. Did you have a choice in this? Or did he back you into a corner? You guess you'd never know as he glides around the dancefloor whilst you let him carry you around effortlessly.

There are worse partners to be had in this situation.

“So, duchess—”

“My life at sea was tumultuous but rewarding and I learned a lot of lessons from it.” You recite the script you prepared for yourself.

“Not what I meant, my lady.” Eugene chuckles, “I was going to ask how you're faring in all of this. It must be…a lot.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel embarrassed in front of the charismatic stranger. “It’s a lot, but I'll get used to it, viscount, don't worry about me.”

“Please call me Eugene or even Thompson, just don't call me viscount. It makes me sound old.” He laughs, it's light and honest. The sound fills you with ease.

You smile, “just don't call me duchess or my lady and I'll do just that.”

“As you wish, my la— Y/N,” he tests your name on his tongue. “I can't help but worry, you know. I just inherited my title so I know how it feels. Granted it's not exactly the same but I'm here if you need someone.”

“That’s— thank you, Eugene.” You smile genuinely, he squeezes your hands once, the act flinging memories back into your mind.

“Are you alright?” He asks, concerned. “You look like you're about to cry, is it your leg?” Stopping right in the middle of the room, he flits his eyes all over your face and twitching eye.

“No— I…”

“May I have this dance?” A familiar voice asks, and you feel like you're dreaming, suddenly floating through the clouds as your ears perk up from his voice.

Slowly, you crane your neck to look at him. You swear your heart stopped beating but the mere sight of him brought it back to life.

Hobie gives you the smile he reserves just for you, soft and endearing, all love and affection under the grey eyes you've come to love.

“I think she's done for the night—” Eugene tries to finish but you cut him off once you see Hobie's outstretched hand.

“Yes,” you say quickly. “Yes, you may.” Stepping off Eugene's shoes, you take Hobie's hand without sparing the other man a glance.

In your peripheral vision, you see Eugene smile through his annoyance. But your entire attention goes to the man whose hand you're currently holding, whose hand fits perfectly in your grasp.

“What are you doing here?” You say tearfully, voice breaking. The music hides your cracking voice and the crowd hides your unshed tears.

His calloused hands holding you aren't but a memory anymore.

“‘m sorry, I know you told me not to follow but—”

Laughing, you finally feel whole again. “Captain,” you say it with your whole heart. “Is it bad that I'm glad you did?”

“No,” Hobie lifts you up by your waist to place you atop his own shoes. His hand never left your waist as he dances with you. Letting your warmth fill his entire being, he resists the urge to take you away from the prying crowd. “It's not bad. Did you miss me, scuttlebutt?”

“Aye, I did.” You mumble, but you say the words truthfully. “Why are you here, Hobie?” Uttering his name audibly fills you with glee. “Not like I don't want you to be but—” you finally now notice his fine garb.

With a once over, you ogle him. The suit looks like it's tailored for him, cinching his waist perfectly. Even his shiny leather shoes fit him right. The red waistcoat matches your dress. The dress jacket covers his arms, you silently wish it didn't. A rose is pinned on his lapel, he smells of burgundy and sea salt. Home, you thought. You do miss the leather though. A well placed tophat on his head helps conceal his recognizable hair. You wish to see it again.

You haven't seen him dress like this the entire time you've known him. And based on his stories, he has never worn anything like it either.

He looks good, incredibly good in it, but you know him. And you know that he doesn't feel good in it.

Hobie admires you whilst you do the same. He feels like the fishbone stuck in his throat has finally gone away now that he can finally see you close, touch you and talk to you like he used to. Underneath all the silver and frills, he still sees the real you. But he's prepared to love both.

“You're ogling.” You beat him to it. “Where'd you get the clothes? The hat doesn't do you any favours.”

“A lord something something found himself unconscious after accidentally chugging down absinthe that he thought was gin. In his defense it was dark. He was lucky that I was there to catch him, eh?”

“What?” You giggle, hand kneading at the back of his neck. He missed that.

“It wasn't me though.”

“Sure.” You dress glides as he twists the both of you. Gasping, you hold on to him tighter. “Where'd you learn how to dance?”

“We all have our secrets, love.” Love, oh how you missed that.

“It was Finn, right?”

He sighs, smile still on his lips. “...yes.”

You laugh, placing your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat wash over you. “I can't imagine.”

“I think it's better that you don’t.” He whispers. “Wanna get out of here?”

Lifting your head up lightning fast, you grin widely. “Please.”

“I'm walking out of here in five minutes, join me after three. And tell your bodyguard that you're just going to bed, yeah?”

“Are you finally going to kill me?” You joke, wishing that you could meld closer to him.

“Yes, I've got a pocket of pomegranate seeds at the ready.”

“Alright, wait for me?”

Hobie stops right where you two began. He helps you off with his hands on your waist. His touch lingers there for a second, a second more and it would've caused a scandal.

“Always, love. As long as you're comin'” He leans down, hand holding your own. Kissing your knuckles like a gentleman, his eyes never left yours, eyes crinkling the corners into a subtle smile. “I'll see you outside.”

“Yes.” You say breathlessly.

Hobie leaves, resisting the urge to look back at you.

As you watch his retreating back, your aunt suddenly appears by your side, making your skin jump.

“What—?”

“Who was that?” She commands.

“Lord…” You see a bee buzzing over an apple near the tables. “Applebees. Yes, lord applebees.”

“Huh,” She narrows her eyes, but accepts it as truth anyway. “Never heard of him. Do you know him?”

“Nope.” You act innocently. “Just met him.”

“Hmm, carry on.” Victoria finally leaves you alone.

Weaving through the crowd, avoiding Eugene and other people, you make your way towards Lyla with an excuse that you don't feel so well.

“I can escort you—”

“No need, I've basically memorized the manor now.” A big fat lie on your end. “Enjoy the rest of the party though.” You leave quickly, leaving her to her cream puffs.

—

The night air kisses your cheeks the moment you step outside. Scanning the field and behind the fountain, you see Hobie slink away towards the hedge maze, the top hat discarded just at the entrance. The greenery adds to your excitement.

“Little shit.” You say to yourself as you make your way towards the maze.

Hands lifting up your skirt, the fabric is silky soft and heavy. Yet you practically sprint towards the entrance with a smile despite the cold and spiky grass grazing along your feet. The full moon shines brightly, bronze braziers are placed along the maze, helping you find your way. The smell of dew and grass greets you.

Entering the thicket, you whisper yell for him. “Hobie!”

You jump when he answers somewhere inside the dim maze. “Place your right hand on the right wall, follow it and you'll find me, trouble.” You can hear his smirk through his words.

“You are such an ass!” You say with a giggle, following his instructions. The hedge is rough and pointy under your palm, your other hand is lifting up your dress so you could run faster.

Your leg aches but you don't care enough to notice.

“Hurry so you can beat the shit out of me then!” You now hear him a lot closer now. “Getting warmer, love!”

Huffing, puffs of smoke escape your cool lips. “Oh I'll fucking smack you upside the head.” You hear him laugh loudly at your words. Following the sound of home, you finally make it to the center.

Hobie yanks you immediately, pulling you close to his chest, laughs rumbling his chest as you screech. With a well placed hand on your mouth, you lick at his palm, earning a yelp from the man. Yet he doesn't let you go, instead he hugs you tighter against his chest.

After the laughter subsides and the sound of crickets permeates the air once again, you look up at him, back placed on his steady chest, arms around your torso. You stare at an upside down Hobie. He smiles, breath fanning across your heated face.

“Hello.” Your heart beats louder than a drum with the simple greeting.

“Hi, come here often?” You beam up at him, feeling his muscles relax at the sight of your smile.

“I come here every autumn, how about you?” Hobie pinches your sides, but you barely felt it through the thick corset

“Oh well I kinda live here now.”

“Really? Do I get a discount now?”

“Better, you get to stay here for free.” You stand on your tippy toes to lean further up until the top of your head is perfectly leveled to his lips. Just as planned, he places a feather light kiss that makes you shiver.

Eyes closed, his lips linger atop your skin.

“Are you alright?” Hobie asks, voice muffled by your skin.

“I am now.” You open your eyes to heaven.

He grins, “good,” taking a long breath, he feels like it's the first time he has breathed into you. “That's good.”

“Are you?” Your eyes flashes with worry.

Hobie pushes the thought of the crew leaving him in the void of his mind. “I'm fine, don't worry about me, scuttlebutt.” he turns you in his arms, concerned for the crick in your neck.

Hands splayed over his chest, you feel his heart beating faster. “The crew? Are they alright? No one got caught?”

He nods, cradling your face, noting every difference on your face since he saw you last. Eyes staying on your lips, he resists the temptation.

“Not our first escape. They're nearby and they're alright.”

You exhale, hands sliding up and down, blindly feeling for his skin under all the expensive cloth. It's still him underneath it all, and you're glad.

The dam breaks, thumping your head on his chest, you let out a sob. “I miss them. I miss you.”

“And I, you, love. You have no idea.” As he holds you in his arms, you tell him everything. From how Jessica found you, to how there's a conspiracy against your family.

“Mathias did the deed, Hobie.” He visibly stiffens at the sound of the navy captain's name. “He killed them under the behest of someone more powerful.”

“I know,” you lean away with a raised brow. “I was following you. I'm sorry, I had to know that he wasn't leading you towards your death.” Hobie expects you to yell and get mad at him. Instead you slap his chest weakly with a chuckle.

“Stalker.” You lay his wrinkled dress shirt down gently. “You could've let me know, I can keep a secret.”

“I tried, but I couldn't find an opportunity. You're popular now innit?” He stops your hand, placing his own atop it.

“Just a little bit.”

“I got close once but when I entered your room, you weren't there anymore.”

“I think that's when my cousins called for me—wait, how'd you get in?” Hobie finds your scrunched up face endearing.

“Employee tunnels, there's hundreds of them that connect to each room.” Before you could ask how he knew about them, he beat you to it. “Bribed a handmaiden with one of my necklaces.”

You stare at him with wonderment. “Let me pay you back then.” Untying the necklace you recently made, you place it in his open palm. You intend for him to keep it, in case your reunion is short lived.

Hobie takes it without question. He admires the dark pearl in his hand, the memory of your face after finding it is engraved in his mind.

“Help me tie it?”

You nod with a shy smile, pulse rapidly increasing. “Turn around, cap'n.” He obliges, mirroring your smile. With gentle and tender hands, you tie the red thread around his neck. He turns back around to face you, the pearl shines atop his skin brilliantly.

“Beautiful,” you whisper just to him, his own flustered face is reflected in your shining eyes.

A comfortable silence hangs above the both of you as his hands are placed on your waist, laying there politely. You do the same with your hands around his elbows. The two of you look like you're about to dance with the sound of the crickets as your choice of music.

You expect him to ask you to come with him. To run away and leave the manor, your family's legacy behind. But Hobie doesn't, cannot do that to you, now that you both have the same goal— kill Mathias.

“I’ll help you find whoever killed them, then…” you blink in surprise, heart pounding at his next words. “Come back with me to the mermaid's head? We can find a decent crew there. Then we can avenge them, every single one. After that we can sail wherever you want, see the real world.” His words are genuine, no lie or false hope in his tone. He believes that you and him can do it, do anything as long as you're with him. Gwen and the others are right, he needs to think things through more, and this is his chance to do so.

“You'll stay with me until then?” He nods, eyes serious but full of affection. Breath stuck in your throat, “With what ship?” You ask with a growing smile. Happy that someone finally wants to know the truth with you. Stay with you after so many people have left you.

“We'll find a way, we always do, right?” Hobie squeezes your waist softly. “Or after everything, if you want to stay somewhere, settle somewhere, we can.”

Oh.

“You've convinced me, you had me at ‘wherever I want’” You say, still in disbelief that he wants to stay with you.

You both feel it, the static in the air like lightning is about to strike where you and Hobie stood. He smiles sweetly and you give in.

Leaning in, hands wrapped around the back of his neck, you're prepared to seal the deal with a kiss. Hobie meets you halfway, his lips briefly brushes along yours and it's enough to send electricity through you from his skin alone.

His breath hitches in his throat, chest tightening, affection flowing freely from his fingertips. But before he could properly kiss you, a loud voice calls for you just outside the maze.

You both moved away quickly, flustered faces hiding the giddy smiles you and him both sport. His skin burns while his heart aches. Meanwhile, you can't stop thinking about his lips grazing yours. It'll keep you awake throughout the night.

Lyla yells like someone took her coin. Hobie quickly grabs you by the elbow, pulling you close and then whispering in your ear. His lips brush along the shell of your ear and you shiver from the touch.

“I'm staying at the barn.” Hobie kneads softly at the small of your back, eyes keeping watch at the entrance of the maze. “If you need to see me, there's a tapestry of a unicorn in your room. Flip it away and you'll see the doorway into the tunnels. There will be a fork in the path, take a right and it'll take you outside.” With every word he utters, you melt.

He subtly invites you, and you silently accept with a slow nod.

Backing away when he hears rustling outside, his warm hand remains a second on your heated skin. With a lopsided smile, he turns away.

Fading inside the maze, he disappears into view just as Lyla gets to the center.

“Christ!” She flicks a branch off her hair. “What are you doing here? You said you'd be in bed!”

“I went out for a walk.” Your tone is wobbly. “It's a lovely night for it.”

“Sure sure, you can walk anywhere you want. But come on, not in the ‘murder maze’ Y/N! Miguel's gonna cut my pay if I let you die on my watch!”

“And here I thought you really cared for me, Lyla.” You pout, you're in a good mood. But it could've been better if Lyla didn't show up at the wrong time.

“Pssh, come on, let's get you to bed. It's fucking freezing out here.” She beckons you over, grumbling about being a babysitter.

—

You lay on the soft bed, eyes wide open, arms spread across the large mattress. The blue canopy above you reminds you of the waves on your island. The windows are closed, while the fireplace illuminates the room. Shadows dance in your vision, and you wonder if he's cold.

With a shake of your head, you sit up, gathering enough confidence to visit him. After a minute of slapping your face awake and telling yourself to not be a coward, you finally stand up.

You're in your linen slip, frilly collar and sleeves, white roses adorning the almost see through fabric. It doesn't help much with the cold so you take your robe and hastily put it on. Gathering the thick blanket in your arms, you don't even bother folding it properly as you haul it out of bed to drag the heavy material across the room and into the tunnel entrance.

Stopping by the unicorn tapestry, you flip it open with your foot. A breeze passes by, peeking into the dark tunnel, you bravely walk inside.

You do the same thing like you did in the maze, right hand sliding across the right wall, following it to the exit. Your eyes adjust to the dark, soon after that you can see outlines of the chipped walls. You reach the fork in the path, and just as Hobie instructed, you head towards the right tunnel.

After walking the cool tunnel, you finally make it to a wooden door. It has seen better days, looking like it's about to collapse any second. With a creak, you push it open with your shoulder.

Finally making it outside, you beeline towards the barn. You remember passing it on your way towards the lake, so you strain your ears to hear the sounds of animals, using it as your guide whilst the moon shines a path for you.

The large doors loom above you, it's dark inside based from the crack on the door, a cow moos inside while a horse neighs. With your heart in your throat, you push open the door.

But Hobie flings it open before you could even touch the wood. His eyes are wide, mouth agape, hand trembling on the door. His surprise quickly turns into happiness.

“Can't sleep?” He asks like his legs aren't shaking, threatening to buckle under his nervous self.

“No, I thought you'd be cold.” A lie, in truth, you haven't slept well since you parted ways. “Don't just stand there like a tree branch, help with this.” You practically throw the heavy blanket in his arms. He catches it with an ‘oof’ but his smile stays on his lips. You remember how soft it was.

Hobie pats down the top of the cloth to get a good look at you, he wishes he hadn't for he thinks he died and gone to purgatory.

Your linen slip doesn't hide much as the moonlight perfectly aligns on your back, shining behind you, showing him every curve and dip of your body. The robe doesn't help as it's made from the same cloth, it just adds to his racing heart and rushing blood.

He swears the hay underneath his feet has burst into flames.

“Why are you sweating? It's freezing!” To add to your clueless cruelty, you step closer to him to wipe at the sweat streaming down his temple. “Yuck, Hobie!” You joke with a giggle.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He breathlessly asks, clutching the blanket tighter in his arms.

Your eyebrows knit adorably. “No? I left the dagger under my pillow.”

He clears his throat and his mind, “A-alright. D’you want to come inside?”

“O-oh.” It's your turn to be flustered. He looks beautiful in the low light, it illuminates his best features, which is every part of him in your opinion. “Are your friends alright with you receiving guests?” You tease to hide your current state.

Hobie looks over his shoulder with a laugh. The animals look back at him with blank faces.

“I think they're alright with it, as long as you pick up after yourself.”

“I can do that. I've heard I'm a wonderful guest.” You saunter towards the pen, Hobie’s eyes avoid your backside. “Hi, gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous? That one's new.”

“I'm talking about the horse, Hobie.” He finally looks at you petting the dark horse as the animal snorts in your hand. You giggle, cooing at the docile horse.

“I'm fucking done for.” He whispers lowly, a deep rumble under his chest. Closing the barn door, he tightly closes his eyes with a giddy grin.

“What was that?” You twist around to face him, the horse nudges you, asking for your attention.

“Nothin’” he saves face. “That there is Bernard,” he says while he places the blanket on top of a hay bail. “He's here at the barn instead of the stables because he won't let anyone ride him without bucking them off.”

“How'd you even know that?” You chuckle.

“The stable hand and I are best friends now. He's lettin’ me stay here as long as I stay quiet.”

“Best friends huh? Miles wouldn't like that.” You poke his bicep.

“He'd be devastated.” He jokes back, taking your finger right before you retract it back. Uncurling your fingers, he laces your hand together with his own. Your pulse quickens under his touch.

“Mm-hmm,” you could only say while he looks at you like you found a treasure chest just for him. It's the best you can do really.

“That one is Butter,” He gestures towards the cow staring intently at you like you're made of grass. “Don't try to pet her, she bites.”

“Noted.”

“The goat in the corner eating a shoe is Jack, he likes to ram people.”

“I already like him,” you say through a yawn.

“You can sleep here if you want.”

“As long as I don't share the bed with Butter.”

“Worse, you'll share it with me.”

“Oh that is definitely worse.” You giggle, squeezing his hand. “You drool in your sleep.”

“C’mon, up at the hayloft.” He guides you towards the ladder, grabbing the blanket on the way. “Careful, the second step is loose.”

“I can handle it, expert climber, remember?” Climbing up, you miss the way he averts his eyes.

Finally making it up, you roam your eyes at the small space covered in hay bales. There's a single circular window in the middle of the wall, the light filters through it, shining directly down at the laid out blanket on the floor.

“Nice, you're living in luxury, Hobie.”

He flings the blanket at your feet whilst he still climbs the remaining steps. “Cover yourself up, you'll catch a cold.”

“I’m fine,” your skin is on fire from where he touched you.

Hobie hums, avoiding flitting his eyes over to you where the moon shines a spotlight on you. He feels like he's not gonna survive the night, and you think so too.

Sitting down with a groan, he lays his head on the makeshift pillow filled with hay. It doesn't smell as much as you thought it would be, you wonder if these were fresh hay.

“How'd you get to stay here?” You ask, while you sit next to him. He scooches away to make space for you.

“The bloke knew who I was—”

“What?! What if he—”

“We're good, love. He won't tell anyone, he said I've helped his family once, I barely remember it but he was happy to keep everything quiet. Lie down?”

“Are you sure?” His hand guides you down on the blanket, hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you down. And you let him without apprehension on your end.

“‘m sure, you're not the only popular one. Don't worry about it, yeah?” Hobie grabs the blanket from your arms to lay it on top of you both. “This is nice, just like in the island eh?” He pats your arm.

“Only this time there's no sand in our knickers, just hay.” You lay on your side to face him, he does the same. “Hi.”

“Hello,” he smiles, hand splayed over your bicep. “This is a five star accommodation compared to the island.”

You bravely close the small distance, he's so close to you that you could hear his heartbeat.

With trepidation, you can't hold it in any longer, lest you regret never telling him.

“I love you, Hobie.” Staring at his swirling eyes, you feel yourself shudder. “And I know you only love the part of me that reminds you of her. And I'm alright with that.”

He swallows thickly, hands clammy.

“Don't worry, I've come to terms with it.” You choke back, smiling, accepting.

“I love you anyway.” He whispered in wonderment.

You can't believe his words. Eyes glossy, you shake your head. “Don't pity me—”

“I don't pity you, I love you. I-I may have liked you at first because of the similarities. But that phase has passed, the feeling is still there, it's stronger now.” He says truthfully, hands grasping your own, kissing your knuckles softly as tears flow out of your eyes. “Because I know you, Y/N, your hands are gentle when you sew me close. You give the same softness when you do it to my crew. Your eye twitches when you're annoyed. Your ankle never fully recovered after you twisted it, you talk to me like you fuckin' hate me but you smile at me like you loved me from the start.”

He holds you close, grey eyes calm, tears pooling in the corners. “I love the parts of you too. Similarities or not, I would have fallen for you either way.” With a nervous chuckle, he continues.

“I love you as you, not as MJ.”

With his confession, you sit up and then immediately pressed your lips against his own. He gasps, pleasantly surprised. You brace yourself on his shoulders, whilst he holds you in place by your waist. Lips moving in tandem, teeth clacking, breaths heaving above the sounds of the animals below—everything seems to fix itself.

Hobie holds you like how you hold rain in your hands— gentle and cradling the water like you would seep through his fingers.

You feel him smile through the kiss, it makes you snog him deeper. His fingers grasps at your slip, balling it in his fist, a proof that this is real and not a dream his lovesick mind concocted. Sliding his hand above your nape, he pulls you in closer, deeper and deeper the kiss goes, the less air he has in his lungs.

Reluctantly pulling you off with his hand lifting your chin away, you chase his lips before surrendering. “Fuckin' hell, let me breathe.” He chuckles out.

“Sorry.” You stare at his kiss bitten lips, and the sheer your lips left. “I got carried away.”

“Nah, don't be. I've wanted to do that for a while, you just beat me to it.”

Eyes downturned, nose kissing the tip of his own, you exhale like it's the first time you've breathed. “I'm not trying to replace her, I don't want that. I know she will always stay with you. So, let me ask you this— Are you sure? There'll be consequences.”

“I can handle the consequences. I'll fight the consequences.”

You smile. “We'll fight the consequences. Together.”

Hobie chuckles deeply, chest bobbing up and down, lifting you up and down on top of him. Your heart beats sync, grey eyes staring up at you with reverence, a whirlpool of affection swirling inside.

“I think I've got enough air now, do it again?” He asks like he's asking for a second heaping of lunch.

You nod with a grin, and you dig in.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you liked it! ❤️

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simdertalia · 7 months

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❄️ 🧊 ACNH Ice Set - Part 1 🧊 ❄️

Sims 4, Base game compatible | 33 items | This set was brought to fruition by the lovely Patrons who requested. Part 2 still to come 💗

Type “ACNH ice” into the search query in build mode to find quickly. You can always find items like this, just begin typing the title and it will appear.

Always suggested: bb.objects ON, it makes placing items much easier. For further placement tweaking, check out the TOOL mod.

📁 Download all or pick & choose (SFS, No Ads): HERE

📁 Alt Mega Download (still no ads): HERE

📁 Download on Patreon

Will be public on November 3rd, 2023

Happy Simming! ✨ Some of my sets will be early access from now on. If you like my work, please consider supporting me:

★ Patreon 🎉 ❤️ |★ Ko-Fi ☕️ ❤️ ★ Instagram📷

Thank you for reblogging ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

@sssvitlanz @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @coffee-cc-finds @itsjessicaccfinds @gamommypeach @stargazer-sims-finds @khelga68 @suricringe @vaporwavesims @mystictrance15 @public-ccfinds

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sencubussubs · 4 months

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The Amberlynn Reid Mentality

hi lovelies, this post is going to seem a bit aggressive but some of you need it!

Some of you might know of a youtuber called Amberlynn Reid. For those of you who don’t know her, she is an obese woman who has been documenting her weightloss journey for the last 10 years or so. Amberlynn has been critiqued by plenty of reaction youtubers, she has video essays and iceberg videos all about her, due to all of her *lore*, her personality, the way she treats people etc

But something about her that makes her relevant to Manifestation is her mentality regarding her weightloss journey. You see, other than her victim mentality Amberlynn ends every program she does with this medical mystery mentality, that these things work for anyone but her.

This “everyone but me” womp womp boohoo mentality is something some baby manifestors need to realise they hold and strengthen in themselves every time they ask or talk about:

- but what about my circumstance

- I did this method and it didn’t work

etc

The Law of Assumption is a UNIVERSAL, INALIENABLE law

this means it works for EVERYONE, it does not discriminate, there is no special snowflake that just doesn’t get to do it. This is also because manifestation isn’t some magic wand, it is simply built into us.

There is no circumstance that matters unless you let it matter. The 3d does not control your life, your inner beliefs do, so once you stop taking the 3D as fact and final you will realise that no circumstance can stop you. Seriously i don’t care if you pissed on an SP’s grandma and crashed their car into their house like it does not matter.

As for methods, Sammy Ingram mentions this sometimes but, if you do a method and then immediately go and check your 3D and say “nope it didn’t work” then you are just creating a dominant belief that conscious manifestation (techniques) don’t work for you. (i am saying conscious manifestation because unconscious manifestation is constantly happening lol). Remember that conscious manifestation starts from inside. Let the technique work for you, it is not a magic wand you wave and get what you want, it changes your inner self which is then reflected into the 3D. You can have anything you want, but thanks to yourself not a technique

Conscious manifestation does work for you, and if you have before this hammered into your mind that it doesn’t, then work on that. Affirm to yourself that manifestation is so easy for you, trust yourself or at least the law.

You’ve got this.

Love,

Saph

#law of assumption #manifestation #manifesting #sencubus #loa #loassblog #loassumption #manifestation technique #manifestation techniques #conscious manifesting #manifestation basics

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earth-93 · 11 months

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Mystic’s Musings: New Warriors, the Animated Series

Hey, y'all.

Now that I got the ball rolling on this site, I want to start sharing all my other thoughts and ideas not related to Earth-93 (Though, in the case of this one, it very well might be incorporated into Earth-93 sometime down the line. We'll see). And I figured what better place to start than with the project that not only predated Earth-93, but might have been my earliest, most committed attempt at a fanwork ever: A treatment for an animated series based on the underrated Marvel super-team, the New Warriors.

HISTORY

First, come context, as there is a chance a lot of you might not know the full story.

The New Warriors first made their debut in 1989 in a two-issue arc of The Mighty Thor, where the young heroes sprang into action to assist Eric Masterson in a brawl with the Juggernaut. They would get their own series the following year, developed and written by Fabian Nicieza and drawn by Mark Bagley. Comparisons to the Distinguished Competition's own band of young superheroes have been made over the years, but more than a replication of George Perez's iconic New Teen Titans run, Nicieza described the Warriors as more of a hang-out group who sometimes fought evil and even saved the world: "The New Warriors isn't an official group with a rule book and charter and the like. They're more of a club for super-powered teens. So if Darkhawk wants to hang out on a Friday evening and talk about his powers, then he'll stop by the New Warriors' crash pad."

While the original series had a fairly solid 75-issue run, any attempts afterwards to reboot the Warriors have struggled to find any footing, up to this day. I'm sure you are all well aware of the infamous backlash for the pitch of the newest New Warriors rebrand back in 2020, but you might be surprised to know that was merely the tip of the iceberg for the team's bad luck in continuing their legacy. If not the whole "Snowflake & Safespace" debacle, you probably know of the Warriors as the reckless, fame-hungry super-team who provoked a supervillain into committing the Stamford Incident and kicking off the first Civil War. That and the entire reality show premise of that run was but one of many attempts from the late 90's all the way up into the present to relaunch the team, sometimes with a few founding members but never a full-on reunion, and all have had middling runs if not preemptively cancelled altogether, as was the case for the 2020. This bad luck extends even outside of published comics, with a Squirrel Girl-staring New Warriors live-action series getting canned before it really got off the ground.

The Warriors have existed in this strange comic-book limbo where they can never quite catch a break, yet continue to have consistent enthusiasm backing them to try again a few years down the line. The original run concluded before I was even born, so I was exposed to and became endeared with the Warriors retroactively. Going back to my senior year of high school, I was obsessed with shows like Young Justice and Spectacular Spider-Man. Around the same time, I had come upon the story bibles for Gargoyles and Batman: The Animated Series online, which gave me the drive to try my own hand out at adapting a comic property in the framework of an animated series as a writing exercise. I was too intimidated at the time to write for a big name such as Spidey, not feeling my skill and familiarity at the time was up to the task. I then thumbed through my school library’s copy of the Marvel Encyclopedia, where I first came upon the Warriors. Operating in their own little bubble, not too terribly tied to any major characters or events, they seemed ripe for adaptation, and I slowly collected the original run on eBay. I read the entire first twenty-five issues over one weekend and was hooked. To this day, my friends among fandom spaces know me as the resident New Warriors scholar and defender.

Much like the Warriors themselves, this project has had many stops and starts since its inception. A lot of thought and effort put into it, but never really at any semblance of completion, and almost always back at a time where I was too comfortable with sharing my works with others in the first place. At best, it was more of an idle project to tinker with on my creative off-days, such energy would shuffle around to other endeavors, including what would become Earth-93. But in my boost of confidence with my writing and just wanting to make a habit of getting more material out there, I decided to dust off all my notes and give it a more proper shot. Shout out, by the way, to @spiralcass , whose own #New X-Men: The Animated Series project and minimalist screenplay format lit a fire under me to revisit a similar project.

If this pitch is well-received, it will become the first of a two-part entry; the second of which I will get more in-depth with recurring and supporting characters, as well as an outline to what a figurative first season of storytelling would play out as. But before we get to the cast, allow me to set the stage:

SETTING

The wider world the Warriors live in is early 90's Marvel, full stop. I would like to feel as though we have progressed past the point of making fun of Liefeld's art and can appreciate the quality content in the supposed Dark Age of Comics that existed amid the admittedly still quite embarrassing material that grabs most people's attention when looking back on that era. The Warriors are absolutely an era highlight, and as plotting and research developed the figurative show slowly evolved into a love letter to the Marvel canon as it existed in the early to mid 90's.

That's not to say the art direction to this figurative show would reflect this period or any particular artist, though I would absolutely preserve various designs and specific status quos as homages and signifiers. Reed Richards is rocking a fisherman's vest. Ghost Rider is burning a blue flame. The Hulk can be seen sporting a black tank top, and seems to have gotten his temper under control. Spidey is zipping around in the Ben Reilly suit (Is it actually Ben? We won't know, this isn't Spidey's story). Et cetra.

There will also be two major events prior to the events of the series which will significantly shape the wider world:

OPERATION: GALACTIC STORM

As the Kree-Shi'ar War begins to encroach into the Sol System, the Avengers bring on every active member they have and split into three teams. Two will enter space and sneak into both sides of the alien war to try and diffuse the conflict while one stays behind to protect the Earth. It is a prolonged effort out in space, where every hero fights and negotiates with everything they have, and it all ends up doing nothing when a bio-bomb is released that decimates the majority of the Kree race. Not too long after the heroes discover much to their horror that the bomb as well as the war itself was orchestrated by the Kree's leader, the Supreme Intelligence, who deduced that a mass culling of its people was a necessary action to jumpstart Kree’s stagnant evolution.

This revelation shook the Avengers to their core, and while some just wanted to go home, others refused to leave until justice was served. This faction of Avengers, led by Iron Man, stormed the Supreme Intelligence's base and killed the being in retribution, while the opposing Captain America-led faction stood their ground. The heroes returned home splintered, and returned to find the Earthbound team having fallen into dysfunction.

All of this would have happened less than a year before the Warrior's formed, but it would still radically reshape the superhero community. Cap and Wasp remain leaders of the Avengers proper, holding down a new, more oddball team as many veterans stepped away following Galactic Storm. Some joined Iron Man's Force Works team in California, who took a more proactive mission statement to their duties rather than primarily intervening at the moment of crisis. Others had taken up employment at the recently expanded Heroes For Hire, and a few outright retired.

THE TAMING OF TERRAX

The Sphinx was an immortal wizard who sought to find a means of finally ending his overlong life. He menaced the hero called Nova, believing the Xandarian Worldmind might have the answer to his query, but upon tapping into the vast knowledge of the Worldmind, Sphinx swiftly changed his directive and sought to steal this power for himself and ascend to godhood. Nova failed to fight back against the Sphinx, necessitating the intervention of the Fantastic Four. The Four in turn found themselves bargaining with Galactus to overpower the Sphinx, and the eater of worlds cajoled the heroes finding him a new herald in exchange for his intervention.

Desperate, the Four targeted Tyros the Tamer, the brutal ruler of a small planet, rationalizing he is more deserving of such a fate than others. Imbued with the Power Cosmic, Tyros became Terrax, gaining an incorporeal form that took solid shape of whatever solid matter the planet he strikes down into is composed of. Galactus slew Sphinx, hurling him into a time loop where the immortal’s consciousness would be worn down to almost nothing, and for punishment of bringing both Xandar and potentially the entire universe to the brink, Nova was stripped of his powers and sent back to Earth as an ordinary teenager, Richard Rider.

Just a few years later, Terrax would break free of Galactus’ bonds, and crash into Manhattan, demanding the Four face him, or else he would bring the city down to rubble. It was then that six superpowered youths would take the call to protect New York...

MAIN CHARACTERS - THE WARRIORS

NIGHT THRASHER

Mix:

Fistful of Steel - Rage Against the Machine

Cult of Personality - Living Colour

Bring Da Ruckus - Wu-Tang Clan

Re-Ignition - Bad Brains

Life Goes On - House of Pain

Dwayne Taylor’s comfortable childhood as the son of a philanthropist was violently upended one night when his parents were gunned down in the street right in front of him. Taken in by his father’s war buddy Andrew Chord, Dwayne spent his adolescence honing his body and mind, channeling his grief and rage into becoming the Night Thrasher, New York’s newest costumed vigilante. Initially, Dwayne formed a partnership with the brother-sister duo of Midnight’s Fire and Silhouette, and for a time the three struck out as a trio patrolling the streets of lower Manhattan. A gang bust gone awry left Silhouette critically injured and Dwayne barely escaping with his life from the wrath of Fire, who blamed Dwayne for his sister’s paralysis. Dwayne retreated to Madame Tai, his and Chord’s enigmatic martial arts master, dejected over his failings, to which Tai merely scolded her pupil further before instructing him to lick his wounds and try again.

When he did, Dwayne decided to dream bigger, accessing SHIELD and Hellfire data to find candidates to a super-team that could match the iconography of the Fantastic Four. Dwayne’s candidates understandably did not take well to Dwayne’s method of recruitment, assembling them at a meet-up through vague, threatening messages and testing their skills through direct combat. When Terrax suddenly menaced the city, the quartet were able to put their enmity aside for the sake of others, and through Dwayne’s tactical skills they succeeded in fending off the cosmic threat long enough for the F4 to take him down. The public gave the more famous team with the success over the fight, but none of them could deny they had a synergy capable of great feats. Dwayne propositioned the group once more, this time far less abrasively, and thus the New Warriors officially came together.

Dwayne is steadfast, focused, and wildly competent, though a lot of that is not wholly authentic to who Dwyane truly is. He takes any failure very personally, and has low tolerance for it with those around him. Dwayne starts off treating the Warriors more as soldiers than as teammates, to which most of them manage to tolerate with for their own reasons. This will come to a head part way through the first season, when Speedball’s mother comes under threat by a gang of eco-terrorists, and instead Dwayne is attempting to keep the Warriors on track to his ongoing plans to strike back against Midnight’s Fire. The few people whom Dwayne trusts to be vulnerable with is Chord and Silhouette, who even then Dwayne is more talking at while she remains in the coma her injury left her in. That slowly changes the more he works alongside the Warriors, and finds the affirmation that Madame Tai never provided. As the season goes on, Dwayne uncovers the conspiracy behind his parent’s murder and the devastating reveal of who had been manipulating the direction of his life into the present. With the Warriors’ help, Dwayne fights back, but in that victory he also loses that razor-sharp focus which had largely allowed him to operate through the trauma left unresolved. By the season’s end, Dwayne will pass along leadership duties to Namorita as he takes some time off with Silhouette to more properly find himself.

FIRESTAR

Mix:

Do You Wear The Mark - Danzig

Mary-Christ - Sonic Youth

Velouria - The Pixies

Crush - Smashing Pumpkins

Angels of Deception - The The

Angelica Jones’ mutant ability to generate microwave heat first manifested through the intense grief of her beloved grandmother passing away when Angelica was fourteen. Rather than a certain man in a wheelchair entering the scene, the Jones household was instead visited by Emma Frost, the villainous White Queen of the Hellfire Club but known by the public as the headmistress to the esteemed Massachusetts Academy. Angelica’s father, well-meaning but unequipped and overwhelmed as how to nurture his daughter and her newfound powers, hastily agreed to Frost’s offer to take in Angelica and properly tutor her. Though Emma initially planned to enroll Angelica into her clique of mutant students she dubbed the Hellions, once Emma estimated the sheer scope of Angelica’s microwave powers, she instead took the young girl directly under her wing. Over the course of her adolescence, Angelica was desensitized to violence and had her devotion to Emma solidified through entrapment and emotional and psychic manipulation, all in the service of Angelica being made to be a literal nuclear option for Emma, should her feud with her fellow Hellfire members necessitate it.

Angelica was discouraged from socializing with her fellow Hellions to ensure Emma’s direct control. When a rogue student Emplate fled the Academy, Angelica went against Emma’s orders out of her utter devotion and tracked down Emplate herself. During their fight, Emplate used his powers to unearth Emma’s exploitation of Angelica that had always been in her periphery, but could no longer deny. Her entire world shaken, Angelica was driven into a blind rage and stormed back to destroy Emma’s personal office back at the Academy. She left for home, threatening Emma to never come near her again. Angelica attempted to return to her old life, but the years of abuse had turned the shy but kindly young girl into a sullen and withdrawn teenager, unwilling to let other people in and distrustful and resentful to even her father for allowing Emma to come into her life in the first place. Then came the fateful evening where she came home to an empty house and a vaguely threatening message left by Dwayne. By the end of that night, Angelica was forced to use her powers for the first time in months for the sake of the city.

Firestar might be my favorite characters in the whole team, and I love the backstory that Tom DeFalco had crafted for her after the decision to make her canon to the main Marvel universe. With that said, there was always one glaring thing about her that was one of my least favorable aspects of the original Warrior’s run, and that is that, for the most part, there’s no real impetus for Angel to continue with the superhero life. In both her origin story as well as the first few arcs of the series, she is portrayed as having overcome the trauma inflicted upon her by Emma Frost and is by all accounts a well-adjusted teenager. I always felt what Angel went through would have created far deeper repercussions than her initial depictions would have let on, something that Angel’s more recent depictions in the Krakoa era appear to be aware of.

Committing to that, I decided Angel’s initial arc would be while she is still very hesitant to use her powers offensively even as a hero, she nonetheless agrees to join the Warriors because, at that time, there’s no one else she can confide in how having superpowers has affected her life. Eventually, Emma will reenter Angel’s life and will finally overcome her menace for good, but in the following episode Angel will realize how hollow her victory truly feels, and it will take more than retribution to fix her problems. From this, Angel steadily opens herself up a bit, which in turn allows her to better empathize with her teammates. She can better recognize the pain in Dwayne’s eyes, and how the brutality in his combat might stem from more than a bad attitude. She sees Vance as less of a stuffed shirt and a boy scout, and how his own trauma shaped who he is. And she becomes more receptive to Nita’s efforts at becoming a friend. In effect, Angel becomes a happier, more well-rounded person thanks to being a New Warrior.

NOVA

Mix:

Tear It Up - Queen

Take Me Home - LOUDNESS

Love Gun - KISS

Fire Your Guns - AC/DC

Turbo Lover - Judas Priest

Richard Rider was just an average teenager before he was the unexpected bystander to Nova Corpsman Rohmann Dey’s crash-landing onto Earth. Mortally injured, Dey entrusted his powers and duties of interstellar peacekeeping to the young man, and for the next several Rich years went on high-flying adventures as Kid Nova, the human rocket. One day, however, Rich squared off with a villain far stronger than him, putting both the treasured Worldmind of the Nova Corps home planet Xandar and with it the safety of the very universe. As punishment, Rich was stripped of his rank and sent back to Earth, where he found out his prolonged time out in space left him severely behind on his schooling. No powers and no diploma, Rich is slaving away at a dead-end fast food job when Dwayne leaves his meet-up directions. Unlike Angel or Vance, Rich has no powers to test out against Dwayne, to which Dwayne retorts that his research has led him to believe Rich’s Nova powers are still within him, but as a fail-safe in a life or death situation. With this, Dwayne hurls Rich off the roof, and though Rich does find himself once more encased in his Nova armor, it was not for the reasons Dwayne stated. Rich attempts to fight Terrax on his own, but realizing how rusty he has become, allows the others to assist in spite of the power gap between him and them.

Rich will slowly mature into the seasoned hero some of us know him to be. His time in the Warriors is that awkward middle ground between that and being the plucky new hero on the scene, a broad archetype I like to call the Washed Up High School Athlete. Having fallen so low and then seemingly reclaimed his lost glory, Rich has a bit of an ego about him. Additionally, Rich is inarguably the most experienced in the superhero game than any other Warrior. He’s gone out to space multiple times, has had tons of team-ups with major players, and has had his own robust rogues gallery. Rich’s arrogance, however, doesn’t come from an overestimation of his abilities—no, he learned that the hard way in his battle with Sphinx. Rather, it comes from the flip-side of an insecurity to prove that he’s still worthy of being Nova. He’ll pall around with Speedball, develop a teasing friendship with Justice, and butt heads repeatedly with Thrash. Part of which stems from a desire to lead the Warriors himself, but as he slowly learns humility he will concede that just because he’s the power house doesn’t mean he deserves to be running the show. This is when his bond with Nita strengthens, who previously rolled her eyes at Rich’s flirtations, but shows due respect and encouragement once Rich slowly began to take things more seriously.

JUSTICE

Mix:

Something I Learned Today - Hüsker Dü

Everything Turns Grey - Agent Orange

Outside The Trains Don’t Run On Time - Gang of Four

Life Goes On - The Damned

Lawless - Social Distortion

Vance Astrovik grew up in a lonely household, with his mother having died when Vance was young and his father emotionally distant, unsupportive, and generally scolding and abusive. A chance encounter with a strange man in the park, who advised Vance to “focus” his frustrations, allowed him to first tap his mutant powers of telekinesis. As Vance got older and his father’s abuse became physical, Vance lashed out with his powers before running away from home. Vance enrolled into the Unlimited Class Wrestling Federation, lying about his age and utilizing his telekinesis to imitate super-strength, to make a living on his own. After winning a streak of matches under the persona of “Marvel Boy”, Vance was set up with the UCWF’s highest-profile contender: The one and only Thing, who like Vance was at the time also living a life on the road, struggling to find himself. Seeing the eyes of an angry, tortured young man staring back at him struck a chord with Ben, and he very quickly threw the fight against the promoter’s demands. Ben let Vance use him as a big, stony punching bag to let out all his emotions, and when the match was over Ben approached Vance more earnestly.

With the senior hero’s help, Vance slowly started to get his life back together. Vance went back to New York with Ben, where he split his time between a contract with the Heroes For Hire while also catching up on his missing education. For the first time ever, Vance’s life was stable, and through the Heroes For Hire he was even able to live out his dream of being a superhero, though he longed for the gung-ho adventuring of the profession that didn’t seem to be around in his generation. It was that type of longing that made Vance the most amenable to Dwayne’s proposal, despite his unorthodox method of recruitment. When up against Terrax, Vance was directed by Dwayne to use his telekinesis in a more intangible way, and pooling his powers with Speedball’s, ended up becoming an instrumental force in disarming Terrax and saving the day. Vance’s enthusiasm continued into Dwayne’s second attempt to assemble a team, and was the first one to agree.

Vance is the fanboy of the team, who loves all things superhero. Rather than having the plucky enthusiasm a character like Robbie might instead bring, think of Vance as the type of fan who is somewhat embarrassed or even ashamed to be a fan among his given friend group. He’s reserved and stoic a lot of the time, but the moment he’s in his element or encounters a fellow fan in the wild, a switch just goes off in him and his enthusiasm comes out. Ergo, Vance could potentially be the point of exposition in a given situation (Because he's done the research on his down time) but only if other team members such as Dwayne (The tactician) or Rich (The senior most hero) aren't around to exposit themselves, or might just be drawing a blank on the matter at hand. This close-to-the-vest behavior is extremely indicative of Vance at the beginning. He is reserved yet courteous, bashful yet determined. He believes the most in the Warriors, but because of his fledging confidence never volunteers to actually lead.

He will start the series utilizing his powers more like Superboy, "tactical telekinesis" and all, but the more the series goes along and the more emotionally available Vance becomes, the more his mind becomes open to the more intangible aspects of his powers. Vance is patient towards Dwayne's hostilities, but less so with Rich's braggart behavior. He geeks out over Namorita at first, badgering her with questions over her famous cousin, but learns to reel back and respect Nita as a person and as a hero in her own right. He gets along well with Bobby in their mutual enthusiasm, though Bobby is significantly less mature and far more rambunctious than Vance might prefer. The only team member Vance actively comes to blows with is Firestar. They start out fundamentally disagreeing on helping others being a duty to people with powers such as themselves, but once Angelica’s abusive past comes to the forefront, it allows Vance the ability to unpack the baggage from his own abuse. He apologizes to Angelica for his confrontational attitude from before, and the two develop a bond and understanding unique from the rest of the team.

NAMORITA

Mix:

Train of Thought - a-ha

The Blood - The Cure

Another Part of Me - Michael Jackson

Dazzle - Siouxsie And The Banshees

Raspberry Beret - Prince

The “little cousin” to the tempestuous prince of Atlantis, Namorita is the daughter of Namor’s maternal cousin, Namora--more precise, Nita is her mother’s own genetic clone, conceived in such a way due to Namora’s hybrid physiology rendering her infertile. Namora died when Nita was still very young, killed in a coup against Namor orchestrated by his treacherous cousin, Byrrah. Namor was exiled and Nita was lied to by Byrrah and his conspirators that it was Namor who was the betrayer who left her mother to die. In spite of the loss of her mother and apparent betrayal of her cousin, Nita otherwise had a happy childhood as princess to the Atlantean throne. She was trained in combat by the warlord Krang, educated by the sorceress Llyra, and nurtured by the lady Dorma, all steps made to endow her with the skills necessary to be Byrrah’s eventual successor. Only when Namor returned to Atlantis decades later to challenge Byrrah for the throne did Nita understand the truth of her family, and she gallantly assisted her older cousin in reclaiming his birthright as Atlantis’ king.

Still, the revelation left Nita troubled, and Namor recommended to his little cousin that some time away from Atlantis might help her clear her head. Namor arranged for Nita to live with Betty Prentiss, an old friend of his who had long retired to upstate New York. Nita grew to love Betty as a maternal figure, so much so that she took Betty’s name as part of her surface-world identity. Betty’s health began to fail, but she urged Nita not to hold herself back on her part, stressing that she was ready to brave the rest of the world. Nita was living in New York as a part-time college student, part-time sidekick to Namor’s new adventures, the day Terrax attacked the city. Though she was not among Dwayne’s initial recruits, she charged in and fought the good fight regardless, and it was her mastery in the water which barred Terrax from recomposing his physical form long enough for Rich to absorb his Power Cosmic directly and launch Terrax back out of the atmosphere.

Out of all the Warriors, Nita is the one who comes in the most put-together. She’s the oldest—literally. Despite physically and mentally still being around college-age, by non- Atlantean conditions she is in her 40′s—and unlike the others she joins the Warriors not out of a claim for fame or fill some existential void, but because she thought it would be fun to have a group of super-teens to become friends with. In the team’s earliest outings, Nita’s fun-loving nature comes off as flighty and vicarious to some, but as the Warriors grow more seasoned Nita demonstrates repeatedly how dedicated she is. When the chips are down, she does not make light of the crisis at hand, and is swift and unforgiving in her actions. The two big things that get under her skin are deception and not properly valuing the loved ones in one’s life.

Nita is transparent and unapologetic in who she is, but that’s not to say she has all her issues of self-esteem squared away. Even in her time in Atlantis as next in line for the throne, there was always a pervasive contempt aimed at Nita, for no fault of her own than that she shared the pale skin of the betrayer, Namor. Additionally, later on Nita will discover the nature of her conception which will briefly throw her into an identity crisis, fretting on whether or not she is a “real” person. She constantly brings her other team-members up, yet rarely asks them to do so for her. So when Dwayne steps down by season’s end, it’s not Nita who volunteers to fill his role as leader, but her friends and teammates who rally behind her.

SPEEDBALL

Mix:

Stand Together - Beastie Boys

Molly’s Lips - Nirvana

The Farther I Go - Mudhoney

Lexicon Devil - The Germs

Scenario - A Tribe Called Quest

Slacker Robbie Baldwin was working late at his custodian job at a local research laboratory when he became an accidental witness to an illegal testing of experimental energy. Robbie was bombarded with this kinetic energy, endowing him with extraordinary powers, not only generating and projecting this energy but also using it to launch and propel his own body as a kinetic force, all while his body is rendered immune from physical harm. After making a splash in his hometown of Springvale, Connecticut as the local hero Speedball, Robbie decided to strike out in the superhero capital, New York City, only to quickly realize he was a big fish in a small pond. He even attempted to make a big splash to impress the Avengers and talk them into taking him in, only to be politely but firmly rejected by Captain America himself. Robbie was nearly ready to pack it in when he just so happened to be in the city on the day of Terrax’s attack. Though at first Robbie sought to distract Terrax and keep his rampage out of the way of civilians, he rolled with Dwayne’s direction to combine his powers with Vance’s, which gave a massive blow to Terrax’s physical form and won the heroes an edge that helped to secure the fight.

At sixteen, Robbie is the youngest of the Warriors, and by every measure the least experienced and most immature. That excitement manifests in his powers, to which Robbie has to actively exert himself to calm down and lessen his generation of kinetic energy. In his earliest outings back in Springdale, Robbie was more a showman than a proper superhero, and that class clown persona carried over as a New Warrior. Next to Namorita, Robbie is the one with the most unabashed excitement towards being a superhero, and through that ends up becoming the heart of the team. His pluckiness allows him to easily chum it up with Rich and Nita, and his light-heartedness shines through to even the most jaded members of the group, such as Angel and Vance. He’s the biggest wild card for Dwayne, but keeps him on board for his untapped potential, a call that brings Dwayne to blows with Chord and Tai, one of many as the Warriors continue to operate.

Dwayne volunteers to train Robbie in combat as a compromise with his mentors, an arrangement Robbie isn’t initially receptive to but commits to once he understands how important it is to keeping him on the team. For outside of simply wanting to strike out as a superhero, Robbie seeks any excuse to get out of his house, as his parent’s constant bickering and intrusive opinions on what Robbie should do with his life make Springvale nigh insufferable. Getting to and from the Warriors in New York and his home in Springvale, all while concealing his identity to his parents, is a strenuous to maintain, but Robbie keeps at it. This dedication eventually pays off, granting Robbie a focus and determination that not only allows for a greater application of his powers, but makes him a more capable hero that he would have been without the support of his fellow Warriors.

GENERAL GUIDELINES

The team are rarely all together at once.

This is both a tool to alleviate the burden of handling up to six main characters at once, as well as taking writing cues from previous shows such as Teen Titans 2003 and Justice League in juggling their own large casts. Additionally, I feel like this would help sell the Warriors' status as being a bunch of kids with their own lives and priorities. Dwayne is rich and has his own personal pilot, sure, but Angel lives in New Jersey, and Speedball in Connecticut. Rich and Vance sometimes have their own hero-work to do, as does Nita when adventuring alongside her cousin. The plan is to use this status quo to the story’s advantage, focusing generally on up to two or three characters at a time with every episode, building up on their relationship with one another in addition to individual one-offs. Whenever the Warriors are fully assembled, such as the series premiere or the season finale, it's made that much bigger of a deal.

The team is not trying to replace an established super-team, nor do they regularly rub elbows with more famous characters on a regular basis.

Not to say it never happens, but cameos should be used sparingly, especially for the first season. The Avengers, Fantastic Four, X-Men and Heroes for Hire, and any other big names are all out doing their own things, and so will the Warriors. Team-ups with the F4 and Avengers are planned in this first season, but that and any subsequent team-ups should always happen organically and contribute to the episode’s plot.

Every Warrior starts out incomplete in some way, and becoming a team and befriending one another slowly helps them realize their potential.

Their initial formation, banding together to fight Terrax, happens completely by accident, and not before Night Thrasher attempts to form the team forcibly, hacking the private information of Firestar, Justice and Nova. Even then, there is a period after Terrax’s attack where the group rarely see each other, and some assume it was just a one-off thing. But all six are compelled to work along with one another, and make that initial agreement with Thrash following Terrax’s invasion, based on a very specific shared circumstance: They are all young people with superpowers that have affected their lives, for either good or bad, and they don’t have anyone in their personal lives to relate to or confide in. That’s what keeps them coming back despite in some cases living across the city or whole states apart, and that budding friendship with people they never would have engaged with otherwise helps each member of the team become more complete individuals in the process. That’s the biggest through-line of this series.

#fanfic #comics #marvel #Marvel Comics #new warriors #firestar #nova #namorita prentiss #speedball #night thrasher #90s #fantastic 4 #The Avengers

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paigebstorey · 8 months

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Hi, everyone! Since I have just joined tumblr, I feel like I should introduce myself…

Most writers within the vast world of the Internet know me as Paige Brooklyn Storey, but feel free to call me whatever you want here! I’m not sure what else to say about myself at this time, so I’ll just plan for an ice breaker to be my next post.

In the meantime, speaking of ice, allow me to introduce you all to a crossover that I have actively been working on:

Snowflake in the Sea

This fanfic is a Disney crossover that primarily focuses on Frozen and The Little Mermaid (the animated original, although I plan to write a live action revision once I finish this version). It takes place during main events of The Little Mermaid, but before the events of Elsa’s coronation in Frozen.

In this story, Elsa finds herself thrust into Ariel’s kingdom after her parents are lost at sea, leading to the two princesses becoming friends, although that’s just the tip of the iceberg for now…

For anyone interested in reading this story, I currently have the first 19 chapters posted on the following websites:

I hope you enjoy reading this from whichever source you choose. Reading through the current chapters should take approximately two hours if read in one sitting, but the chapters are relatively short for in case anyone needs a break in-between.

Thank you so much for checking out this post! :-)

#frozen #crossover #the little mermaid #disney #fanfic #wattpad #ffnet #archive of our own #ffn #ffn.net #disney princesses #ao3 fanfic #elsa of arendelle #disney ariel

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kingmaker-b · 11 months

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Abandoned (1)

I really wanted to finish this one, I really did. Though I guess you could probably tell by how much effort I put into the gif itself. Sadly, it suffered from a shift in my writing style and focus. Mainly my realization that while I like media with more physical conflict, it's not translated super well on paper at least with my current skill set.

Word Count: 1.5k

Things had been uneasy in Gotham, turbulence in the sea of crime and violence wasn't unheard of.

But this... this was different. A raging typhoon had brewed underneath the filth and grime. The death of the bat revitalized the weeds of the dark seedy underbelly, growing, moulding Gotham to their twisted designs.

Rain pelted her shoulders, working into every nook and crevice it could.

A familiar neon eyesore sears bright in the horizon, the Iceberg Lounge.

Penguin needed a visit

A deep breath as her fingers coil around her grapple hook, something so familiar, yet so foreign.

Was she ready?

It didn't matter.

Gotham needed a protector.

Her grip tightens, almost forcing a grimace onto her face. Was she worried about living in her successor's shadow?

Surely not.

Her movements, deft and graceful swooping through the sky, a swipe across her wrist guarantees there are no lights on in the lounge.

Fear ripples through her as her feet collide with the skylight, her calves tighten as the glass caves underneath her boots and so does her fear.

Her eyes trace the shattered glass as it flutters like snowflakes through the cold crisp air of the iceberg lounge.

Soft and delicate.

Her cape catches the air at her command and in that instance, she feels the tension and fear hang thick in the air like toxic smoke.

There was a bat amongst them after all.

Rain pours through the ceiling like a waterfall, melting into her tension-filled shoulders.

They make the first move, but she's already won this chess match of flesh and steel.

A lunge comes from one of the dissident elements within the iceberg.

Predictable, wild and ineffective, like a Barnes opening.

As she twists her body she notices one of their friends ready a gun, a flick of the wrist and the call is answered by a Batarang. She catches the lunge with practised ease and redirects him to a more suitable target.

Exhilaration and adrenaline flood her veins like old times sake, yet she tastes something off on the horizon, gunfire echoes through the lounge.

The explosive rattle of clashing metal and wildfire sparks.

Foreboding, as it wasn't aimed at her.

Too focused on her twisting trepidation, a bad move she's forced to reconsider as she's launched over a nearby railing.

More out of practice than she thought.

Her instincts still honed to a fine edge, her grapple hook saves her.

A lifeline from a less than ideal landing.

A groan escapes her lips as her legs collide awkwardly with the floor, pain ripples through her legs, a sensation she wished stayed foreign.

A dull thud echoes across from her.

A cocky laugh escapes from its owner's lips.

"Should've stayed in retirement," probably accompanied by an annoying cocky smirk.

Yet something calls to her, begs for her attention.

Anger and rage flare to life flowing through her like coursing red-hot lava.

A cracked flickering bat-signal with a single bloody handprint.

Perhaps the raging typhoon hidden amongst Gotham's filth and grime was her.

Shin Ryujin.

You pull your red hoodie over your school uniform, a small comfort against the coiling rain cresting your skin.

A comfort nonetheless.

The last good gift from your parents.

"Yo, Hoodie," Soyeon calls, offering a tenderly lit cigarette, smoke pulling from her lips.

The embers fight desperately to stay afloat in the pool of cold weather and despair.

Concrete and brickwork, your only shield against the incumbent rain.

Though you preferred the rain over trust fund kids.

Soyeon and her gaggle of cohorts were a weird paradoxical exclusion.

Money didn't fix screw-up parents after all.

Your hand waves her off, a path best avoided.

She rolls her eyes slightly, taking another drag. Her eyes narrow across the rooftop, a glint of mischief dances in her eyes.

A barely hidden smile.

A lioness on the hunt.

"Gotta say a rebellious streak wasn't on my bingo card."

A shrug rolls through your shoulders, trust fund babies deserved it.

Even if you were technically one now too.

Your tongue scrapes across your teeth, you preoccupy yourself with your phone.

You just wanted to return to the cave, Nightwing was supposed to train you tonight.

Gunshots, spark crackle and bloom against you like the explosive dying embers of the stars in the night sky. They echo and ricochet through your ears like a dull alarm.

You're almost enraptured by the scattering flecks of metal dancing like fireflies, you had the Bat's last gift to thank for that.

Your relationship had always been tumultuous, your fists bludgeoned the unjust before you, your anger vents with each collision but you know it'll never be enough.

Your fingers itch for the guns at your hip, the easy way. But your mentor deserved respect in their death, something you wished for.

You watch as the last goon crumples before you, a solid hit to the stomach. "Stay down if you know what's good for you."

The sound of shattering glass distracts you before you can earn a response. None of the family should be here.

This was your penance and your burden.

You quickly hit your stride, bounding over and across abandoned tables and stools, you weren't as smooth or as graceful as Jiu, you were used to running through your obstacles.

Another shattering noise sends worry shivering through your spine, Jiu was supposed to be in Bludhaven. Rain poured like a river as you came across the scene, a shattered rail leading into the depths of an abyss.

Voices echo and boom across the scene, and your body aches, wishing nothing more to rampage. Yet you halt in your tracks.

"Looks like Big Boy got her," a smile blooms across the thug's features. All you can think about is lodging a bullet between his eyes. A primal urge itched at your fingers, abated only by the promise you made. "I didn't realise the original flavour was back in stock."

Anger flares through you, a beast gnawing at its tether. Your teeth grit as a deep breath soothes your lungs, water to cool the fire of rage.

Your eyes prowled over their forms, planning your assault like links in a chain.

Twenty goons all up, it wasn't gonna be a fair fight.

For them.

A flash bang and smoke grenade cocktail to get the party started, you're disgusted with the part of you that enjoys being a hunter.

You dive into the fray, your armoured boots collide with flesh as you land, the sound of broken ribs is hardly a surprise.

One down.

The smoke obfuscates you and every move you make, you'd never felt closer to your mentor than in moments like this.

An apex predator amongst sheep, you'd found it harder than any of the others to toe the line.

You fire a stray bullet, loosening one of the many gaudy chandeliers.

A whole squad is gone.

You hear the familiar bloom of bullets against your suit, the pain is nothing but a dull echo of what it should be.

Bruises instead of blood.

Sparks instead of scars.

Minor inconveniences, as you dive into the smoke. You can almost feel their palpable fear as their friends disappear one at a time.

Nothing but echoes and whispers.

The boom of your boots, a haunting siren of pain. Primal rage etched into every stomp, a beast you desperately fight against.

A flash of fear haunts the last man standing, his eyes linger on your holsters.

A deep gulp.

A gun levelled to his temple, everything in your core begs for the return of the executioner.

A raging beast tempered against a cage.

Insert line here.

The cage remains strong.

Her fingers itch capriciously against the hem of her dress shirt, her father's scoldings ring still in her ears.

The only time they really shared.

Well aside, from the times she donned the mask. But that didn't count.

She chews at her tongue, cornered by Soyeon of delinquent fame.

A small drop in the bucket of ne'er do wells she's washed over. Her fist clenches at her skirt.

"Does dear daddy the commissioner know you're here?" An infuriating smirk lines her teeth, so deliciously punchable.

Her hands were tied... figuratively of course. It'd be a simple gesture, a right hook to her smug face.

A more becoming smile.

Yet all Ryujin can offer is a weak smile as fingers lock in her hair.

"How about we do the commissioner a favour? Teach his daughter to avoid the rats in the gutter," a scowl etched into her features, her eyes haunted with a twisted sense of pleasure.

Weak without the mask, pain tickles its way through the nerves in her scalp. Her brain shifts, survival mode a must... at least for her father's sake.

She's prepared for more, a blow to the ribs or the stomach, maybe even a hook to the face.

Her eyes snap shut.

Even among the pews of her thoughts, there's a surprise when she feels a shift. With a soft... hesitant release of her scalp, her feet stumble with the sudden adjustment.

A red hoodie, a defiant grip against Soyeon's wrist.

"Cut it out," your voice is surprisingly soft, delicate even. It cuts like a knife, all the same, leveraged by your soul-piercing gaze.

#fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #kpop gg x reader #kpop x reader #kpop #kpop x gn reader #itzy #itzy x gn reader #itzy fanfic #itzy x reader #itzy ryujin #shin ryujin #ryujin x gn reader #ryujin x reader #ryujin

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risedluna · 2 months

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your muses aesthetic. list your muse’s aesthetic from tastes, smells, outfits, and sceneries. add as many subjects as you like, it can help with people tagging you in aesthetically pleasing things towards your muse.

tastes. traditional water tribe cuisine. savory seal jerky, steamed sea prunes, and hearty sea kelp stew. snowy yam pastries, coconut seaweed wraps, grilled fish, and salted sea cucumbers harvested from the ocean depths. homemade meals. comforting soups and stews prepared with an abundance of care. traditional water tribe dishes passed down through generations, reflecting heritage. learned from her mother. her grandmother. akutaq, whipped animal fat, berries, and seabirds in seal skin. ptarmigan, ducks, and geese.

smells. briny air carrying the scent of the ocean. earthy scents of healing herbs and plants. smoky aroma of wood-fired stoves. mingled with the savory smells of simmering soups, roasting meats. sea salt and brine. tangy, maritime scent of saltwater and seaweed. scent of home. crackling hearth fires in the igloos of the southern water tribe.

sights. glacial landscapes. icebergs, frozen tundras, and aurora australis visible in the sky, shades of green, yellow cutting across the dark. vibrant festivals and ceremonies. healing sanctuaries: tranquil pools and waterfalls, sacred places where katara practices her water-bending techniques. communal gathering spaces, consistently bustling with activity and familiar faces. endless expanses of icy plains, dotted with snowdrifts and hidden ice caves. glow of the full moon reflecting off the icy landscape, casting mercury light on the snow. otter penguins roaming in packs, polar bear dogs stalking the snowy plains for prey.

sounds. cascading waterfalls, and the rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore. swirling currents. melodic tunes played on traditional water tribe instruments, drums, flutes, and stringed lyres. chirping birds and the distant calls of arctic creatures echoing across the frozen landscape. howling winds, vibrating against the surface of ice buildings. soft chants, whispered prayers, and the tranquil hum of energy. warm crackling of burning wood, accompanied by the comforting sounds of popping embers and sizzling stew pots. haunting melodies sung during rituals and ceremonies. the soft rustle of snowflakes.

sensations. chill of the frozen tundra. iciness, cold. embrace of fur-lined blankets and blankets, protection against the arctic conditions. empowering surges of energies. sense of community, kinship. water does not resist. water flows. when you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. but water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. water is patient. dripping water wears away a stone. power, fluidity. feelings of rage, raw, and aggressive. i would rather die on my feet than live on my knees.

tagged by — me. thank you, me. tagging — @equaliezr, @avat4r, @empirelead, @earthfeel, @tessenwarrior, @spiritshe, @fanfabled

#in character. / aesthetics.

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kayssweetdreams · 2 years

Text

A Wonderous Christmas Ch 3

Meanwhile, In Wonderworld...

To say that the inhabitants of Wonderworld were excited for the holidays was an understatement. The decorated theater threshold to the heart healing world was just the tip of the iceberg. Wonderworld was completely transformed during the merry season. The Tower of Tims was decorated to resemble a giant Christmas tree, and various snowmen. Toys, and sleds were now scattered around, as the entire Isle was covered in a blanket of glittering snow.

Balan stepped onto the Isle, the cold not bothering him, as he chuckled at some Tims building a snow-Tim. Snapping his fingers, he made a small top hat that was similar to his own as well as a scarf, and put on the Tim. "Stay warm my snowy friend, lest you want your fun to end." He said before he walked on towards the stages.

Why the stages you may ask? For the Holiday party of course! The holiday soirée is the one time of the year when the walls that separated the worlds dissappeared, letting the costumes mingle and interact, as well as the stages themselves giving light to the Clock of Happiness, making the Wonderworld equivalent of the Aroura Borealis appear through the entire world.

Striding into World 8, He felt the frigid blast of frozen air, prompting a cartoonish shiver from Balan, even though he can't be affected by the cold. The wintery world seemed to have felt more merry than the reason it was created. The ice and snow refracting the twinkling lights now hung throughout the world, and the icy surfaces and snow covered platforms now had the costume shaped snow angels, and ice lines from skating.

The top hatted maestro looked to see the costumed inhabitants of the land decorating, having friendly chats to those visiting, or watching a band of musical costumes playing their renditions of various carols. His presence was unseen in the merry environment, until a Frost Fairy with jingle bells saw him.

"Hello Maestro." She said, gracefully stepping towards him, as snowflakes made a makeshift bridge across the crowd. Balan gave his usual smile and bowed to her "My dear, what a sight to behold! It's like something out of a story waiting to be told!" He said jubilantly. The Frost Fairy gave a small smile "Thank you. It is the holidays after all." She said.

Balan chuckled before the Frost Fairy went off and grabbed a mug "Care for some hot cocoa?" She asked. The top hatted maestro nodded "Yes please my dear, with Whipped cream and marshmallows! If that's not to insincere." He said. "Coming right up!" The frost fairy replied and got to work. The maestro smiled before he remembered that after he checked up on everything, that he needed to send out his invites to the human visitors of Wonderworld.

"Here you are!" The frost fairy said cheerfully, handing Balan a warm cup of cocoa, with Whipped cream, and a few marshmallows that resembled his hat and the Tims. Balan gave a chuckle "Such a wonderful treat! It looks almost too good to eat!" He said "hope you enjoy it Balan." She said before she rejoined the festivities.

Balan nodded before he snapped his fingers, and reappeared back in the theater. Taking a sip of the warm drink, he called forth some parchment, and got to work creating invitations for the Christmas Party...

Meanwhile, In DownTown Timeville...

After finally getting the gifts she had back home, and out of her family's sight, Kaylo was finally able to get to DownTown Timeville "Hey guys! I'm back!" She said cheerfully. Emma smiled when she saw the pink haired girl bounding over to them "Well, new area, different stores. Let's see what they have here!" She said.

Very soon, the children's were now wandering through the stores that lined the street. Only this time, some of the kids actually had some luck. Mei had found a beautiful tapestry for her family, while Emma was fortunate enough to spy a new suit and watch at a reasonable price for her father. Leo however, was still having a bit of trouble finding the perfect gift for his mom.

After wandering around for a good half hour, the kids had taken another break inside of Sugar and Spice bakery, to which a happy Catilin was perfecting some Christmas sweets. "Here kids, you can sample these while you warm up" She said, laying down a few cups of hot cocoa, along with a few platters of various marshmallows, peppermints and candy canes, chocolate Bark, Gingerbread cookies and more "Thank you Auntie Catilin!" Kaylo said cheerfully.

Leo sighed as he took a nibble at a peppermint flavored marshmallows stick "Guys, what am I going to do? I can't think of something she would like..." He said. Mei gave him a sympathetic look "Don't worry Leo, it's not Christmas yet, you still have some time. And besides, there's got to be something..." she said. Trisha Jane got to thinking "Just imagine it like This Leo: Is there anything that your mom has wanted, or had been eyeing for a while?" She asked.

The blonde haired boy leaned back and thought, thinking of the last time he payed attention to what his mom might desire. But unfortunately, he didn't seem to come up with anything. "I...am not sure." Kaylo raised an eyebrow "Well, Christmas isn't for a while Leo, you can still ask her what she might want, or try to see what she's been eyeing." She said with a shrug.

Suddenly, A loud dropping of a tray made Kaylo jump from her seat...and causing a letter, written in curly writing to fall out of her pocket, that was addressed to "Santa Claus"

Mei belongs to @sundove88

Rebecca belongs to @thehypercutstudios/@thehyperrequiem

Trisha Jane belongs to @lovelyteng

#Balan Wonderworld #Balan #Lance #Leo Craig #Emma Cole #Jose Gallard #Fiona Demetria #Yuri Brand #Haoyu Chang #Sana Hudson #Cass Milligan #Cal Suresh #Iben Bia #Attilio Caccini #Lucy Wong #Eis Glover #Bruce Stone

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talesfromsiteredacted · 1 year

Text

Not A Date, Remember?

After two weeks of testing that was frankly more difficult and stressful for Dr. Clef than for the tested, being me, I did promise my boss a totally not romantic social outing. Turns out, Clef off the clock and out of his "fear me, I'm the fucking devil" shtick is kinda fun. Just so happens, tonight is the costume contest. In hindsight, maybe '40's noir Poison Ivy was a bad costume idea.

It's been a rough patch, I'll admit. But... I'm holding up fine. My boss is not doing so well. He's his usual self in public, but he's been quieter in office when it's just us. He hasn't even played his edgy 'I'm deliberately playing this to irritate the general populace nearby' jams last two weeks. This ain't the Clef I'm used to.

Maybe if I agree to go with him to this silly costume contest, it'll liven him up. I wasn't planning on going, but I do still have a few old cosplay costumes, one perfect to go with his choice of RE4 Leon in a suit. Ah, here's the boss, fresh coffee in hand. Perfect.

"Hey, Bunny. How you doing?" Geez, even his voice went flat. No good.

"I'm here, so... guess I'm okay. You've been a bit out of it lately. You okay, Boss?"

"Yeah, just tired. Guess I need to start sleeping more or something."

He goes to check the weekly reports, and I try to think of how to ask him. After a while, I finally know what to say.

"Boss, the costume contest is tonight. You got plans or anything?"

"Was thinking of skipping it since ol' COG told me no DoomClef this year. You?"

"Kinda why I'm asking. Kind of last minute, but... I do have something that should suffice nicely with your mobster suit."

"Please tell me it's not the tall ass vampire lady. I have a height complex as it is."

"Hey, I grew six inches, and I'm still shorter than you. Nope. Was thinking noir Dr. Isley. Got the green dress, add some matching heels, wrap some vine garlands and fake flowers around me, I'm set."

"You sure you didn't plan ahead?"

"Nah, would have made a snowbunny costume just for you, Boss." I winked, teasing him. Clef turns pink.

"Don't mind me calling you Snowbunny, heh? Can only imagine the outfit. Blue velvet, embroidered silver snowflakes, white faux fur trim. Very cute. Might just have to have something made for you."

"It's not a date, remember? This is just two friends letting off steam."

"Grr. Okay. So, meet here at 6:30, then?"

"You mean 6:30 exactly, or 6:30 Clef Time?" Clef Time being 15-30 minutes later. But, when you're Site Command, only O5 can tell you off for being late.

"Contest is at 7:30, so... normal time. I'm looking forward to this, Snowbuny."

"Me too. Dr. Rights said you look hot in a suit, by the way. Made Dr. Bright a bit mad at her, but... it's Bright, he gets over this stuff quickly."

That settled, we run out the final two hours on the shift clock. While the time winds down, I text Iris for some last minute hair and makeup help. While I'm pretty good with clothes, I suck ass at makeup. Iris is pro level, she can make even Iceberg look good in drag, a near miracle as he's now rocking the villain goatee.

After shift, the transformation begins. I pick my dress, a vintage swing dress in green silk. I dig out my one pair of green heels, and hunt for foliage. By the time Iris is here and set up, I've got plenty of flowers and a long ass bushy ivy garland. Perfect, pin this to my seafoam shawl wrap, and then it's off to hair and makeup. Iris checks my kit. I notice she's decided to be Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, a classic.

"Noir Ivy? Wasn't that your Comicon outfit, day 2? First day you were Isaac Clarke, but bitched about the helmet."

"Yeah, but... my date never saw this, so... I'm going with it. The date was last minute, Sis."

"Who's the lucky guy? I know 049 isn't going."

"Dr. Clef." I mumble. Iris nearly drops the foundation brush. "He's having a rough patch, I just thought I should try being nice to him. He's gone though way way too much."

"Clef? Alto Fucking "Gonna Torture You Suckers With Super Slow Smashmouth on Ukulele" Clef? This is a prank, right?" Iris keeps working, but waits to see if I'm serious.

"No prank. He's not as bad as you've heard, Sis. He's kinda sweet sometimes. Bit weird, but we're all freaks here." Iris motions for me to stop talking while she works. Once she's done with the makeup, she starts working with my messy, wavy, blood red tresses. She settles on a simple loose braid, with a white rose tucked behind my right ear. Then, a crown of ivy is pinned to my head. I slip into the rest of my costume, and Iris admires the outcome.

"Gotta say... you might need a chaperone. I doubt even Dr. Gears wouldn't at least take a few long looks. Good thing you're also good with ice, as this look is straight fire."

"Thanks, Sis. You going with anyone?" We pack up Iris's things while we talk.

"Viktor and Sergei. Viktor is Toto, Sergei the Cowardly Lion. And... Alina, the new girl? Tin Woodswoman. We're swinging by Evie's for photos first, so I gotta go. I'll show you the snaps tomorrow. Later Sis!"

I head to my boss's office, half sure I'm either going to be pranked, or worse, stood up. But... to my surprise, there's the boss man, looking like the perfect Leon Kennedy gangster cosplay. Wow. He really cleans up well, he even shaved. Never mind the weird third eye, the Cheshire cat grin that unnerves even Abel, the slight dad bod, or the torture by ukulele... Alto Clef is fine af.

"Ah... Dr. Isley, I presume?" He removes his hat, bowing.

"Agent Kennedy? Charmed to meet you. I wasn't informed you were quite so handsome."

"Nor was I told how lovely you truly are. Will you allow me to escort you to the party? It's safer to travel in pairs, after all."

"I'd be delighted, Agent Kennedy." I offer him my hand, he raises it to his lips. Not going to lie... I might be attracted to my boss. He then places my hand on his elbow, off we go.

We arrive right on time. Dave at the door does a double take, but lets us in. The music is going, a few couples dancing. After we catch up with a bunch of coworkers, we're off in a corner and I get bold.

"Wanna indulge a fantasy of mine, Doc?" I whisper in his ear. He adjusts his collar, nervous. I go on. "I've always wanted to dance with the devil. Traditionally, there's moonlight, but I'm not big on some traditions. So... may I have a dance with the handsomest devil around?"

"Normally, I'd say no, but since you're so charming, I can't refuse." We step out onto the dance floor just as the music changes from some slow drivelling ballad to... "Jump Jive and Wail" by Brian Setzer Orchestra. Wasn't expecting that, but... okay. Little did I know... Dr. Clef can swing. By the time the night is over, we had danced almost all night, and won second place in the couple's costume division, losing out to Scorpion and Sub-Zero. Not even mad, Draven and Jim may as well have stepped out of Mortal Kombat 11, their costumes were that good.

Party over, and we're walking home. So far... I've remembered to behave, and not do what I want to do: just kiss him already. But... now we're just feet from my door. He likes me, otherwise he wouldn't be here. It's clear I like him too. And things with 049 have fallen apart, both due to us nearly overworking ourselves to death. We parted on good terms, but I shouldn't rush into anything yet. Besides, Clef is my boss. If this goes wrong, there goes my career. Still want to kiss him, though. We're at my door now.

"Rabbit, thanks. This was way more fun than what I had planned." He leans in, presses the softest of kisses to the corner of my lips. Just as he's about to pull away, I reach out, and run my fingers through his hair. My eye gaze into his, and next thing I know, I'm kissing him. His hands find my waist, holding me close. Oh wow... never thought I'd even think this... but if he keeps kissing me like this, I'm inviting him in. Before I can though... the kiss is over. He wants to ask me, I can see it in his heterochromic eyes. He speaks before I can, though.

"Not on the first not-date, Snowbunny. Believe me, it's taking a lot to not give in. But I don't want to rush you."

"So... you doing anything on Friday? How about a real date? Dinner, a movie, maybe bring your hanky to meet my panky?"

"Not sure about the last part, but... dinner? Yes." He sighs, then takes my cheek in his hand. "343 knows I'm not worthy, but yes."

We stand there for a few more precious moments, forehead to forehead. Just in time for my jerk of a neighbor Dr. Iceberg to walk by.

"Gotta say, you two make a cute couple. Poison Ivy and her henchman."

"Fuck off, Julian!" We both shout in unison at his retreating back. The door slams behind him.

#scp foundation #tales from site redacted #agent rabbit #dr clef #not a date #seems like a date to me though

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blackicephantom · 1 year

Text

Genshin Impact - Wrath of a God 5

Finish Line! We did it!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Childe struggled back to his feet and took slow steps back, because not even the battle hungry Eleventh Harbinger wanted to stand in between two Archons about to fight it out. Especially if one out of those two was the oldest of them.

As swift as he could he retreated towards the wall far away from her Majesty and tried to be ready for almost anything.

Both Gods watched each other, blazing gold against frostbitten blue. The Tsaritsa was the first to move. “I know exactly who you are, Morax. And I have to say that I’m disappointed.” Snowflakes started to dance around her hand, forming a sharp blade made of ice. Widening his stance just slightly, Zhongli replied coldly. “I’m sad to say the same about you.”

There was a clash of the elements and at first it looked as if they were on equal footing but it didn’t take long for the rhythm to change. Even if his dear Queen had fought many of her battles by herself, it was clear that she was just no match for the God of war that stood before her. For every step she took forward, the brunette would push her back three. For every wound she tried to inflict, he would cut her four fold.

Embers flew when their blades crashed into each other, both weapons glowing with unnatural lights. The Tsaritsa rushed up ahead, building frozen steps to gain height, before jumping over the older one's head and swinging her sword down. But Zhongli anticipated that move and braced himself. He held his spear up above and absorbed the hit, only to push her away mere millimeters and then sent a geo steele straight into her stomach. The construct hit her damn hard and even as an archon she had to cough and fight for air. Before she could completely recover though, the older already sent his spear flying, the blade barely missing her face and instead cutting her veil. Right in the next moment he came crashing after his weapon, the female just fast enough to roll to the side and climbing to her feet.

Beneath her heels Tartaglia could see the clear shimmer of a Cryo emblem and with a swiping move of her hand big icicles, almost freaking icebergs , shot out from four different directions , with a fifth growing right out of the ground. But that was still not enough.

The older Archon dodged the first two, blocked the next two with two more of his steeles and simply crushed the last one with his bare hand. But the Goddess was not ready to give up yet. “You come here, into my land, my home! And intend to steal from me. Just how far have you fallen Morax?” Cutting apart another set of icicles and stepping through an oncoming shuriken hail said male glared at his fellow god.

“You entered a written agreement, a contract signed in blood, with me and refused to go through with it. Everything was set, arranged to perfection, right to the most important moment. I was ready to overlook your first mistake, having already given over my Gnosis. But then your other Harbinger told me that you won’t fulfill your second part either.” Stepping over the crushed ice he swiftly kicked his Vortex Vanquisher around to stop the ice golems that were starting to climb out of the fallen snow. Following this Zhongli summoned three more of his Geo constructs, so that they circled both Archons. And each `pillar´ gave a soft pulse, until they slowly synced with each other, resonating with the Geo energy they were emitting.

Childe could see that the mistress of this palace was starting to run out of steam. Even if her hands were still steady, her breath was already quite labored, her elemental attacks losing strength and her moves losing their grace and finesse. But the insulting part was this: Zhongli was not even out of breath, didn’t even break a sweat and hadn't even summoned his jade shield. Not even once. And he was still unharmed, whilst the Tsaritsa had gathered a good amount of wounds. Towering above her, Morax asked her. “ Now tell me, dear Tsaritsa, who is the fallen one?”

The ginger couldn’t take his eyes off of that absolute beating his Lady was receiving. With the Geo Lords next swift attack, spears of his element followed the attack's path and cut not only her dress. Next he brought down his blade, crushing the very ground they stood upon when the younger Archon jumped away. But she was unprepared for the spinning spear, almost too slow to parry. And definitely too slow for the next hit from above.

It was like a dance, a very deadly one, that Zhongli led with an iron fist and relentless assault. The Queen's dress was drenched in red, her beautiful face a sweaty grimace and even her noble sword could no longer withstand that overwhelming power it was bombarded with. With their next clash, her blade got chipped, with the one after that it cracked. And with one last powerful kick, it broke.

The impact of said kick sent the woman flying backwards, where she hit the already crumbling wall. Before she could collect herself the orange glowing tip of her opponent's blade buried itself in her still wounded stomach. Screaming she tried to focus, tried to call for her snow lances or ice spears. But everytime she tried the heated steel inside her moved forward, slipping deeper inside her delicate body. Panting she looked up, looking straight into the burning eyes that she , too, once feared. Then her gaze slipped past his towering figure and locked onto the ginger haired male she wanted to keep at all odds. No matter what may happen, she knew she could not win. Not now and probably not even in hundreds of years. Not even with the Anemo Gnosis in her possession.

Suddenly the blade was removed, blood splattering on the ground and her vision blocked by the scaled coat Morax favored over his mortal years. No matter what may happen, she still got one last trick up her sleeve. She clenched her fist and let it fall to the floor, the icy energy traveling fast on the wet and cold ground. But before it could reach its target, a gold glowing shield manifested around the boy, causing it to crash against it and race up towards the ceiling, where it simply crashed and froze. Then she opened her hand again and beckoned to her Harbinger. “Come.” she called oh so sweetly.

Both males registered fast what she was planning and yet only one seemed actually concerned about it. Ajax felt dread and felt sick, that’s why it took him a few seconds to notice something very important. Even though her Majesty gave him a direct order, he doesn’t have that disgusting feeling of compulsive obedience, that reflexive need to do her bidding. And after she called for him again without the desired outcome, the Cryo Archon came to the same conclusion, which made Morax chuckle.

Tartaglia watched as the consultant stepped back and pushed his spear into the broken ground before putting his hands behind his back. An insult in the face of every warrior and soldier, the demonstration that he no longer perceives you as a thread. “It seems that you have forgotten something else too, my dearest Tsaritsa.”

His deep voice was gentle, mocking, meant to be soothing and yet to hurt deep.

His fellow Archon didn’t understand. She just couldn’t grasp the meaning behind this.

Full lips pulled themself into a sharp grin, draconian fangs on full display and Childe…. fucking swooned. And by the soft snicker he received Zhongli noticed too.`Ohhhhh Fuck….´ Then these piercing eyes were back on the beaten Queen and explained. “This may be your land, your home. This entire region may be your ice cold domain.” His eyes slitted again, just for a single moment and his face was showing almost sadistic joys when he said the next part. “But even underneath your layers upon layers of ice and snow, rest the everlasting presence of the earth. Which, as we both know, belongs to me.” Another rumble, as if said earth agreed and even Childe had to swallow. Of course it made sense, it was nothing but pure logic. Even if Snezhnaya was known as the frozen land, its cities and even this palace were built on solid ground. No matter how thick the snow may become, the fact remains that the rich earth will wait underneath.

“You wanted to trick me, twice.” Pale blue lips snapped shut when Zhongli slowly stepped closer. Suddenly gripped by an instinctual fear the poor Goddess tried to scramble away, backing up even if there was no more room behind her. To make matters even worse for her the other Archons form slowly started to change. His brown clothes turned into a white coat that left nothing to the imagination, leaving his corded, golden veined arms on full display for the young Harbingers hungry eyes. Next were the wide pants that replaced his form fitting ones and Childe, no Ajax, could do nothing but go down on his knees. This was the God he was sent to fight against. This was Morax in all of his Celestia given glory.

Tsaritsa meanwhile was close to hysterics. She knew that Rex Lapis did this on purpose, knew that he wanted to inflict trauma and make her remember times that are better left forgotten. With every step he took towards her she felt so foolishly young again. Desperate to escape she shook her head, tried to look for one last way out. But the older God was faster than her. An almost burning hand took hold of her chin and made her look up into burning Cor Lapis.

“Last time, you had to renovate and repair two different wings of your castle.” His fingers tightened and his smirk was bone shattering close to obscene. “What shall it be this time?”

Silently sobbing she did the last thing that came to mind. “Please… Please, Morax! No more!” A low growl was his answer. “So you want the mercy that you have denied one of your own?!”

Tartaglia was floored. There was only one person he could mean with this.

`Does this mean my prayers were heard?´ The small voice from back then answered him `It does.´

Morax just kept watching as the cold facade of the younger God started to fall away.

Even if it looked rather different, he took no joy in this psychological torture, he was way past these methods. But his fellow Archon had an important lesson to learn. And he would make sure that it stuck. Letting go of the still crying woman, he changed back into his regular clothes and finally turned around so he faced the one he came for. While walking towards him he still talked to the Tsaritsa. “You’ve broken the contract, so you were faced with the wrath of the rock. You’ve tried to trick and steal from me, so you will face the wrath of a God.”

Right in front of Childe the shield broke and Zhongli just picked him up, ignoring his small squeak of surprise and his feeble complaints. With his target secure in his arms he made steps out of steles and started to climb up towards the still frozen roof. Right underneath said roof he switched his precious cargo onto one arm so he could use his other one. He clenched his fist together and then gave the structure above an almost gentle tab, causing the whole archon damned roof to crumble and fall away, so that the clear sky was on display. And Ajax honestly just gave up. He buried his flaming face into the soft fabric of the others trusted coat and let out a rather embarrassing whine that he will deny forever and a day.

Letting out a rumbled chuckle the taller male looked back down at the fallen god.

“Let this be your lesson and your warning Tsaritsa. As stated in our previous contract, Childe is no longer your vanguard and from now on in my care.”

With these last words the sky above them first darkened, then suddenly lit up as an honest to Celestia and Archon damned meteor descended from the heavens. The former Harbingers eyes nearly fell out of his head at this sight and not even the renewed jade shield could keep away the heat of the falling piece of earth. Just before it hit though, Zhongli took him away. And Tartaglia has to say, even if the circumstances were absolute rubbish, he was content. So he sighed and just cuddled into the solid arms of the Lord of Geo.

Who knew what the next morning would bring and what obstacles lay ahead of them?

_ End _

#fanfic #genshin impact #zhongli x childe #zhongchi #WoG

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vampiricvittles · 2 years

Text

Magick drop. I’ll be teaching my class about all this on Saturday too. A little note, there are way more elements than this since magick is known to mutate at times. Still, these are the non-mutational ones.

Ice: Ice/water: Glacial Ice/Blood: Sno-Cone Ice/Dark: Celestial Ice/Light: Snowflake Ice/Wind: Avalanche Ice/Earth: Iceberg Ice/Flora: Pine Ice/Fire: Hearth

Water: Water/Blood: Jaws Water/Dark: Abyss Water/Light: Reef Water/Wind: Electric Water/Earth: Geyser Water/Flora: Swamp Water/Fire: Steam

Blood: Blood/Dark: Gothic Blood/Light: Bonds Blood/Wind: Hound Blood/Earth: Diamond Blood/Flora: Fauna Blood/Fire: Death

Dark: Dark/Light: Chaos Dark/Wind: Storm Dark/Earth: Corruption Dark/Flora: Flytrap Dark/Fire: Hell

Light: Light/Wind: Holy Light/Earth: Desert Light/Flora: Savannah Light/Fire: Love

Wind: Wind/Earth: Dust Wind/Fire: Thermal

Flora: Flora/Fire: Arson Flora/Earth: Overgrown

Ice Magick:

Purely Ice: Pure ice magick involves bending anything cold to your whim. Chill the air around you, freeze the blood of your enemies, make your own ice rink. Higher practice of pure ice can lead to creating ice storms and freezing your enemies whole but using high level ice elemental magick without being of it's element or being highly skilled can easily result in one freezing themselves over.

Glacial: Glacial magick revolves more around the ice aspect than the cold one. Flash freezes over slow and painful chills. Instead of freezing one whole, glacial will envelop them in a layer of ice. Glacial wizards usually carry around water flasks or bottles to cast their magicks effectively- as glacial isn't very useful without it.

Sno-Cone: As with all blood magick, sno-cone involves the process of freezing one's own blood- and only outside of the body. Without blood, this magick element is pretty useless. Aptly named for the common practice of turning blood to a freezing cold slush to keep victims in place.

Celestial: One of the rarest dual elements. Celestial magick is dangerous and best avoided if possible without protection against ice. It can turn the battlefield into a mini space arena, or form stars and comets to chase after others. This is one of the only magickal elements that cannot be mastered without it already being the element you're born with. Those skilled can cut out the oxygen in a certain area of effect.

Snowflake: A very stealthy magick. Those who use this element can create snowflakes that work like flash grenades, as well as create a snow cover for themselves. Higher levels can create snowflake traps. Avalanche: This is a more melee element. Getting hit by these guys packs one hell of a punch. Mortal Kombat levels of punch, complete with freezing effects.

Iceberg: This element is similar to Avalanche, but instead of melee it involves sending chunks of frozen earth flying. Another pure strength element. Pine: Those who are of pine element can throw pine needles with deadly accuracy and force. They can be large or small, the size doesn't matter. Getting hit by one hurts, and those more skilled in this element can send out many at once, like a volley of arrows.

Hearth: This is more of a support element. It can be used to spread feelings of warmth- almost like nostalgia. Those who practice it more can make weapons of metallic ice in an actual hearth that can last a variable amount of time, but never more than a week. They burn like cold iron to many supernatural races.

Water Magick:

Pure Water: Control the very essence of water, make it rain around you, form a rain cloud above your head and be like Eeyore. Any water magick involves having water on you, or being near a water source- thus making it one of the more burdensome magick types but comes with no drawbacks. Those of pure water can breathe underwater with ease and swim without restriction.

Jaws: A very dangerous element, but one that can't be used outside of water. Create bloodthirsty sharks to send after enemies, or turn the water a rusty red that can't be seen through by normal means.

Abyss: Turn any water around you vantablack and impossible to see through. Those willing to take more risks to their sanity can use it to shape eldritch horrors. Though not real, those of this element do have an easier time summoning said beings and interacting with them.

Reef: Another support element. This one is all about healing waters. Those of the reef element find themselves becoming naturally beautiful beings, but are very fragile. They can use any water around them to heal or light the way.

Electric: This dual element creates an element of itself. They can create electric currents around them, make their body into that reminiscent of an electric eel, power electronics just by touch- if they don't freak out and stop working that is.

Geyser: This element can create small geysers around them in a radius using underground water tables. The deeper the water table, the more strength and skill it requires to call upon one.

Swamp: Those of this element can turn their water into thick sludge, or draw water from any mud around them to use. Becoming more skilled in this element can turn your water into a poisonous substance, or create mud from pure water.

Steam: A deadly element. This one can turn any water into a boiling steam around them that can only be escaped by outrunning it or dissipating it with wind. Good for personal steam rooms with enough control over it.

Blood Magick:

Pure Blood: More than half the time, this element is granted by a summoning bond from a demon. It is possible to come upon it normally, but that is very very rare. Most of the time it will bond with the element of the user and the demon. Those of the blood element can control their blood, sense heat signatures from others', and hear pulses. It's also more powerful for darker summonings and dangerous against vampires, as a blood mage can change the composition of their blood. They also make good bloodhounds.

Gothic: This element can make tiny humunculi with their blood, as well as illusions. This element has the side effect of making their blood black and poisonous. Vampire's bane.

Bond: This element is all about partnership. Whether performed on the demon that was summoned or with a close loved one or significant other, a light ritual must be performed with each other, essentially bonding the two users for life- or until one dies. In the case of a death of bonded, the other bound will feel the pain and gain a scar where the killing blow was. When the bonded are together, their power and magick triples. It allows the one of bond element to use the element of the other, and they can also take the damage they would.

Hound: Those of this element are super trackers. They are the best at using tracking magicks and can tell your bloodtype and health just by smelling you. They can also sense vampires and lycans through scent. They make very dangerous hunters.

Diamond: This is a more physical element. Those of it can turn their skin into diamond or create shields from their blood. Mages who delve into this element can also create weapons by molding diamonds into their blood. While they shatter easily against ice and fire, they do make great bonded weapons as any symbols carved in them can be powered further by blood.

Fauna: This element is the ability to control animals. Those of this element have more affinity to animals and their demonic partner can take the form of animals via familiar style.

Death: This element deals with necromancy. However, it doesn't have to be used for evil. Death elemental mages can keep those on death's door alive longer, or make deals with a reaper more easily.

Dark Magick:

Pure Dark: This type of magick has a bad name tied to it thanks to the name, but it's nowhere near as bad as blood could be. However, like blood it's a very rare element to have without a summoning. Where blood is more demonic, dark is more fae based. (Or Yokai but again it's just not worth it.). The element of dark is more about trickery and stealth than it is evil, and those of the pure dark element can cause blindness for short periods of time, disappear in the shadows, create darkness around them, or throw their voice and create illusions in the night.

Chaos: The rarest element. Chaos is only created by summoning, and does not exist innately in any way. A mage of chaos has superior control over their summoned partner and can fight with them in sync on the battlefield. Alongside this, they can also jumble the mind of an opponent. There is a higher than average percentage that any spell cast when one has a chaos element to morph into something completely different. The sporadicism can be controlled to increase the percentage by those skilled in it.

Storm: Electricity's deadlier brother. This element can create storms out of nothing in a large radius, but it cannot be controlled unless the mage is very skilled and has at least a bit of mastery in electricity. This element is also known for it's loud audio hallucinations, and gain large amounts of power during actual storms.

Corruption: A melee element. Getting touched by one with corruption magick is similar to getting touched by Midas, but not usually permanent. This element creates a thick substance on the user's hands and arms that will cling to the skin of the enemy and stick like glue. Usually, this is not lethal unless the mage is very skilled, in which case the substance can be turned to poison, or controlled to spread throughout the whole body from a single source.

Flytrap: Users of this element use seduction, and they use it well. It can create almost a charm person effect via scent to draw in a victim. Users of this element gain a venomous bite and sticky sweat to be used when one is drawn to them.

Hell: Whereas most of this element is drawn upon via fae, those who go the demon path can end up having their element changed to hell. Hell mages can control lesser demons more easily, and withstand the heat and mental effects of the hells themselves. This, like chaos, allows the user to be in sync with their summon.

Light Magick:

Pure Light: The purest of the elements, but not the most innocent. Ignorance haunts light mages like a plague, for they think themselves holier than thou, and some even name a price to their magic. This element is very dangerous against things that go bump in the night, and is very finnicky. Straying from one's ideals causes light magick to not work as instructed until new ideals are set in stone and acted upon. Becoming lost in one's self can cause light magick to all but dry up until they're found again. Those with this element can heal, call upon the sun for aid, burn the undead by merely a glow of their skin, and sense alignments.

Holy: The most finnicky of all the magick elements. Holy is the power of smiting. Channeling it without a bonded weapon is akin to suicide, as this element burns it's way through the channel. Attempting to use it to heal is just as dangerous, as it's easy to taint and can curse just as easily as it can heal. Those with this element are the ones most likely to gain a holier than thou attitude. They can also create light on any object near them, and give boosts in power to gods.

Desert: The dry element. This one can dry up water sources, cause mirages, and can turn just about any object into sand. Savannah: This element is a curse and a blessing to any other flora element user. It can dry out plants, or cause them to grow wildly. Savannah is more of a utility element that is best used in coordination with another flora user.

Love: Another seduction class. Love mages can hypnotise with their beauty, make others fall in love for short times, sense and manipulate emotions in others, and heal minor and major wounds. A user with this element that is in love themselves will find their magick amplified and much more dangerous/helpful.

Wind Magick:

Pure Wind: Pure wind is a control element. It can summon winds from nothing, take control of winds that already exist, and use it to send objects and people flying much farther than natural if thrown. Those with this element must be careful of their emotions because they act as a conductor to their power. Becoming angry enough can summon storms, even without being skilled in storm and electrical elements.

Dust: This element is akin to POCKET SAND. It can be used to create larger dust storms, send particulates flying while also being controllable, and despite sounding lame can be quite dangerous. For example, particulates don't have to be sand and can be things such as tiny glass or metal shards, which can cut up a victim within minutes.

Thermal: Those with this element are a bit unique. They can grow feathers or wings, and create thermal vents on which to fly with ease. More of an acrobatic and utility element than a combat one.

Flora Magick:

Pure Flora: The element with the biggest drawbacks. Pure flora can control plants, listen to them speak, whisper commands to them, and have an excellent green thumb for flora that is normally close to impossible to grow such as herbs. However, it's very easy to feel coerced to become one with the element controlled- which makes them susceptible to being controlled by another flora user or becoming a plant themselves.

Arson: This one is more fire than it is flora, with one difference. Arson mages gain explicit control over any plant they light on fire, no matter their level of skill over flora. They can also isolate and cause fires that cannot burn out by normal means.

Overgrown: Creating plants but on steroids. Mages of this element can create forests out of nothing, but doing so will completely drain them. Most use this to grow close to neverending vines to send after their enemies, or splice to create new hybrids of plant life.

Fire Magick:

Pure fire: This element allows the user to control fire, are immune to it's effects, can light themselves on fire, and summon it from nothing. Like wind, it becomes stronger and eventually uncontrollable with emotional instability.

#post #history lessons

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