#Nai lives rent free in my head now. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bit-dodgy-innit · 1 year

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Heaven Sent You to Me

Pairing: Apollo (who happens to look exactly like Orestes in Agora) x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 3.8k

TW/CW: umm we all know Greek Mythology is like screwed up right? So there’s mean patriarchal men in this, a bit of power play between Apollo and reader, innocence!kink, oral (f!receiving), PinV sex, loss of virginity, talk of pregnancy

A/N: YES I AM AWARE THAT I SHOULD BE WRITING THE MORE THE MERRIER OR ANSWERING THE OTHER 87 ASKS IN MY INBOX BUT MY MUSE IS FICKLE OKAY? She said “Oscar as Apollo or no words at all” so here we are 🤷‍♀️ I watched The Two Faces of January last week and kept thinking that Oscar looks like a Greek god and @lovely-cryptid ‘s greek mythology AU lives rent free in my head and I couldn’t help myself…

Also the title is a lyric from an Ariana Grande because I have fully reverted ten years writing a Greek Mythology AU for my fandom du jour with a song lyric title bc I'm ~artsy~

You should have known he was a god. The way his fingers seemed to fly over the strings of his lyre. That enchanting, mellifluous voice. The smile that shone brighter than the sun itself. You’d encountered him in the woods behind the temple consecrated to him for Zeus’s sake.

Though who could blame you for assuming he was a mortal man? What would a god, an Olympian, want with you – an unimportant peasant in a small, unimportant village? He’d appeared to you as a mortal, a beautiful, alluring one, but a mortal. In fact, he’d been rather short in stature. Apollo’s affairs and exploits were famous, nay infamous, and even now it seemed impossible to reconcile the man who had spoken to you with such sweetness, who had wrung ebullient laughter, as well as previously unimaginable pleasure, from you was the mighty god you and your family had worshiped since time immemorial.

The revelation that you had lain with the god of light, music, medicine, the averter of evil, had been one that raced your head endlessly over the past few days, but it never failed to send a shiver down your spine. You instantly conjured the broad, chiseled planes of his body, so starkly contrasted with the gentle way he’d made love to you. When you revealed that you were a virgin, he was tender with you. Fragments of memories flashed in your mind’s eye but the one that oddly lingered the longest, and the most vividly, was the sweep of his thick, dark lashes across his high cheekbone when his eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy as he met his release. He had been the portrait of pleasure and beauty. You were truly a naive fool for not realizing the divinity in front of you in that moment.

“We must pray that you conceive,” your mother had declared. “You have already secured our family great status, but a demigod? Dmitri, can you imagine?”

Despite her praise, your cheeks burned in shame when she turned to your father for his reaction. You detested how openly and calculated this very intimate, typically private event in your life was being discussed. No one was supposed to know. Yet your sister had found the blood stains on your chiton while laundering it, and she’d coaxed the details out of you.

“Did it hurt?” she whispered.

“No.”

Her brows furrowed, “But you bled. It always hurts. It hurt my first time.”

“I…I don’t know. It didn’t. There was a–,” you blushed bright red and lowered your voice even further, “–a stretch, but it was pleasurable. I didn’t notice the blood until you did.”

Your sister was not willing to let it go. A trait among the women in your family that you’d failed to inherit.

“Well, how large was he?”

“Caris,” you urged her to stop. Yet, you knew your plea was useless, so you quickly approximated your lover’s size with your hands.

“Oh that definitely should have hurt!” Caris squawked in disbelief.

“I’m not talking about this anymore!” you proclaimed.

And that really should have been the end of it. Yet when you, Caris, and your parents made your weekly tribute at Apollo’s temple the following day the priests and acolytes were all abuzz. The god had appeared yesterday.

Initially, you had been as exhilarated as the rest of them, yet your stomach dropped and face blanched as the priest who had seen Apollo described him. Inky curls, olive skin, dark eyes with a strong brow and prominent nose. The god possessed an undoubtedly commanding presence, but there was a playfulness, an exuberance to him.

You and Caris traded bewildered glances. The priest’s depiction of Apollo matched up rather perfectly with Phoebus, the young man you’d stumbled across when you’d decided to take a walk through the forest rather than immediately returning home after your visit to the temple.

“It’s him,” she asserted lowly as you all headed back home.

“Shhhh,” you tried to speed up and away from her, a stupid idea because Caris had longer legs than you. When she inevitably caught up with you two seconds later, you insisted, “Don’t be silly.”

“Apollo is the god of healing and diseases. Is it really so far-fetched to believe that he could minimize any pain for his lovers? Especially the virgins?”

“Caris! Enough!”

The vehemence of your demand had caught your mother’s attention. While in the moment you were able to extinguish any suspicions she had, eventually Caris’s big mouth betrayed you. You had expected her to rage. To punish you. You, an unmarried, unbetrothed woman, had engaged in an activity that was the most important gift in your dowry to your future husband. You readied yourself for the insults and reproaches your mother would hurl at you for becoming damaged goods as a marriage prospect.

Yet, she all but kissed your feet when she found out. She rejoiced, then immediately marched you back to the temple to meet with the clerics. That was when the humiliation began. You were examined to ensure that you had in fact been deflowered. As if that hadn’t been degrading enough, you then were stripped and prayed over for hours, leering men begging Apollo for a sign to confirm that you were indeed the one the god had chosen to ravish. The manner in which the priests brusquely groped and prodded at you couldn’t have been more different than the way the deity himself had treated you, the god they claimed to serve.

When a sign didn’t immediately appear, doubt had set in. A mortal woman winning the attention of their patron god was the most momentous thing to happen in your village in generations, so if you were lying? Eternal shame. For you and your family.

You were kept overnight in the temple in a nicely appointed room, but forbidden to see anyone. You cried yourself to sleep, yet much to your relief, at dawn, Apollo provided the confirmation the priests needed and you were allowed to go. Of course, by the time you returned home, everyone knew.

After having a bit of time to contemplate it, you realized that it wasn't so much the fact that every single person in your life began treating you differently that unmoored and overwhelmed you, it was how swiftly it had all happened. It hadn’t been your choice.

You were required at the temple daily now for rituals. Thankfully, the fact you’d lain with a god disqualified you from becoming an acolyte, you were still needed for “veneration” purposes. You soon deduced this meant that the priests simply wanted to keep you around to curry favor with Apollo.

You hated it. You were the only one present in the chamber currently who had ever meaningfully interacted with the deity, yet you were reduced to a glorified altar ornament for their rites.

The only way to weather these hours-long sessions was to recall what brought you here in the first place. You retreated into your memory of that fateful afternoon when you met Apollo.

It’d been a beautiful day, and you were more at ease in nature. The hustle and bustle of the village and the imposing columns of the temple felt suffocating to you.

You’d heard him first before you saw him. The most beautiful music wafted toward you. You couldn’t have turned away if you’d wanted to. It was as if the mixture of the melody he played and the tune he sang had entranced your feet to carry you to the source of the sound. You hadn’t heard the song before, but inexplicably, it had an odd air of familiarity within your ears.

The sight of him initially seemed to be a joke. He had to be a mirage of some sort. A song so gorgeous coming from a man who was even more dazzling? Had you tripped and hit your head on your stroll from the temple? Surely you were dreaming.

His song ceased when he sensed your presence.

“I’m sorry,” your apology tumbled from your lips at once. “Please don’t stop on my account, I didn’t mean to–I’ll leave. I apologize for intruding.”

Before you could tuck and run, he called to you.

“Don’t! There’s no need.”

You froze, and slowly pivoted back to face him. He’d gotten closer to you, which was terrible for your clarity of mind. In addition to his good looks, he radiated an irresistible air of power, and his proximity only compelled you to submit to it more.

“Thank you.”

Suddenly, the man before you turned boyish and shy before he queried, “Would you like to hear more?”

“Please.”

It was the first time you were treated to his smile. It reduced you to a blushing fool with a startling amount of efficiency.

He motioned to a nearby boulder for you to take a seat on. You obeyed instantly. He took his place on a nearby log and resumed plucking at his lyre.

His song was haunting, beguiling, and hopeful all at once. His voice lilted over the lyre’s strings. He sang in a language you didn’t understand, and couldn’t begin to identify, but you were captivated all the same.

You were slightly embarrassed, though not at all surprised, that there were tears staining your cheeks when he concluded.

He grinned dopily when he saw you dabbing at your eyes, “That bad, huh?’

“Stop,” You chuckled through your tears. “You have a gift.”

He shrugged off your compliment with a frustrating amount of nonchalance.

You needed to know more about this mysterious man. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m merely passing through.”

“Are you a minstrel then?”

He smirked as if you’d said something inadvertently humorous to him. “I suppose you could call me that.”

“Well, what should I call you then?”

“Phoebus.”

“Have you traveled much, Phoebus?” you inquired.

“I have.”

“Could you tell me about the places you’ve been? I’ve never left this utterly boring village.”

“I will, if you tell me what keeps you here. Is it your village’s association with the deity?”

You cocked your head in confusion. It was an odd question to you. You strove to answer diplomatically, “While I wouldn’t say that Apollo is driving me away, I wouldn't say he’s keeping me here either.”

Again, that secretive little smirk tugged at the corners of Phoebus’s quite luscious mouth. “I see. He’s vastly overrated isn’t he?”

“Oh I wouldn’t go so far to say that!” you attempt to course-correct. “We’re blessed with his patronage.”

A mischievous glint danced behind Phoebus’s dark, magnetic eyes. “Say no more. Now, where do you want to hear about first?”

He proceeded to regale you with tales of the most wondrous places. Of seas and mountains and monsters and the divine. You got lost within his stories. You wished you could live within them.

It had seemed like the most natural thing in the world to accompany him on a stroll when he suggested it. Typically warnings would blare in your head - you must not stray any further with this handsome stranger, he could sully you, or worse, harm you, but you felt entirely safe with Phoebus. At the time, it had been impossible to put your finger on why you’d felt so. Now, it was abundantly clear: you’d been in the presence of one of the most powerful creatures in all of existence. Still, he chatted and wandered with you in a remarkably similar manner to mortal men your age.

When you two came across a river and Phoebus proposed a swim, your cheeks had burned with sheepishness. He hadn’t mocked or derided you, he simply offered to turn away while you undressed and submerged yourself into the water to afford you some modesty. However, Phoebus hadn’t been quite as bashful as you had been when disrobing. In fact, the flourish with which he all but flung off his chiton led you to believe he wanted you to watch him, rather than avert your eyes like you immediately did once you realized what he was doing. You hadn’t been quick enough however, and had caught a delectable glimpse of his toned chest, thick thighs, and what you deduced was a well-endowed groin.

You only dared look back up when you heard the splash signaling his entrance into the river. He resurfaced with his black curls matted and slicked back against his skull, an impish grin on his lips. He reached for you and you floated to him without hesitation. The feel of his bare skin against yours was intoxicating.

“I want to kiss you,” he murmured, even though you two were the only people around for at least a mile.

“You may,” you granted him permission in a similarly hushed tone.

Your lips drifted together, and then it was as if you had become a feral animal let out of its cage. You couldn’t get enough. Your lips moved against his ravenously, your legs wrapping around his torso on instinct when he moved toward the river’s bank. While the press of his arousal against your hip was certainly a foreign sensation, you weren’t afraid. He deposited you on the warm silt for a moment before retrieving your tunic and laying it under you, a makeshift bed for what was about to come.

It was then that you confessed. You didn’t know what to expect once the words left your mouth - judgment, indifference, a perverse excitement - but Phoebus smiled softly, and nodded his head, as if he’d expected it.

“Then I shall show you how beautiful pleasure can be,” he vowed.

He took his time, dipping his head between your breasts to mouth at your pert nipples, then lower to between your legs. When the tip of his nose drew a featherlight line along the seam of your sex, you gasped. You may have been a virgin, but you weren't totally naive. Caris had been betrothed recently and regaled you constantly about her rendezvous with her soon-to-be husband, but she had never mentioned this. It was as if Phoebus was sending you flying through the clouds, straight to Olympus, with only his tongue. Your fingers had wound into his damp curls to hold on for dear life as you fell apart for him.

It wasn’t until your pleasure crested that he slid a thick, suspiciously uncalloused finger through your folds and pressed it inside. He cooed comforts to you when you tightened around him, your body’s first reaction to try and expel the intrusion. One digit became two, and after a while, he guided your hand to manhood, showing you how to grip him, coaxing and coaching you on how to bring him back to hardness.

Caris had always advised you to shut your eyes and not to look at a man’s member for too long, since it wasn’t the most pleasant of sights. She was wrong in this instance. Every bit of Phoebus was mesmerizing, and his erect cock was no different from the rest of him. His encouragements echoed in your ears as if he was speaking them to you in the present.

“Yes, that’s it sunshine,” he’d panted, “You can grip me tighter, oh, that is lovely. You are a fast learner, aren’t you? I’m going to make you feel so very good.”

Becoming one had been the most intense sensation you had ever endured. It was all too much, yet you wanted more. You keened when Phoebus had draped your legs over his broad shoulders to penetrate you deeper, your skin suddenly feeling too tight. It was too much, it was too much, you’d chanted to yourself. Phoebus’s girth was unrelenting, but at the same time you never wanted it to end.

Your lover was an attuned one, so when he observed that the position was perhaps too vigorous for his little virgin, he’d rolled you over so you were straddling his ample hips and speared on his desire.

“Here, grasp onto my shoulders,” he instructed you, “so you can control the depth and the pace, yes?”

Phoebus had long fucked the words out of you, so your reply came as a breathless, frantic nod. You wished to thank him, truly, you couldn’t have asked for a more considerate man to share this with for the first time. Instead, you did as he said and found a tempo and pattern of undulating your hips against his that suited you.

Phoebus couldn’t help himself, he began meeting your pelvis, thrusting up into you. You howled in pleasure, and his gaze instantly searched out yours to confirm those were good sounds instead of pained ones. He didn’t look away once he had found the answer he was hoping for in your eyes. Those deep brown irises had bore into yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more convinced you were they held galaxies.

You were so caught up in Phoebus’s gaze that you didn’t notice he’d snuck a hand in between your bodies until the pad of his finger connected with your sensitive bud.

“There you go sunshine, let go for me, you can let go.”

You felt as if you were going to explode out of your body as Phoebus continued to repeat those sweet-nothings as if they were a prayer.

“Let go for me darling, I know you can, let go–”

“You may go.”

The high priest's imperious tone snapped you out of your reverie. No longer were you in the forest with Phoe–Apollo, but rather the towering temple consecrated to him. Your relief that you could leave superseded your annoyance at being interrupted. You desperately needed to return to the privacy of your bedroom for a bit of self-relief.

Perhaps it was because you were in such a rush that you didn’t initially notice him as you flew out of the side entrance of the temple. It was his voice that stopped you.

“You’re not with child.”

“Holy Hera! You frightened me!” You put a hand to your chest to calm your beating heart.

“So you can stop fretting." Clearly, Apollo wasn’t particularly remorseful about the scare he'd given you. "Though to be honest, I’m surprised you’re relieved. Most women, beings far more divine than yourself, are usually thrilled to carry my offspring. They clamber for the chance and flaunt their bellies if they conceive.”

“I…I could not withstand the attention, I do not think. Nor the pomp and the responsibility.”

“The priests would help with the burden.”

“Yes but the child’s father wouldn’t,” you pointed out. “As great an honor to mother a demigod would be, I would prefer a…someone to experience it all with.”

Apollo nodded. “That I could not give you.”

“I know,” There was no resentment or disappointment in your voice. “I would never expect you to.”

“That must be why I yearn for you still,” Apollo mused, “why I cannot stay away.”

“I...my family is expecting me.”

Apollo was not accustomed to being refused. He fixed you with a look of amused incredulity after you spoke.

“I do not want them to know. Or anyone for that matter.” You realized how ungrateful you sounded. To spurn a god was to write your own death sentence. “Not that I don’t desire you, or that I wish to disregard your desires–”

“You want me all to yourself.” When you opened your mouth to amend his statement, he stopped you. “It’s alright. I want you all to myself too.”

“You have me,” you averred. “However, when the priests and my mother get involved…”

“I understand. I do not wish for fanfare either.” He pulled you close to him. Your breath hitched at the press of his hardness into your hip through both of your chitons.

Your mouths were millimeters apart. Instead of closing the distance, you asked, “Why did you tell me a false name when we first met?”

He smiled that bright, beatific grin that warmed you from the inside out. “I suppose for the same reason that you want to keep this a secret. If you believe your family is meddling, then mine is…”

Apollo didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to understand. You giggled, a sound he much enjoyed. At last, he captured your lips with his. Kissing Apollo melted you, you became a molten, liquid being when he pressed his lips to yours.

As transcendent as the kiss was, the god could feel that you were holding back. “What’s wrong, sunshine?”

You were not proud of the flip your stomach did at the pet name. Once you regained control of yourself, you replied, “Nothing, nothing at all. Forgive me.”

“Don’t apologize, simply tell me what is bothering you,” he countered, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

When you hesitated, his fingers tilted your head up so your eyes met. “I won’t be angry.”

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to voice your complaint. It was funny, you’d spent your entire life beseeching Apollo for this or that in the temple, yet when he was standing right in front of you, eager to know what troubled you, you couldn’t find the words.

“Why me?” It was a deflection from Apollo’s question, but still a valid inquiry.

He chuckled. “You’re asking me to apply logic to attraction, something inherently instinctual,” Apollo pointed out. “Though if I had to try to put reasoning to it, I would say it was because you are kind, beautiful, you have a tight, juicy little cunt…” he cupped your mound to demonstrate his point. You gasped at the contact. “...and when I’m with you, I feel the most like a mortal that I've felt in decades.”

Mortal? Was that a bad thing? Were you unintentionally insulting the deity?

Apollo was quick to assuage you, “I enjoy it, sunshine. The immediacy, the urgency. It’s refreshing. You’re refreshing.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. You sought to return his kind words but what was there to say? It was obvious why a mortal such as yourself would fall for a god.

“Now, I won’t ask again. What vexes you?’

“I…after we…our first meeting,” you struggled to select the right words, “the priests wanted to corroborate that we’d lain together, and their methods were…they were not very gentle.”

Your lover’s eyes turned stormy. No sooner had you told him did a crack sound from what you guessed was inside the temple.

“No, please! Don’t hurt anyone!” you begged him just as swiftly.

Apollo’s face softened slightly. “Even after they violated you, you show them compassion. I swear to you I won’t, however, I must ensure that you, and by extension, myself are treated with respect.”

“Of course,” you acquiesced. Gods were not known for their mercy, so the fact he was willing to compromise with you at all was a victory.

Apollo pulled you into another kiss that stole your breath. “If I cannot have you now…then tonight. When the moon peaks in the sky.”

“How will I find you?”

A smirk played across his lips. “Don’t fret, sunshine. I shall ensure it.”

A/N: Sooooo…what do we think?! 🫣 A little more flowery than my usual but I just had too much fun with this and now I have ideas for a few installments 🤦‍♀️

READ PART TWO

Tagging a few folks who might be interested:

@bitch4marvel @luciannadraven33 @oof-its-roobi @twwcs, @ninebluehearts @damnzelsoul @missmarmaladeth @welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction , @romanarose @dameronscopilot

#Oscar Isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac smut #Apollo #greek mythology #Greek mythology AU #oscar isaac thirst hours #oscar isaac x you #oscar issac x reader #oscar isaac fanfic #Oscar Isaac x female reader #reader insert #oscar isaac greek god au

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hellsingmongrel · 4 months

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Man, so I'm not normally the biggest fan of Modern AUs, nor am I overly fond of fiction focused on kids, but...last night, my sleeping brain decided to concoct this Trigun (Stampede-flavored) Modern AU that now is living rent free in my damn brain! I want to get it out of my head and into the ether. I don't know if I'm going to do anything long-form with it, and I'm having to translate dream weirdness into more coherent storytelling, but here we go.

So it's modern day Earth, like 2024 or some shit, right? And that's when this version of Earth had just begun fucking around with Plant cloning. It's early enough that the SEEDS project hasn't even left the planet, the scientists haven't yet figured out how to put Plants in bulbs and use them for fuel, none of that! But they've already had Tessla happen, and the boys have already been born. Since they're not in space, even though they had to have found out about their sister, Nai hasn't had a chance to literally nuke humanity from orbit, and I guess Rem has had a chance to try and curtail some of his trauma, so he's...more stable? Ish? Stable enough where he's not actively trying to murder everyone. And the boys are "older," like we see in the flashbacks for the time Vash encountered Nai during the Last Run, so probably around 6 years old but looking 16 or so.

Rem has managed to fudge their paperwork so they've started going to school with human kids, to try and give them a normal childhood. Nai isn't as eager to play ball with the whole "being human" thing as much as Vash is, but Vash has got so many friends, Meryl and Milly and Lina are there and they're like the cutest, most stupidly adorable group of friends, just a bunch of little goofballs, like kids that age are. And the school has a field trip to a theme park (it was Disneyworld in my dream because my school actually did this, but ours was a band trip) and Vash manages to convince Rem to let him go. Vash and Nai and Rem are still paranoid about humans figuring out who they are, so you know, he's told to be extra careful and take care of himself, and Nai gives him one of his blades or something for self defense, just in case something happens. Even though Vash would never, that boy has trauma around knives and trying to defend himself, if you've read Trimax, iykyk. But he takes it anyway, and somehow, he manages to sneak it into the park. Maybe the metal doesn't register on metal detectors or something, who knows.

But he's a kid, and kids are dumb. Especially when they're 16. Especially if those 16 year olds aren't actually 16 and don't have the actual lived experience to know better. So he starts playing with the knife in front of the girls, showing off and just being a silly little guy. And then the knife slips. Bad. We're talking "this is how he probably lost his arm in this AU" bad. Blood everywhere, the girls are panicking and take him to the school chaperones and it's like "HOLY SHIT WTF DUDE, We're taking you to the ER, someone call his mom!"

And he hears that, pictures the doctors finding out he's not human, remembers what happened to Tessla, and panics. Boy does a runner like only Vash can do, and he manages to get away from them, out of the park, and escapes from security. And when parents get involved in trying to find him, the authorities start looking into the incident, and someone in the government overseeing the Plant research is able to recognize the elemental make up of the blade he dropped, and they start having suspicions. So the feds get involved, and it just goes from bad to worse, right?

Meanwhile, loopy from blood loss and panicking and a little sobbing mess because he feels dumb about slipping up and he's afraid he'll never get to go home to his mom and his brother again and is spiraling the way kids do when they panic, he gets lost in the city and ends up stumbling over teenage Wolfwood, who lives on the streets and has a few street kids that he looks after on his own with Livio. They never got to live at the orphanage, but that also means that the Eye (in whatever form it takes in this AU) never got ahold of them, so yeah, shits fucked for them, but it's actually a whole lot better for them than it might have been. And it's Wolfwood without all of the EoM trauma, so you can just imagine what he does when this delirious, bloody, terrified, severely injured kid runs him over in the street, sobbing about being caught by the adults and taken away.

Big Brother Nico do what Big Brother Nico do.

At that point, I ended up waking up, but damn if my brain didn't give me enough details to come up with a dumb AU idea that I kind of love and want to do something with, but I don't know if I have the time or spoons to do so.

Ideas I'd had following this beginning to flesh itself out in my head; Luida and Brad are Plant researchers brought onto the project to help the feds figure out wtf is going on with this whole situation, and when Luida is told to talk to Rem, because she's not giving them anything they can use, the two of them reach a secret accord to bring Vash home safe and sound and cover everything back up nice and squeaky clean the way it should have stayed.

Vash's arm is bad enough that he can't really heal it very well on his own without medical care, Plant healing or no. He's doing better than most kids would, but it still begins to go septic, and it forces Nico and Livio to make the really hard decision to find adults they can trust to bring him to so he can get the care he needs. He still ends up losing his arm, though.

At the end of everything, Melanie ends up taking Nico and Livio and the other kids in, so they still get to have their momma figure, even if she comes in later. Maybe she's the one that they find to help them. Is she maybe someone they've known was mostly safe but was never able to get them to stick around long enough to take care of them? Either way, the boys get Vash to her, and it starts the process of getting him home and the kids finally staying at the orphanage.

Meryl, Milly, and Lina all end up sneaking away when they realize that Vash is in more trouble than the adults are letting on, trying to go find him, since they know him better than anyone other than Rem and Nai. Eventually, they meet up with Nico and Livio while everyone is trying to avoid federal agents.

Obviously it's lovey-dovey Vashwood and Insurance Girlfriends and Polygun-flavored, but in the "these kids are too oblivious to think about sexy things, yet" sort of way, because I really do headcanon that at least Vash is ace, Wolfwood is probably demi, and also I am not writing children getting intimate like that. >8/ But kids having little crushes on each other is adorable and I can't not have Vashwood and Insurance Girlfriends be the eventual outcome, once those idiots all grow up and get their heads screwed on straight.

Also, because Nai hasn't had a chance to murder everyone, Rem's managed to work with him enough that he's very slowly overcoming his trauma and regaining his ability to trust that he's not in permanent danger. He'll probably grow up to be a Plants Rights activist or something, lbh. Or a politician. But he's not going to murder people, so either way, it's a win/win!

Because Nico's been living on the streets with him, Razlo either hasn't had to manifest as strongly for Livio, or hasn't manifested at all. Livio is still the sweet, shy, crybaby teddy bear we see, and maybe Razlo only comes out when the feds start getting closer and almost managing to grab the kids, and because he's been able to bond with Nico and the other kids so well this time, Livio is close enough to them that the thought of them getting hurt or taken away is enough to make him want to protect their little group instead of just Livio.

Wolfwood absolutely grumbles about how alike Vash and Livio are. Both a couple'a crybabies, geez, what the Hell you two??? But he also is very much a teddy bear who gives the best hugs when one of his little band of gremlins is upset, so he probably spends more time in a cuddle pile than anything else, now that there's two of them to lose their shit at the drop of a hat.

Vash was totally the one very sweet boy in a clique of girls that everyone who'd known him realized, when they were adults looking back, that he was very much the sweet gay kid hanging out with the girls because it was safer to be himself around them than it was to be around the other boys. (This isn't meant as a stereotype of gay kids, this is based on actual kids I grew up with. My friend group honest to God adopted them because we were all a bunch of momma bears.)

Vash is also...not trans? Because he's a Plant and Plants don't work the same way humans do, but he's also not what humans would think of as a cis boy. He expresses a masc presentation, but probably the closest equivalent would be an intersexed kid. Nai, too, tbh, though he's probably more of the "I don't give a fuck" opinion when it comes to his own gender identity. He uses he/him because that's what humans think when they see him, but he doesn't care any deeper than that.

#Trigun #Trigun Stampede #Trigun Maximum #Modern AU #Vashwood #Polygun #Insurance Wives #Random idea ramblings idek I just have this in my head now and I'm going to make it the world's problem!#Also any ideas anyone else might have about this would be fun to hear #I don't know that they'll become part of my own headcanon on this weird little thing but I always love throwing out random ideas with peopl #What even are the Eye of Michael doing in this thing?#IDEK maybe they're the feds chasing the kids down #Also I wouldn't be at all surprised if Nai did a runner on his own after he found out Vash was missing because he needed to go save him #I honestly imagined the whole thing ending up being a media shitstorm #“Young Boy Goes Missing From School Field Trip; News At 10!”#“Is Missing Boy Secretly An Alien From Outer Space?”#“Federal Agents Are Now Searching For Known Delinquent Youth In Case Of Missing High School Boy”#That sort of craziness on the media that makes it impossible to ignore Independent Plants #And starts the entire Plants Rights movement when the truth comes out or something

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candybowbeansies · 1 year

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warnings/notes: completely sfw thoughts on knivesxhuman reader and one of his sisters who is a bit more sentient than the rest, and the bond between her and reader. she gets plantnapped twice, once away from reader, and twice being by her brother Nai. its not fleshed out whatsoever, just some snippets, thotz, and ideas, plus a new tag!

~~~

this idea has been living rent-free in my head for awhile now...knivesxreader, the reader being a human orphan(the last human alive in their town for one reason or another) who had/has a v special connection with an eccentric Plant. she(the Plant) looks and acts exactly like her sisters, can't speak and is a source of power, etc except she is slightly more sentient than them, being able to form simple emotional attachments similar to a child to a bunny rabbit they see at a pet store, except it's much longer lasting because she took care of reader to the best of her ability, being unable to survive outside her special container. its like an elephant's memory. you save them, and they remember you the rest of their life.

Her name is Magic(or any other name you'd prefer, Magic bc as a child reader thought the glowing lights beneath her skin was magic) courtesy of reader.

Another thought...if Magic was stolen from reader, who was left to die and was eventually picked up by knives, and many years later knives unknowingly reunites them. reader made a point to always be there to welcome knives back when he had returned from retrieving his sisters hoping that Magic was still alive, and reader knows it's Magic the moment they lay eyes on her.

So imagine his surprise when reader yells out Magic, approaching far too close without a thought. His surprise when he hears his sister react and sees her bloom for a human.

its like an elephant's memory. a human child in their innocence genuinely tried to take care of her, and she tried to take care of the human child in turn.

His surprise when the lights beneath her skin flare giddily as she presses her hands against the glass, then her forehead.

His surprise that he finds himself falling in love with reader the moment they mimic her tender, affectionate actions; a show of hers and your bond.

And when he hears it. When he hears his sister who was used and abused by humans had technically adopted a human(similar to how humans adopt animals and take care of them if u squint bc i dont like any form of cest, e.g stepcest, incest, plantcest)...he falls harder. Because he believes from that moment on that the reader is the purest. Far too pure for their kind.

And they are; the tears of happiness from them and the display of joy from his sister when he makes arrangements for the two to live as close to eachother as possible proves it.

Take this and run, do with it what you will if you want, just please tag me for the love of knives if it fuels your creativity <3

#✨🍭🎀.beanz thotz✨#millions knives #millions knives x reader #millions knives x you #trigun stampede millions knives x reader #knives x reader #nai x reader

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shuckinbeanz · 1 year

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warnings/notes: completely sfw thoughts on knivesxhuman reader and one of his sisters who is a bit more sentient than the rest, and the bond between her and reader. she gets plantnapped twice, once away from reader, and twice being by her brother Nai. its not completely fleshed out and some things need to be changed but idc, its just some snippets, thotz, and ideas, plus a new tag!

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

Tags:@dynamightsdaydream

~~~

Her name is Magic(or any other name you'd prefer, Magic bc as a child reader thought the glowing lights beneath her skin was magic) courtesy of reader.

So imagine his surprise when reader yells out Magic, approaching far too close without a thought. His surprise when he hears his sister react and sees her bloom for a human.

its like an elephant's memory. a human child in their innocence genuinely tried to take care of her, and she tried to take care of the human child in turn.

His surprise when the lights beneath her skin flare giddily as she presses her hands against the glass, then her forehead.

His surprise that he finds himself falling in love with reader the moment they mimic her tender, affectionate actions; a show of hers and your bond.

And when he hears it. When he hears his sister who was used and abused by humans had technically adopted a human(similar to how humans adopt animals and take care of them if u squint bc i dont like any form of cest, e.g step, in, plant)...he falls harder. Because he believes from that moment on that the reader is the purest. Far too pure for their kind.

And they are; the tears of happiness from them and the display of joy from his sister when he makes arrangements for the two to live as close to eachother as possible proves it.

Take this and run, do with it what you will if you want, just please tag me for the love of knives if it fuels your creativity <3

#✨beanz thotz✨#millions knives #millions knives x reader #millions knives x you #trigun stampede millions knives x reader #knives x reader #nai x reader

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1000punks · 2 months

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bonding. ᵇᵒⁿᵘˢ//living

bonding. //masterlist

pairing: spawn!Astarion x named!Tav (non-binary OC)

warnings: 18+. nsft. mdni. smut, pwp, creampie (if you... squint?).

word count: 3,436

summary: two gays remodel a house domestic fluff and some character background building, set in post-game baldur's gate. two people who are weird and traumatized work on their relationship and reclaim their sexuality through a shared kink. lots of gooey romantic smut while these two slowly figure out their future together.

named!Tav is my non-binary tiefling ranger, Festé. i was seeing far too few fics with tiefling!Tav and i thought it was crucial, nay, critical to include them in the headcanons. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

header credit: here

Astarion approached them when he was ready, as before. It had taken a few days, and Festé respectfully kept their distance - even moving to their own bed in the rented rooms. He woke them up on the third night with nothing more than a cool palm against the small of their back. The tiefling had startled, lifting their cheek from the pillow.

They had already talked through the immediate aftermath when they were both still covered in viscera, then the elf had grown quiet. It was uncharacteristic of him. Festé rolled over slowly, looking up at him and smiling after a moment. He returned a shy one of his own. "Let's go downstairs, darling," the elf whispered, holding their boots out to them. "I want to talk." They nodded silently, following him into the din of the tavern and out to the street. Astarion turned once they were outdoors, looking a little lost.

"Star, what-" Festé started.

"There's something I'd like to show you, if that's all right? Something out in the city." He attempted an airy tone, but the tiefling knew better. A serious conversation was on the horizon.

"Of course," they whispered, holding out their hand. "Lead on."

He looked relieved as he took it. "This way. It's not far." The elf set an easy pace, and the two reached the familiar stone enclosure on the far side of the Lower City within ten minutes. Once entering, Astarion released their hand and drew a long breath; and Festé suspected that he was steeling himself. He continued forwards, and they followed in silence, stopping short when they watched him kneel at a particularly overgrown headstone. Calmly, he pried the vine and ivy from the face of the stone, and straightened up. Festé squinted at the partially faded name, and bit their lip with a nod as he cleared his throat.

"Nearly two hundred years, and I never came back. Not since the night I woke up down there." He gestured vaguely to the ground. "I had to punch a hole in the coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt." The comments he had made, more than once, about ruining his nails took on a stark new meaning under the moonlight, the tiefling mused. Astarion's head bowed slightly as they studied him. "Then when I finally broke the surface, retching up dirt and congealed blood… Cazador was waiting. From that day on, I was his. Until today…" His voice was thick, and Festé drew closer, standing at his side. To their surprise, their cheeks were wet.

"How does it feel to be free?" The tiefling whispered.

"Exhilarating," he paused, glancing at them; and they edged closer. "Terrifying. Exhausting." Astarion's fingers ghosted over their wrist, searching for something, they guessed, to ground him in the moment. Slowly, they turned their hand over, and his fingertips brushed their palm. "There's almost nothing left of the person I was. Just a name on a rock." His eyes hadn't left the headstone, but they watched him, wanting to reach out and rest a reassuring hand on his cheek. They thought better of it - if he wanted touch, he would seek it out. "For nearly two centuries, I stalked the streets like a ghost while the person I was lay here, dead and buried." The elf's tone lightened marginally, and he lifted his chin, smirking grimly. "Now… I need to figure out who I am. What I want."

As he turned to face them, his smile widened. Festé drew a breath to steady themself. "And… what do you want?" Their voice, though a whisper, seemed too loud in the silence of the graveyard.

He furrowed his eyebrows, grinning at them as if the answer was obvious. "You… I want you." Oh. Festé's arms went slack at their sides. They knew that they wanted this, and dared to hope; but he wanted them too? The tiefling turned their gaze to the ground. Was it wise? After everything, were they truly allowed this flicker of happiness? Cazador was slain, but Faerûn was still in peril, wasn't it? They could still both die tomorrow. Their eyes snapped back to his when he continued, his voice echoing softly off the stone walls. "You were by my side through all of this. Through bloodlust, and pain, and misery. You were patient. You cared. You trusted me, when that was an objectively stupid thing to do." His smirk wasn't lost on them - he was teasing, but his words were the truth. They bit their lip; things felt suddenly more significant. Astarion knew, perhaps better than anyone, that tomorrow wasn't a promise, but he was being courageous despite all of that. It would have been so much easier for him to stay quiet, and to keep his feelings to himself, but he was here before them. He was… "I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don't want to lose that."

Tears were streaming freely down Festé's cheeks now, but their voice was strong. "You won't," they promised. "Whatever comes next, I've got you."

"Thank you," the elf breathed. They smiled when they heard the relief in his voice. "Well… I should probably fix this." Astarion knelt down once more, producing his dagger from its sheath, another smile curling his lips. Festé watched intently as he carved an addition into the stone, their knees nearly giving way when they saw what it was. They looked away for a moment, scanning the grasses surrounding the two of them before they found it, a few feet to their left. As Astarion was sitting down, they returned to his side, laying the unassuming white flower on his grave. He looked surprised at the gesture. "Cute," he teased. The tiefling rolled their eyes. The flower wasn't common, but they knew it fit the situation perfectly. Maybe they would be able to tell him the story one day. They knelt down with him, and there was a brief silence.

"I've been dead in the ground for long enough." The elf's voice was soft, not sultry, but soft; and they fought the urge to reach out to him. To cling to him and assure him that everything would be all right. But they stayed in place, feeling conflicted. Everything might not be all right, but they would be together. "It's time to try living again. With everything life has to offer." Astarion moved then, startling them by taking their hands. Festé searched for a hidden meaning in his words, chuckling nervously as they met his eyes.

"Meaning…?" There was a pregnant pause after they spoke. His eyes narrowed, something changing behind them. Something that the ranger had trouble pinning down.

"If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded." Was he serious? They searched his eyes once more, but he beat them to it. "You know, I didn't care for you when we first met." Festé blushed, feeling ashamed for a moment. "…But I do now. Being with you is about more than… lust or manipulating you into a tactical alliance. I love you. I love this. And I want it all." When he leaned close, Festé almost moved away out of surprise. Or was it fear? Then his lips were on theirs and it didn't matter. The tiefling's fists clenched, their fingernails cutting into their palms; and they kissed him back with reckless abandon. As if he were air when they were drowning. Astarion was the light glimmering above the surface of the water.

They were certain he could hear their heart hammering against their ribs when he pulled away, and pushed them to the ground. Certain that it was a joke, or a cruel twist of fate. The tiefling was breathless, panting as they looked up at him. Before they could speak, he was against them once more, crawling over their body. They let out a sob of relief when his lips met theirs again, their fingers unsure for the first time in their life as they wound into his hair. Astarion pushed his knee up, taking their thigh with it; and he rested on top of them fully. Festé started to shake, matching the fervor in the pale elf's lips, giving his hair a gentle tug.

He broke away reluctantly, stiffening. "Darling… why are you crying?" His voice was velvet as he pecked at their cheek. "Did I…?"

"No, no," they hissed softly, burying their face in Astarion's neck. "No, gods, no. I love you too. I love you so much, Star," they gasped between messy kisses over his skin. "I'm s… I'm so happy."

"You have an interesting way of showing it, don't you, love?" He murmured, and they chuckled wetly. "Don't scare me like that, you little imp." Astarion rested his nose against theirs for a moment before he coaxed their lips apart with his once more. Festé hummed, pressing up against the elf as much as they could manage, fingers pulling gently through his hair. He let out an interesting sound at that.

"Did you just moan, Star?" they whispered against his lips while they shifted under him, and he scoffed.

"I… no," he hissed back. "Hush, I'm enjoying this, darling." One of his hands snaked up the front of their shirt, and Festé twitched bodily. "Have I ever told you how warm you are?" His voice was so quiet, that it seemed like he was saying it to himself. They felt the tip of his tongue trace the line of their neck; and his heavy sigh against their skin. With no warning, the elf sat up between Festé's thighs, giving them a curious look while pulling their shirt up. His hands shook when he smoothed them over the tiefling's stomach.

"Do you want-" They whispered, resting their hands over his, and he nodded quickly, anticipating the rest of their question. Festé smirked, unlacing their shirt before Astarion all but tore it open. The rough motion was immediately contrasted with soft fingertips against their sternum, and another heavy sigh. Astarion shook his head at them, raising an eyebrow as he rolled his hips forward slowly.

"You're so…" his voice was roughened, and the moonlight made his eyes flicker when he tilted his head.

"Beautiful?" the tiefling teased.

"Alive, love," the elf countered, pressing his hips forward once more as he caught theirs in his grip. "Bare-chested, under the moon, your skin all flushed." He chuckled softly. "'Beautiful' pales in comparison to all of that." Festé felt their chest tighten as he spoke; and they reached up, clutching gently at the front of the elf's shirt. Astarion bent down willingly, crushing his lips to theirs, and groaning softly in approval as Festé undid the buttons. The two kissed harshly, the tiefling's fingers splaying over his chest and pushing the fabric down his shoulders. Cautiously, they trailed their fingers down his sides, untucking his shirt; and his answering touch came at the hem of their pants, pulling roughly. Festé whimpered softly, dragging the heel of their boot on the ground before kicking it off with a grunt. Before the suggestion even formed on their tongue, Astarion had freed one leg from their pants, and was working on their smallclothes. They kissed him fervently, hands tangled in the front of his shirt - now hanging loosely around his shoulders. Finally, he stopped them, pressing one palm to their chest; and one of their hands found his wrist, curling their fingers around it. The elf's eyes were half-lidded, and he gazed down at them with a hunger that had only ever been present when he was about to feed from them.

"Star, do you want to stop…?" they whispered, and confusion crossed Astarion's features. He slipped his free hand between their bodies, palming over their clit as his fingers dragged through their slick folds. Festé stiffened below him. At the same time, he caught their wrist instead, guiding their hand to the front of his trousers.

"Does it look like I want to stop, darling?" The elf murmured softly. "Does it feel like I want to stop?" He pressed to their hand with a low, pleasured groan. "I assure you, little love… I am here, and I want nothing more in this moment than to be completely engulfed by you." He smiled as Festé felt a rush of heat creep up their neck and cheeks, pausing to undo his trousers before guiding the tiefling's hand into them. "Do you want to stop?" he asked, dipping one finger inside them. It sent chills up Festé's legs and spine, and they clamped their mouth shut around a moan before shaking their head. Slowly, they took him in hand, and he rolled his hips, leaning down as they sat up halfway. Somewhere in the middle, their lips met again, stifling their moans into one another's mouths. Astarion pushed his finger inside them fully, and Festé let out a shaky sigh through their nose. He pulled away, kissing along their jaw, dragging the tips of his fangs along their neck. They took a breath, their eyes snapping open when they heard his desperate whispers against their skin. "I need… love, I want, mmh…" Desperate? The imp blinked, turning their head wearily.

"Take," they whispered in return. "Please, Star, just…" and in less than a heartbeat, the elf had them pinned under his body, slipping his hand deftly from between their legs to pin one wrist above their head on the ground, the other gripping their thigh. Festé guided him inside, fisting their hand in the back of his shirt when his hips laid to rest against theirs. Both let out a harsh sigh, looking down between their bodies. The tiefling felt surprise mix with relief and a delicious heat deep in their chest as Astarion nosed at their neck. He experimented with a roll of his hips, and he shuddered above them.

"Gods below, there's nobody in the realm that I would rather do this with, I…" his voice broke with a pleasured groan against their shoulder. Festé angled their hips up slowly, letting him sink deeper, and he seized the opportunity to slide his arm underneath them. "Forgive me if I'm too…"

"I want it too, believe me," the imp gritted out as he trailed off. "Please, be as rough as you want, I can take it. I can take you, Star." There was a significant pause, and Astarion's full weight was pressing them into the dirt, his hips starting to rut at a slow pace. They stifled a moan, and he released their wrist, his hand moving down to clamp over their mouth instead as his head lifted.

"You shouldn't have said that, little love," his eyes met theirs as he hissed, and Festé moaned out roughly against his palm, bucking their hips to meet his increasingly hard thrusts. Their own hand shot up, fingers pushing into his hair and twisting gently, eyelids fluttering as they ground against him. Their effort earned them a quiet laugh before Astarion's eyebrows furrowed; and the elf sat up, pulling one of their legs over his shoulder. "Oh, darling… I fear that I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he purred. They chuckled softly at that, humming out an answer against his palm and narrowing their eyes. He smirked, pressing deeply into them and forcing a scream to rip from their chest, followed by several needy sobs. Astarion lifted his palm from their mouth, hips snapping forwards once again; and grinning widely when Festé's cries filled the silence of the cemetery.

They were both panting heavily now, and the tiefling reached up once more, grabbing at Astarion's shirt collar this time and pulling him as close as they could manage. "I can't, I'm… I'm going to…" they managed between shaking gasps. Their mind felt clouded - his hips hadn't stopped moving. He hushed them softly, brushing his lips on theirs; and their body went limp below his, slave to the heat radiating from their middle. From the way he had started to twitch inside them, Festé could tell that the elf wasn't far behind. In fact, he slowly began to withdraw from them, and they let out a groan of despair. "What are you… What are you doing?" they hissed softly, their eyes widening as their gaze met his. Again, Astarion looked confused, his hand was midway down between the two of them, ready to finish himself off. They glanced down, remembering how he had pulled away the first time, and kicked their leg off his shoulder.

"I'm… Surely you don't want me to…" he stammered, looking shaken. "Not inside, at least." Astarion hadn't stopped moving, but his pace had slowed considerably. His eyes flicked down as Festé hooked their legs together at the small of his back.

"You're allowed to, if that's what you're worried about," they smoothed their palm over his chest and up the back of his neck as he leaned down, anchoring his palms on either side of their shoulders.

"I am?" he breathed, starting to rut into them firmly once more, his eyes hooded as the tiefling dragged their fingertips through his hair. "I would like to, I just… I assumed…" The elf trailed off as he left a messy row of kisses down the imp's neck, finally sinking a bite into their shoulder, a muffled moan punctuating his own release. The pair moved slowly together through the aftershocks, and Astarion's arms gently slipped under Festé's shoulders and hips, crushing their body to his. There was a long, pensive silence as they lay together under the moon.

Gently, Festé pulled their fingers through the elf's curls, and he let out a satisfied sigh. Their lips found his ear, and they whispered, "I have no qualms about being yours, Star." He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed when he lifted his head and laid eyes on their face.

"I can see that," the elf teased, glancing down between their bodies and chuckling; before resting on top of them once more. "I promise, darling," he murmured against their neck, "One day, I will bed you properly."

"Well, we'll need a bed, for starters," Festé shrugged. They laughed together, and some of the tension evaporated. "Mm, I'm serious, if we both survive this, we could consider settling down somewhere." The elf hummed, and they added, "If you're up for it."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The pair had dressed again after a fashion, and mutually decided they wanted to stay in the quiet of the cemetery for a while longer. Astarion had settled with his back against his own headstone, and held Festé when they reclined between his legs. They tracked the slow progress of the moon across the night sky as they spoke quietly together. The elf was tracing lazy patterns with his fingers over their stomach and chest when they glanced up at him.

"What is it?" he whispered, hand pausing on their chest.

"What does love feel like, to you?" the tiefling asked, resting their hand on his. Astarion bit his lip, holding their gaze for a moment before resting his head back against the stone.

"I don't know, darling," he admitted after a moment. "Warmth, perhaps? Maybe it's about… transcending the physical. It feels…" he shifted slightly against them, "Like an invisible rope. Something that can tie two people together; and yet, a great number of us hang ourselves on it in the end." Festé closed their eyes, bringing their free hand to their mouth as they faced away from him. They shoved their knuckles between their teeth, but their laugh still escaped their chest. "What?!" Astarion hissed, then, "Why are you laughing?"

Festé shook against him, trying to keep quiet. "That was so cheerful, Star. I…" they murmured sardonically. "I have to say I agree, though. I asked because I don't really know how to answer that question, either." They glanced up at him again, and he rolled his eyes. "I do hope that, between us, at least, it's something that ties us together. Not something that forces us apart, in the end." They held up their hand, offering it to the elf. After a moment's hesitation, he took it.

"Well, we're together now, at least," he sighed airily. "I hope that doesn't change any time soon." Astarion squeezed their hand tightly. "Mm… call my name again, darling," he murmured, pressing his face into their shoulder.

"Star…" Festé whispered, and he hummed happily.

"Again…?"

"As many times as you like, Star." This time they chuckled, and turned to kiss his temple softly. "I love you."

a/n: hey all! thank you for reading this (whether you started at the beginning of this series or are reading this as a oneshot) - i appreciate you!

i have an unpopular opinion about the graveyard scene, and it involves a lot of unresolved messy emotions and tension. i don't feel like after cazador's death a magic wand is waved and astarion is head over heels, personally. -- for festé and astarion specifically, i feel it would make sense for it to be messy and maybe it would feel as awkward and foreign as the first time you have sex with someone you really like but don't want to hurt. you ever feel that? no? just me? (lmao) these two have never really had sex with love attached before, so hell, they're both shooting in the dark here

anyway, if it feels "messy" or "awkward" or like festé is being "overly cautious" then good! for these two it was definitely supposed to be all these things!

#.fic #fic: bonding.#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion acunin #astarion x tav #spawn!astarion x named!tav #bg3 astarion #astarion #i'm all pointy ears #oc: festé

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yeenybeanies · 1 year

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Wardens

also been a while since i posted this preview lmao. repost from my patreon!! so i saw this image a long while ago, & it's lived rent free in my brain ever since. & now the inspiration from that image is here in words. mind, the size difference isn't as extreme as depicted there, but the big fella's still 358ft tall 👀💦 OCs | ivy of paesaal & the warden 3,475 words mentions of death & vomiting thanks for reading!! reblogs > likes!! patreon ✨ ko-fi

There were many words for the giant beings. Sentinels. Guardians. Watchers. Keepers. Most called them Wardens. They were gargantuan, towering beings, standing taller than most buildings. They wore armor like that of a knight, made of an unknown metal that could not be dirtied, that no conventional weapon could pierce or scratch. What they looked like underneath that armor, no one knew. A brave few had tried to slip in through the gaps, hungry for knowledge that seemed so within reach, but there were no gaps to be found. Not even the helmets far above, where there were slots, presumably for the beings to see through, granted any entry. Some invisible barrier kept even the light from penetrating into that armor.

Be it legend or history, it was said that the Wardens were gifts from the Gods, sent to protect the land and its people from otherworldly threats. They were mighty, unbreakable warriors, able to repel the worst evils any realm could produce.

Or so it was said.

No one could remember a time when any ungodly monsters ever descended upon the land. No one could remember the Wardens ever waking from their slumber to fight and defend. No one could even remember the last time a Warden moved. Believers claimed that they were simply dormant, and only came to life when truly needed. Nay-sayers thought the whole tale was a crock of shit, that they were nothing more than huge, decorative statues that royals used as symbols of their egos.

It was true that royalty in Palendra regarded the Wardens highly. Monarchs of the past few centuries liked to claim the Wardens’ as their own, though they had no means of actually harnessing their would-be power. Royal crests and seals depicted the Wardens, and the royal guard donned shining armor styled after them.

One such guard in Warden armor sighed loudly. He stood at attention as he was supposed to, but there was a laziness to his posture.

“Princess Ivy,” he said, doing his best to temper the exasperation in his voice, “there are storm clouds gathering from the south. We should head inside before they let out.”

Seated on the wall against a stone pillar, Ivy continued with her charcoal, scraping it across the parchment in her book. She regarded the new strokes for a moment, then smudged at them with her blackened fingers.

“Princess,” the guard said, sounding more annoyed. “Princess.”

Ivy rolled her head back and groaned. “Ugh. Golrin, you’re interrupting my process! If you have to go take a piss so badly, then by all means! You’re dismissed!”

Though his face was hidden under his helmet, she could tell that Golrin was rolling his eyes at her. He’d been her personal guard for nearly ten years now, almost half of her life; she knew how to read him through his armor.

“Oh, pardon my interruption, Your Highness,” he said, speaking much less formally than he would had they not been alone. Ivy liked it better when he talked to her like this. All of those fake, flowery manners that people were supposed to use around her got so exhausting. Golrin continued, “Much as I would love to do just that, I’m afraid your parents would have me drawn and quartered if I dared to let you out of my sight. Dismissed or otherwise.”

Ivy snapped her book shut, the charcoal piece held between the pages, and slid off of the wall. She tucked the book under her arm, and gestured to the towering metal form behind her. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me while he’s around. You can go!”

Golrin snorted. He crossed his arms over his chest and tipped his head up, regarding the Warden. Where they stood, on one of the highest rooftops of the castle, they only just barely reached the middle of its chest plate.

“You don’t actually believe that,” he said. “That Warden’s never moved before. And it certainly isn’t going to move for you if you decide to take a tumble over the wall.”

Ivy looked over her shoulder at the Warden, a gentle smile on her lips. No, she didn’t actually believe that the Wardens were guardians of royalty. But she did take comfort in this one’s vigil. Whether they were actually ancient protectors or not, it made her feel better to at least pretend like someone was watching over them.

She’d spent countless hours up on these rooftops over her lifetime. She liked to talk to the Warden sometimes. She didn’t feel like a princess when talking to it, and it would listen to her without judgment—at least, none that she could perceive. Over the years, it had heard many a rant from the Princess, and confessions she dared not tell another soul—not even Golrin, nor her parents. In a sense, the Warden knew her better than anyone else did.

A small stone bounced against the Warden’s armor with a sharp ping, making Ivy jump. She whirled around to face Golrin again, who remained at attention, though he stood properly now. She glanced down at his feet, noting a gap in the cobble that looked suspiciously like it had just housed a stone a moment before.

“That was rude,” she said. “What did he ever do to you?”

“Not a damn thing,” Golrin replied. “That’s the problem. That thing’s nothing but a shiny waste of space.”

Ivy shot an apologetic look to the Warden, then turned a sour face to Golrin. “We’re lucky to have a Warden here. There aren’t that many of them in Palendra, you know.”

Golrin shrugged. Ivy could picture his face, brows raised and lips pressed together, like he couldn’t care less. He was allowed to feel how he did about the Wardens—after all, no one really knew where they’d come from or what they did—but she didn’t understand how he could look at one and not feel the same awe she did.

“Princess, those clouds are right over us,” he said, changing the subject. “I insist we get inside. It’s looking like it’s going to be a nasty storm.”

The sky was growing noticeably darker, Ivy couldn’t deny. The wind was picking up too. She looked up to the clouds in question. They roiled angrily in the skies, like the heavens themself had a grudge against the land. The first drop broke free, splashing down right in the center of her forehead. She blinked in surprise, lashes catching some of the smaller droplets. Golrin reached for her wrist, armored fingers wrapping fully around it, and gently tugged. She took two steps to follow him, but paused when movement caught her eye. Her head snapped back up to the Warden. A sharp gasp left her, her free hand dropping her book to cover her mouth.

The Warden looked different. Its head was turned, tipped upwards towards the clouds.

“Golrin—the Warden! It moved—!”

An explosion of green light shot down from the clouds, striking the land with a force so violent that it shook the tower Ivy and Golrin stood upon. It tossed them to the floor and knocked the air from their lungs. Ivy could feel herself screaming, but couldn’t hear over the new ringing in her ears. She curled in on herself, knees to her chest, arms over her head, book forgotten. Golrin threw himself over her, shielding her further from—from whatever madness was happening.

When the shaking stopped, Golrin wasted no time. He was on his feet in an instant, dragging Ivy up with him. He half-carried her to the door, into the spiral stairway down the tower. She stumbled down the first few steps, her heart pounding in her chest. A look through one of the windows made it stop altogether, though. Her whole body went rigid and numb, frozen in place.

“Princess! You need to—” Golrin started to shout at her, but he too froze when he saw what she saw.

In the explosion’s crater, opposite of the Warden, stood another titan-sized being. It wore armor not unlike the Warden’s, but it was much more jagged and asymmetrical. The being was hunched over, its arms hanging limply, its head moving left and right in unnatural, jerky movements. A sound—what could only be described as a guttural growl—rumbled from somewhere deep within the being. It rattled Ivy’s bones, made her teeth chatter. Seeing, hearing, witnessing this creature struck a fear deep within her that she’d never experienced before. That thing… was no Warden. It was something else. Something sinister. Dangerous.

Golrin gave her a rough shove, snapping Ivy from her trance. “Keep moving!” he shouted, pushing her along. With her blood flowing again, the princess sprinted down the stairs as quickly as she could, her guard hot on her heels. By the time they were nearly halfway down the tower, she heard—no, felt—movement beyond the stone walls. She caught a glimpse outside, just a moment’s look, to see the new titan tackle the Warden. The crash of their metals, louder than any thunder, brought another ring to her ears. The Warden and the intruder fell to the ground only feet away from their tower, the impact creating another wave of tremors. Golrin pushed her again, hard enough this time to send her tumbling down the stairs until she collided with the curve of the wall. She cried out, but her pained wail quickly turned to one of horror and anguish. Just as she looked back to Golrin, a massive, metal-clad fist tore through the stone like it was paper. The entire upper section of the tower fell away, like a stack of toy blocks being knocked over by a careless toddler. Golrin was there one second, and then he wasn’t. Ivy shrieked his name, her throat already raw.

Another jolt shook the tower—an impact from the wrestling titans at another wing of the castle. More rubble rained down around Ivy, spurring her into a half-stumble half-sprint down the stairs.

Distant screams reached her ears over the cacophonous clashing of metal & brick. The thought of people getting crushed under the titans made Ivy’s stomach roil. It was a miracle in and of itself that she hadn’t yet vomited.

Her shoes hit the ground floor tile, where her legs gave out under her. Ivy collapsed to her hands and knees, head bowed, lungs straining.

Run. Keep running. Her brain shouted, but her limbs wouldn’t move.

Golrin was gone. Where were her parents? The castle staff? The citizens? How many were d—

Her stomach lurched painfully. Ivy’s shoulders shook as she heaved, the contents of her gut spilling out through mouth and nose onto the floor. She was going to die here. The tower was going to fall on her, or she’d get caught underneath a titan, and all she could do is sit here and throw up until it happened.

That wasn’t how she wanted to go. Ivy balled her hands into fists and spat out the last of the bile in her mouth. If she was going to die, it wasn’t going to be in a pool of her own vomit. Despite the wobble in her knees, she pushed herself to her feet, and ran. She shoved the tower door open with her shoulder, and stumbled out onto the road, where she could once again see the Warden and the intruder clashing. The intruder wailed on the Warden viciously with punches, kicks, headbutts—any part of its body it could strike with. The Warden held a defensive stance, arms up, deflecting and dodging when it could. Whenever it did strike out, the intruder slipped out of the way. Clearly it was the faster of the two titans.

Ivy felt like she couldn’t breathe. Seeing the Warden not only move, but fight, filled her with an emotion she couldn’t place. All her life, she’d known the Warden to be silent and still. But now, seeing it fight with another otherworldly being, there was no doubt in her mind that it really was a godly warrior sent from the heavens.

But where had the intruder come from? And why was it here? Why now?

The intruder tossed its head back and let out a piercing shriek. Ivy’s hands flew to her ears, and her knees buckled under her. She may have screamed, but she couldn’t be sure; she couldn’t hear anything over the horrible noise. It felt like every cell in her body, every molecule, was being shaken. Violently. Blood sprang from her nose and her ears, dripping down onto the ground beneath her. She felt like her brain was going to burst inside her skull, and the rest of her organs soon after.

She felt more than she heard the noise stop. For several seconds, Ivy remained curled in on herself, clutching her head between her hands. She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t move.

A crash shook the air from somewhere up above. Ivy forced her eyes open to see the Warden stumble, reeling from the intruder’s assault. It stepped backward, its massive boot sailing over Ivy’s head. She felt herself scream as the Warden started to fall, and thrusted her hands upward, as if she alone could prevent the tower of metal from crushing her flat. Its knee slammed into the ground a few yards from her, and then its fist, both stirring up dust and debris. Once the dust settled, the princess found herself staring up at the Warden, and it staring right back down at her. She couldn’t see any features through the openings in its helmet, but she knew in her heart that it could see her—that it was aware of her. Her blood turned to ice.

For several long moments, neither of them moved.

Then a bright flash of green light grabbed both of their attentions. The intruder produced another horrible shriek—one Ivy could no longer hear through the blood in her ears. The seams in its armor started to glow and flicker with a ghastly, green flame that steadily grew brighter. More intense.

The Warden looked back to Ivy, and she to it. “You’re supposed to protect us!” She yelled. It was surreal to speak and not hear her own voice, but she continued, “Get up! You have to get up!”

It had to get up! It had to get up and fight that—that thing! That monster!

The Warden stole another glance at the intruder, now almost fully engulfed in flames. Its face stayed hidden—if it even had a face—but she thought she could see determination surge in its body language.

Its hand moved. To Ivy’s horror, the Warden’s hand moved towards her. Fingers extended, palm open.

It was going to crush her.

She threw her hands over her head, screaming so loudly, so hard, that she was sure her throat was bleeding by now. The light vanished, blotted out by the Warden’s hand. Ivy squeezed her eyes shut, and waited for the violent end to take her.

Dizziness overcame her. In the last moments, her consciousness faded.

The hand pressed into the ground, then its fingers curled in, leaving deep gouges in the dirt.

The intruder let out one last shriek before it exploded into a shockwave of green. The Warden turned its back to the blast and braced as flames swelled around it, incinerating everything.

Ivy breathed in with a start. She gasped for air, and pawed at her throat as if she were being choked. She couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t—

No, that wasn’t right. She could see herself. She held up a hand and inspected it. It looked as if she were standing in the midday sun, but there was nothing around her but blackness.

She realized too that she wasn’t actually standing, nor was she lying down. It felt almost like she was suspended in water, or floating in the air.

Was this a dream? It had to be a dream. Or perhaps a nightmare. Or… or the afterlife. Ivy grimaced. She was dead. She had to be. The Warden… the Warden killed her!

“That bastard hunk of—ah!” She binked, and gingerly touched the lobe of her ear. She could hear! There was no blood crusted on her skin, either, nor on her clothes. In fact, she was completely clean.

This had to be the afterlife.

But… why was it so dark? And empty?

Would Golrin be here…?

Nervously, Ivy called out. “Hello…?” No response. “Um. Hello…? Golrin? Is anybody here? I can’t see anything. Hello? Hey—!” Her body lurched, like it was being lifted. She flailed her limbs, trying to fight off whatever had ahold of her, but there were no hands, no ropes, no chains—nothing tethered to her. “Hey! What are you—let me go!”

A low, rumbling noise echoed all around her, stilling her movements. It almost sounded like the noise that the intruder had made, but somehow… gentler. Kinder. Ivy studied the darkness, and listened until the echoes faded. She couldn’t see anyone, but she could swear that she felt a presence nearby.

“Where are you? Where am I?”

The rumble sounded again, this time with softer, lighter notes interlaced. Ivy’s brows furrowed. There was something to the sound. It wasn’t a voice, per se, nor were there any words, but there was something in it that she could understand.

“You’re… ‘sorry’?” She said. There was sorrow in the rumble, and emotions in her head that did not belong to her. “Are you… talking to me? Who are you? Why can’t I see you?”

Far up above, Ivy noticed light pouring in through what looked to be several tall openings. Windows, perhaps. As the force carrying her brought her nearer, she shielded her eyes until they adjusted to the brightness beyond. Once she could look, she leaned forward to peer through one of the openings.

And her jaw dropped.

From somewhere high up, she looked down upon the charred remains of a kingdom—her kingdom. The earth was blackened, everything reduced to ash and dust. Much of the fire was gone now, though she could still see a few patches of burning green on piles of rubble. At the center of the explosion, there were charred pieces of shrapnel and debris. Remains of the intruder?

Again the… chamber rumbled.

“I… I’m having trouble understanding. Are you saying that I’m alone? What does that mean? Where am I?”

The view outside swung to the left, then to the right, like whatever this place was was mounted on a swivel.

Rumble.

Ivy shook her head. “What do you mean ‘you’ll protect me’? Please, I don’t understand! Let me out of here!”

Rumble.

“I don’t care that it’s not safe! I don’t feel safe here!” She tried her luck with flailing again, to no avail. “I am Ivy of Paesaal, Princess of Palendra! You will let me out of here immediately!”

Suddenly, Ivy was pulled down. The windows vanished, leaving her blind once more. She shrieked and thrashed, kicked and clawed at nothing. So busy was she in her frenzy that she failed to notice when her feet touched solid ground, and the sensation of being suspended left her. Only when she spotted cracks of light in long, straight lines overhead did she realize that she was somewhere else. And she could see! At least a little bit. The room—if it could be called that; it was far too cramped to be a proper room—around her looked like it was made of metal. The walls were unusual, like segmented pillars that curled over her. The floor was a mesh-like material.

The pillars jolted with a soft groan, startling Ivy. She fell onto her backside as they shifted, and slowly unfurled, revealing the ash-filled sky beyond.

One, two, three, four pillars… and a fifth one off to the side… Ivy glanced down at her hands, then back at the pillars. The four had three segments, and the fifth only two… just like…

Ivy whipped her head around, and felt her heart leap into her throat.

She was in the Warden’s hand, high above the kingdom—or what remained of it. The Warden stared down at her, watching her through the black openings in its helmet.

Openings that looked like the windows she’d been looking through only moments before…

By the Gods… had she been inside the Warden’s head?

The Warden rumbled.

“There’s… no one else…” she echoed. And it was sorry. Through her fear and adrenaline, the princess felt another surge of anguish. Moisture welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over onto her now cleaned cheeks. She crawled nearer to the edge of the Warden’s expansive palm and peered over, her shaking hands pressed to its thumb for balance. Just as she saw before, there was nothing but ash down below. All of the buildings, statues, roads—everything was gone.

“No… No, there… there has to be someone else…”

#g/t #g/t writing #g/t fiction #the warden #ivy of paesaal #hyena writes #hyena ocs

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frodo-with-glasses · 1 year

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There's a moment when Beregond and Pippin are sitting on the wall of Minas Tirith, just chatting and getting Pippin acquainted with the city, when a Nazgul in the distance passes over the sun.

Now, I've said before that Nazgul can deal psychic damage just by existing, and Beregond and Pippin evidently rolled too low on their wisdom saving throws. Pippin pales and cowers against the wall. Beregond freezes, chilled to his bones. For a moment, they're both consumed by terror and despair.

"It is the sign of our fall, and the shadow of doom, a Fell Rider of the air," mutters Pippin.

"Yes, the shadow of doom," says Beregond. "I fear that Minas Tirith shall fall. Night comes. The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away."

For a moment, there is only fear. Fear, and despair. But then the Nazgul departs, and Beregond and Pippin get another go at the dice, and this time they roll high enough to save.

"No, my heart will not despair," says Pippin. "We may stand, if only on one leg, or at least be left still upon our knees."

"Rightly said!" cries Beregond, and then stands up to pace and drop some of the most criminally underrated poetry in this entire book. "Nay, though all things must come utterly to an end in time, Gondor shall not perish yet. Not though the walls be taken by a reckless foe that will build a hill of carrion before them. There are still other fastnesses, and secret ways of escape into the mountains. Hope and memory shall live still in some hidden valley where the grass is green."

This moment lives in my head absolutely rent-free, and it drives me crazy that no one talks about it. It's so powerful, and speaks so clearly to the spirit of this book.

Pippin and Beregond were afraid. They felt fear. But they rejected fear, and they turned around and chose to embrace hope.

I don't think I'll ever get over that.

WORD ASK GAME!

#word ask game #beregond #peregrin took #pippin #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing

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g0nta-g0kuhara · 10 months

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ur friend is the funniest, i had the same reactions but i keep genuinely forgetting gundham dies bc to my mind he is still there, chilling with his hansters in the bg, like he just got run over by some bulls he's fine, where is he exactly fuck god he IS dead

also nay i pls ask ur friend on what like, the general opinion on hajime n komaeda are, either individual or theirr dynamic together

Gundham never died he's living in my head rent free I Would Know.

Here's what she said about Hajime and Komaeda!!

"Hajime is fucking hilarious he’s so done half the time and I’m here for it. Just. "No." [She's talking about when Nagito asked him what happened with Ibuki/Hiyoko and he refused to tell him.] And then learning his actions have consequences has been my favourite moments in the game.

"Komaeda is now a meme, he’s no longer a person he’s a fucking presence. He’s really smart but he’s letting his personal biases get in the way sometimes but he’s doing a good job of leading the trials in the direction he wants it.

"Group dynamic is fun, especially when you force Hinata to hangout with Komaeda and each time he questions his sanity- One of my favourite dynamics in media I think. The “I’m here to have a good time, not a long time” and the eternal “why the fuck are we here, just to suffer” doomer. More on the ranking list later on. This game has unlocked something horrible in me"

#Judging by how she often quotes ''I am in love with the hope that lives inside you'' I think she's also a fan of komahina #as much as a person who isn't into shipping can be #pluto answers

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andywinter16 · 1 year

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Something I’ve wondered in the past, and I think it might be something that would interest you.

Titus doesn’t fight, he’s never shown fighting as Titus, he only ever fights as the General. So, in your opinion, would his fight style be quick and agile like the rest of the Glaive? Would he be able to warp? Or would his fighting style be similar to Glauca? Or would someone who knows Titus’ fighting style recognise similarities between him and Glauca?

Sorry for the long ask ☺️💙

Nay friend, it´s really fine! :) ♡♡♡ I wondered about this too, actually ... Although gotta admit that I am not great at extensive analyses (my brain is too ADHD for that), but that never really stopped me before.

So in my opinion Titus and Glauca have different fighting styles, for obvious reasons. Yet you can pick certain prefferences, at least in weapons. Titus is too clever for something like fighting style to blow his cover. Like in my head I see Glauca as completely different personality which is still part of Titus. (But is like very well hidden)

I need to take into into account his age (roughly around 46?). Like when he was younger, he definitively was even more swift and flexible. But due to his injuries and aching bones (and that´s no joke), he started to fight smarter, not harder. We can see a reflection of his fighting style in his glaives and most definitively in Nyx.

Let´s laid another facts on the table. Titus is extremely skilled with weapons (even fire arms, but he just doesn´t use them that much). Mainly preffers to use long swords and battle axes (Titus swinging battle axe like a madman and destroying his enemies now lives in my head rent free) His fighting style is calculated, offensive. He uses his whole body as a weapon. (kicks, punches, tripping his enemies,..) He ain´t no stranger to dirty tactics, as long as it gets the job done.

When Titus took the mantle of captain (and wasn´t corrupted by starscourge armor, btw fuck you Verstael) he definitively used king´s magic. Titus wasn´t much keen on warping tho (as effective as it was), but like power up punches or projections to confuse your enemies, yeah I can see him do that. Oh, I almost forget Titus is great at hand to hand combat.

(I can tell I am not good with this description, but I have found a video from Adrian Bouchet with his fighting scenes. And that´s actually how I kinda imagined Titus fight)

youtube

Glauca on other hand is raw unhinged power to be reckon with. Only uses double handed greatswords (I can also image him with executioner's sword, but that would be impractical) He bulldozes his way through anything, seemingly untouchable. Even as Glauca he´s exceptionally fast on his feet ( thanks to his armor and pure skills). Like we saw how Glauca fight in the movie, so there is not much to say from me.

youtube

(Have a feast of this magnificent fight, it´s scary how is Glauca so fast and fluid in his movements with greatsword like in 2:08)

#ffxv #ffxv kingsglaive #titus drautos #no idea if the tootpick Titus has is actually longsword?#general glauca #Also Adrian Bouchet was a great choice for Titus #or I can also image Richard Armitage as Drautos #If Titus warped next to me in his 2 meter glory I would run so fucking fast and abandon whatever fuck I was doing #I'm sorry but strangely I would value my life than go fight Titus in this scenario #I feel like I had conducted life long study #“And there we see Titus Drautos in his natural habitat #I highly recommend to watch those videos #my brain is fried from such intense writing #final fantasy xv

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queen-rainy-love · 2 years

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So I still have a couple requests to do (sorry for the wait. Yesterday was hell for me at work and I barely had enough energy to do Odyssey) but I got this idea yesterday. I don't think I would add it to my headcanon AU since there's...no way to fit it cleanly without going dark. But since this idea has been living in my head almost rent free for two days, I need to get it out. You guys can say yay or nay to this idea. I myself am about to say nay to it just cause I can't figure a perfect way to add it in the headcanons I have now without reconning it or changing my original plan for the future fanfiction I want to write.

So here it is: Cream Puff Cookie is the long lost daughter of Pure Vanilla and White Lily/Dark Enchantress, making her the only daughter of the family.

All this because of an Instagram post where OP had Madeleine, Knight, and Cream Puff as siblings (it's cute. So cute!)

Now for this work...things would have to be dark. Not angsty. Dark. So I don't know how to approach this.

And I would have to recon stuff or make a post where the brothers and the parents found out and are just confused on how the hell this happened.

So I don't know what to do with this idea. I might not do anything with this and just throw it away or if you guys want to keep it, I will find a way to add her to the family.

Again, this idea had been living in my head nearly rent free for two days straight and it's been driving me up the wall. I just needed to get it out.

Now if you excuse me, I'll be diving back into the requests/asks.

#cookie run kingdom #crk headcanons #cream puff cookie

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todomitoukei · 3 years

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Japanese vs. English Dabi - A 292 Comparison

As other people have already pointed it, the official translation is sometimes a little biased to the point of adding things into the text that aren’t in the original Japanese version or changing phrases to the point where the villains come off colder than they actually are.

The current chapters are highly important to Dabi’s and Shouto’s characters and so the official translation, unfortunately, can lead to people getting the wrong image of Dabi. This is not to say that Dabi is actually a super friendly guy - however, I don’t think you can get a full picture of all the layers to his character without taking the original text in mind.

Since there are a few panels I’m going to talk about from this chapter - comparing the Japanese version with the official translation and also dissecting and explaining the original Japanese phrases - I’m going to put the rest of this post under the cut because it’s a bit lengthy otherwise.

Let’s start with these panels. Though these aren’t mistranslated per se, just like with the “dance with your son in hell” line from the previous chapter, the furigana next to the kanji have a different meaning here. As discussed before, whenever this is the case, the furigana are what the character says, and the kanji represent what the character actually means.

The line in the second panel is: 「轟家の過去が消えるわけじゃねえだろ。」

轟家「とどろきいえ ; todoroki ie 」-> the Todoroki household

の　「 no 」-> particle to indicate possession, works like an apostrophe

過去「かこ ; kako 」 -> the past; a past (i.e. a personal history one would prefer remained secret); one’s past

が「 ga 」 -> particle to mark the subject of the sentence

消える「きえる ; kieru 」 -> to vanish; to disappear

わけじゃねえ「 wakejanee 」 -> It doesn’t mean that

だろ「 daro 」 -> right ? (used to ask the person you’re talking to for confirmation)

The two words that have a different furigana reading than they should have, are Todoroki household and past. According to the furigana, Dabi says:

「うち」-> house; one’s own home

「じじつ」-> truth; reality

So going by the kanji reading you get:

“This doesn’t mean that the past of the Todoroki household just disappears, right?”

Whereas what he actually says is:

“This doesn’t mean the truth of our home just disappears, right?”

In comparison to the “dance with your son in hell” line, these two versions don’t differ as much from another. Caleb actually addresses this in his twitter threat and sort of mixed the two versions into one: “This doesn’t change the hard truths about my family’s past!”

Personally, considering he is directly talking to Shouto here, I find the choice of translating the Todoroki household/home part into “my family” a bit weird. Since he seeks Shouto’s confirmation here, it would make more sense to translate it as “our family” in my opinion. The “my” makes it feel a lot more self-centered, even though there is no indication for him to only be referring to himself here.

Switching the word to vanish with “change” also slightly changes the meaning here. Though both are accurate, I feel like their past disappearing holds more weight. The line is, after all, referring to the fact that Best Jeanist has appeared, despite Dabi earlier announcing that the hero had been killed. So even though Dabi was wrong about that part, it doesn’t make his other facts go away. It’s not just about changing his words, but making it like they were never spoken in the first place. It’s a small difference, but a difference nonetheless.

Finally, the “hard truths” part instead of reality/past. It’s interesting to think about why Dabi says “truth” when he means “past”. But I think one way to look at it is that to Dabi, he has accepted the past. He has lived with it and carried it with him in silence for so long, but was always aware of it. Despite him not having told anyone else about it, he didn’t deny that past to himself. He shows his scars and he fights back. That is who Dabi is as the person that rose from Touya’s ashes. Meanwhile, he says “truth” while talking to Shouto. While we, the readers, and those around Shouto know of his hatred towards Endeavor, Dabi doesn’t know about this. To him, Shouto really is just Endeavor’s little doll. And so in Dabi’s eyes, Shouto has yet to see the truth. To acknowledge their past and the pain they all went through. And though Dabi might not be completely right about Shouto, he isn’t entirely wrong, either. Because even when Shouto hates Endeavor, even when he says he is just going to use him for his own gain, at the end of the day, regardless of his reasons, his actions are still what Endeavor wants him to do - to train hard and want to become the Number One Hero.

I included one the alternative meanings “a personal past one might prefer remained secret” because it also fits well with that interpretation. That the true meaning behind him saying “truth” is not just the mere past, but the part of the past they don’t want to share. Whether that’s because it’s an ugly one that could haunt them for the rest of their lives, or because it’s just difficult to talk about. Either way, it’s more than just memories from when their family was still young. In that, I think “hard truth” is actually a fitting translation, even when it doesn’t have the exact same nuance as the Japanese version.

While Shouto and Dabi are in many ways similar to another, they have slightly different goals: While Dabi wants to kill Endeavor, Shouto wants to save his mom. To both of them that is liberty, just with a different approach.

And the ending of the sentence, where he seeks confirmation from Shouto, sort of indicates just that. He wants Shouto to admit it. Pushing him into a corner and asking a question that only has one right answer. This is also similar to a few chapters ago when Toga confronted Uraraka with the question “Was Jin not a person?” It’s asking something with an obvious answer, yet the people being asked seem to not yet be able to give the right answer, even when they might already know it.

Next of, Shouto confronts Dabi about the villain he sent to their house, who could have killed Natsuo. As you can see in the panel above, the English translation has Dabi say: “Almost killed? What a shame. That would’ve really hurt Endeavor.”

Meanwhile, the Japanese version says: 「それならそれで。エンデヴァーが苦しむ。」

「それならそれで ; sorenara sorede 」 -> even so (expression frustration); still

「エンデヴァー ; Endebā 」 -> Endeavor

「が ; ga 」 -> particle to mark the subject of the sentence

「苦しむ ; kurushimu 」 -> to suffer

As you can see, “Almost killed? What a shame” is kind of very far off from the actual meaning. While the official translation makes it almost sound like Dabi is disappointed and wants Natsuo to be killed, the fan translation has him say: “Then that would mean Endeavor would suffer.” This is a lot closer to the Japanese version and focuses on the more important part: the goal is for Endeavor to suffer. Dabi’s intention isn’t to get anyone else in the family hurt/killed in the process, however, he does have this tunnel vision where everything is about Endeavor and doing whatever to hurt him.

“What a shame” sounds like he is upset Natsuo didn’t actually die. While, as stated above, the first part can show frustration, that frustration more likely refers to the disappointment that Endeavor doesn’t suffer as much as he could.

While both versions translate the second part as Endeavor “would” suffer/be hurt by this, the Japanese uses the present tense for suffering. In a way, Dabi is saying “Well, though he could’ve been more hurt, he suffers.” Maybe he hasn’t been as damaged as could be, but it doesn’t matter, because the fact remains that he does suffer from this, present tense. So Dabi doesn’t recognize this as a loss or “a shame” that Natsuo didn’t die. Instead, he recognizes that Endeavor suffers, even when he isn’t met with the worst-case scenario.

In response to the last panel, Shouto asks whether Dabi is insane (please don’t ask people that) and Dabi’s response in the original translation is “Sure am, Shouto. See, your brother’s not so big on “feelings” anymore.”

A couple of thoughts on this. First, this is a downgrade in comparison to the fan translation of “You got it, Shouto! Your big brother has completely lost any feeling for anything!”

Something the phrasing coupled with Dabi’s wide eyes and big smile make me laugh and this panel now lives rent free in my head.

Anyway, the Japanese line goes: 「そうだよ焦凍兄ちゃん何も感じなくなっちまった。」

「そうだよ ; soudayo 」 -> that is right

「焦凍 ; Shouto 」 -> Shouto

「兄ちゃん ; Nii-Chan 」 -> big bro (in a very endearing way, but can also be used to be demeaning)

「何も ; nanimo 」 -> nothing

「感じ ; kanji 」 -> feeling

「なく ; naku 」 -> adverbial form of nai; attaches to a verb to mean “without”

「なっちまった ; nacchimatta 」 -> to have become (unintentionally; regretfully)

The fan translation, in my opinion, is far more accurate, but there is still something missing.

First of all, I don’t know why the official translation put feelings in quotes as if Dabi didn’t actually say it? mean it? It just feels like an odd choice that I can’t find a good enough justification for.

Second of all, “not so big on ‘feelings’ anymore” and “has completely lost any feeling for anything” is a big difference, and would make sense if the fan translation was inaccurate. But it isn’t. The official translation makes it sound like Dabi more or less chose not to feel anymore or pay attention to his feelings. He could, but he doesn’t want to. You could argue that both sentences still carry the same meaning: Dabi doesn’t feel anymore. "To be big on something” usually refers to having a strong interest in something and prioritizing said interest, which implies that one chooses to prioritize it. While I’m not arguing that some people do choose to ignore their feelings instead of confronting them, in this case, it’s actually the opposite of what he says.

Looking at the actual Japanese sentence, it begins with Dabi confirming Shouto’s words. Yes, I am crazy. There is no denying, nor shame in this. There is almost a bit of pride in that - so little bro actually recognizes that I have gone crazy from this.

Nii-Chan is an interesting choice of words here. The Japanese language is very much based on hierarchy. There are different levels of formality (shown through words, expressions, and verb forms) depending on whom you are speaking to. To summarize: When you are talking to someone who is of higher status (based on job position, age, experience). This also applies to siblings. Since those of higher status can be more direct/less formal with those of lower status, older siblings can address their younger siblings by their given name alone.

Meanwhile, the younger siblings would use some kind of honorific/suffix. In this case, the “Nii” means older brother. “San” is the standard suffix you would use to address your older siblings (and other people in general). “Chan” is a suffix that you usually use for kids/girls, - where it has a cute, endearing connotation - wherefore it becomes kind of rude when used for older people (as in people who aren’t children anymore). But it can also show endearment - a close bond between the siblings.

So why does Dabi call himself “Nii-Chan”? While you can interpret this as a sarcastic remark to mock their non-existent relationship, I think here Dabi uses it here to humanize himself to Shouto. Kind of like an “I know you see me as a villain right now, but I also am your bro, remember?” He isn’t just this “evil criminal” - rather cute lil Touya is still inside of him. Dabi isn’t just Dabi. He still is Touya, too. So if you fight Dabi and if you call Dabi insane, you also do those things to Touya. Dabi might be the stage of “having completely lost it” but that doesn’t just suddenly happen. It’s a process. While we can say Dabi became Touya on the day Touya “died” yet it’s important to recognize that there was a gradual transition where both Touya and Dabi existed.

Now that we have that part aside, let’s focus on the actual point of that phrase. The part about his feelings.

何も感じなくなっちまった。 Nanimo kanjinaku nacchimatta.

“Nanimo” means nothing and comes with negative verbs that it refers to.

As mentioned before, “kanji” means feeling and is paired with the adverbial form of “nai” - “naku” which negates “kanji” to turn it into not feeling. Pair that with “nanimo” and you get a meaning of “feeling nothing”

Now for the actually interesting part of this phrase (apologies that it took so long) - “nacchimatta”. This word consists of two seperate words: “naru” and “chimatta”. “Naru” means to become and is here merged with “chimatta” which is the colloquial past tense version of “teshimau”. The verb “shimau” expresses that an action (the verb it attaches to) has happened either unintentionally or has yielded regrettable results. So in this case, it is unintentional/regrettable that he has become something.

Putting this together, Dabi says that he has turned into someone who doesn’t feel anything anymore and this was not his intention, nor is it a good thing. To be fair, “shimau” can also mean something happens completely, however this meaning is rarer and while we can say that this is the meaning here, it’s more likely and more interesting to consider the more common meaning.

With that in mind, I want to quickly address the panel next to it, where Shouto asks him whether he has gone insane

In Japanese Shouto says:「イカれてんのかてめェ！」

「イカれて ; ikarete 」 -> (*ika is written in katakana here to emphasize the word since you can’t use italics in Japanese) to be beaten; to be crazy

「ん ; n 」 -> ender is used when explaining something; often with emotion*

「の ; no 」 -> explanatory particle; used at the end of a sentence like a question marker, but you want the listener to answer and give you the reasons why

「か ; ka 」 -> ender indicating doubt or uncertainty

「てめェ！; temee! 」 -> you (derogatory) *meme not intended

The reason why these nuances are important to take into account is that when Dabi, in his reply confirms that “Yes, you’re right, unfortunately, I have become unable to feel anything” he is not just confirming the statement, but emphasizing just how tragic this all is.

*[edit because someone pointed this out to me: the ん here is actually more likely to be the casual form of いる (iru) that attaches to the て (te) form of a verb to turn it into the current/ongoing state (= In this case "are you being crazy).]

The official translation simply made Shouto say: “Are you freaking insane?!” which isn’t exactly wrong but misses the nuance of the “nnoka” in the middle of the sentence. While the official translation sounds rather cold and dismissive, the original shows that Shouto cares. There is emotion, and more importantly: there is a desire to hear his reasons. “Why do you think it was okay to put Natsuo in danger?” By the way, the “n” ender that shows emotion when explaining something is also used by Shouto earlier when he says “Remember him? The brother you cried to every day?!” - It’s no surprise that he is emotional right now, still, it’s important to note that he isn’t just showing his emotions through his tone or his expression, but also through his words in order to make it as clear as possible to Dabi how much Dabi’s actions affect the rest of them and hopefully be able to get through to it.

It’s an emotional and tragic conversation that takes place between them, yet the official translation turned it into a much colder, less-caring one.

I know this was a lengthy post with a lot of information, so congrats and thank you if you’ve made it this far. The reason why I decided to make this post was that initially, the “Nii-Chan can’t feel anything anymore” part stuck with me so much and even more so when I dissected it.

Again, other people have pointed out that the official translation is very biased at times, which is not just sad for those of us who care about the villains, but it’s also just not professional. A lot of the panels I talked about in this post aren’t inherently incorrect, they are simply missing nuances that the English language doesn’t provide. Still, I wished that a professional translator would figure out a way to at least slightly incorporate these anyhow (which btw is literally part of the job). Aside from those, it’s just frustrating when the emotions get almost entirely removed from phrases. I get it - Dabi is apathetic, as he says himself. And yet, Dabi is also constantly shown to put extreme care into which words he chooses; this chapter being no exception. So why does such an important conversation between two brothers get changed in ways that make people who don’t bother checking other translations/the Japanese version unable to get the right image of them?

I understand that it’s important to support the official translation and I do. But it’s also very much important to read other versions, too. While the fan translation might have errors and mistranslations in it here and there, it tends to be a bit more literal and thus includes the nuances more than the official translation does. So please don’t just read the official translation and treat it like the only valid one, when it also comes with its flaws and just isn’t a good sole source for when you want to understand the characters.

#dabi #meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #shouto #todoroki #292 #my hero academia #mha #mine #bnha 292 #lov #also this took a while pls show this some love sgnskgns #translation

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fizzydrink698 · 3 years

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When a notoriously intimidating mafia bodyguard comes into your home, dressed like he plays acoustic guitar and spent the day holed up in Starbucks writing his screenplay, you can’t help but be intrigued

PLEASE the way you worded this is gold

“I could say the same about you.”

Sir, sir, calm the heck down please.

“Well, I…uh, I don’t like wearing too many layers in the house.”

“Good.”

Be right back, let me just go grab some holy water.

That was…that was flirting. Right?

Nay, that was my dog barking. Girl are you serious?

In fact, part of you is very eager to interact with Changbin a little…more.

where is that holy water when you need it..?

“Maybe you should check.”

It's getting really hot in here bruh

“Standard wires usually hide their transmitter somewhere along the wearer’s waistband,”

STANDARD is the key word here I have a feeling

“But not always.”

I KNEW IT

“Oh, my mistake. Just had to check-”

I AM DYIN; the sass, the audacity gah

“You’re so fucking responsive.”

You have no words in response

THE IRONY

“That’s the plan,” he says, deadpan.

head empty, this scene is now living rent free in my brain

“There’s someone downstairs,”

there are 2 options only: either someone from clan decided to have great timing or our boi will end up dead

You imagine it might be the first time he’s had to do it in his underwear

with all due respect m'lady but i doubt

Sweet boi Jeongin really decided to have great timing, gah...

quoting my words back to me fills me with the purest, indescribable joy 🥺🥺 i will attempt to reply back on each one!

reader absolutely dated several Starbucks Hipster Boys in college, all of whom were so very convinced they were woke, and yet so ready to mansplain the concept of “mansplaining”. that kind of guy 😂 she has sat through so many slightly off-time ‘Wonderwall’ renditions.

changbin was transfixed the second he walked through the door, it’s just years of training that stopped him from awkwardly gawking at legs

changbin is all about playing the flirting game, while leaving himself just enough plausible deniability to save his own pride. it’s a gift.

similarly, reader doesn’t want to make assumptions and look silly if those assumptions are wrong. they’re just tiptoeing around each other at this point and it’s adorable.

very thirsty reader in this fic. possibly one of my thirstiest.

phew, it is kinda warm, isn’t it?

hey, reader got some action and some education on wireless transmitters. changbin is nothing if not a multi-tasker.

😈😈 heh

changbin’s just gotta be thorough, you know 🤷‍♀️

reader lost the ability to words approximately two lines earlier, now she’s just jelly. thirsty, thirsty jelly.

yeah, to be fair, this line cracked me up.

imagine if i killed bin in this 😂 i think you guys would murder me. nah, i don’t have the courage to kill off a love interest (yet)

it’s certainly a mental image though, isn’t it? 😇😇

and yes, jeongin wins the award for Best Timing in this fic. he’s got a supernatural sense for embarrassing his bodyguards, it’s truly a gift.

#lynx-paw #respite feedback

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reversecreek · 3 years

Text

hi it’s me... clicks across the linoleum of the dash wearing high heels w a spray tan like i’m a member of jersey shore suddenly..... best summary of willa is that she got moira rose as her #1 chara on a What Character Are You Most Like personality test out of thousands of options.... says so much. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here 😋 like this or hmu fr plots!!

* ashley moore, cis female + she/her | you know willa deneurve, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, most of her life, on and off? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to watch me by the pom poms like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole sticking gold stars over old polaroids until you can barely see faces, dressing as marie antoinette at your high school prom & delivering fake laughter to a bratz doll you’re pretending is a talkshow host thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is august 1st, so they’re a leo, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )

HISTORY:

willa ws born to honestly like….. the perfect family not to honk my own tit bt……………. they were jst rly quite wholesome. her mum celeste was this larger than life person who could never b contained by the four walls of any room she was in. she hd the presence of a gold glitter chess piece on an otherwise mundane wooden board. her dad marlon used to always joke that he had absolutely NO idea how he landed her bc he was just this like. rly average guy by all accounts n purposes….. blended into the sea in high skl……. had a few close friends but was never rly Notable or made a proper impression anywhere…… he always retold it as him coasting thru life until he met her in college. kind of like he’d been half awake before. they just Clicked n no-one cld believe she’d chosen him bt she was jst. completely head over heels n didn’t care what anyone had to say bc that was That

willa always very much took after celeste…… there’s this one quote i remember reading that goes vaguely like “my mom and i would sit and listen to leonard cohen and joni mitchell lyrics together. from a young age i remember her being like "i’m playing this song and when it’s done i want u to tell me what’s happening in it” n she would give me a fake glass of wine when i was 8 and i would listen and b like. i think there was an affair.” which so much summarises their dynamic…… she ws just so like. dramatic n fun n always encouraged that in willa too. her mum was like. everything she aspired to be…… got scouted by a modelling agency in college n shot one campaign before blowing it off simply bc she was bored. starred lead in a play. spent a few weeks travelling asia selling handmade candles shaped like koi fish or curled up foxes or elegantly stretched hands. dated a parisian movie star during a break she and her father took n was featured in tabloids on his arm at the premiere. sm fun n exotic stories willa literally cldn’t get enough. whenever she’d tell them to willa as a kid her dad wld roll his eyes like ohhhhh here she goes again but it’d all b playful n he’d smile bc he honestly cldn’t get enough either. the stuff dreams are made of luv (lizzie mcguire stans rise)

(car accident & death tw) so u know when ur walking down a flight of stairs n then out of nowhere u miss a step n u get that lurch in ur stomach like ur in free fall? yeah. i won’t go into it too much but one night they were driving back from getting frozen yogurt and then suddenly they weren’t. she doesn’t rly remember much about it except for completely ignoring the doctors trying to give her the news and just saying “dad chose pecan. who chooses pecan?” n repeating that over n over n over until it didn’t rly register in her ears as english any more.

willa was uprooted from irving at 11 to go n live w her aunt in NY. this was like. a huge adjustment honestly….. her aunt blanche hd always been a little unconventional bt extremely glamorous. she lived in an old defunct theatre she’d bought out n came from a lot of money. willa’s mum’s side of the family hd always been well off bt celeste opted to live a little more Ordinarily shall we say after settling whereas blanche ws jst balls to the walls dripping w eccentric excess…. wld say she was never naked bc she ws always wearing black opium by yves saint laurent…… probably the living embodiment of la vie boheme….. she’d been admitted a yr early to a rly prestigious parisian design school n is an AMAZING seamstress. a corset she stitched a broadway star into got commissioned fr an actress’ red carpet walk at an indie film festival. rly just lived such a life rich w lots of stories n lots of talent too…… had that star quality essence tht her mum had n that was smthn willa found quite comforting everything considered.

(grief tw) u would think maybe a situation like this (one involving so much sudden change) wld cause a kid of tht age to withdraw into her shell bt willa only came out of her shell MORE. she coped w her situation by spinning it into a celebrity origin story inside her head. the tear jerker tale someone tells during their x factor audition to get the judges rooting for them. mentally streamlining things. repackaging all that hurt as a surefire ticket to success bc it had to be useful for something right? there had to b a point to it right? willa decided the point was she’s a star. KFHSGKFHGFKHGKJSFHG. get it girl….. she ws literally just like ok well clearly i’m destined to be famous n i’m the main character of this story. this story called earth. it’s all about me.

rly heavily immersed herself in her high skl theatre scene……. loved experimenting w fashion n literally wore the most outlandish things like. she treated the hallways like her milan f/w debut every new school yr…… a lot of the things she wore were actual like. costumes frm her aunt’s collection…… she has a multi-story closet u have to climb ladders to reach things in like a very rustic library…. it rly wasn’t uncommon for willa to turn up one day corsetted like a pirate with billowing sleeves or sporting the baby blue gingham of a swedish milk maid. it’s like she literally jst…… became a role. always. every day. the world ws her stage. the cameras were always rolling. her aunt only encouraged this tbh n honestly? icon. we love to see it. willa partied a bunch n rly lived a lax lifestyle where responsibility was concerned…. her aunt ws her best friend…… made rly gd friends with performers in the drag club scene n loved the glitz of that….. lots of wild nights turned grossly bright mornings

snagged an agent fresh into her first yr of college (she gt accepted to a pretty competitive theatre program at [redacted] in NY bc i haven’t looked into what that wld be yet <3 i’m merely a helpless british lass <3) n booked a few commercials n things….. when i say willa wld enter audition rooms like she owned the place i’m rly not exaggerating…. once she turned up to a casting call for MEN n just walked right to the front of the line scraping a random chair along the way n then took a seat w her legs crossed popping a bubble in her gum as they all glared at her like wtf is literally going on who are u. she received several complaints n she was just like “ur all acting so jealous of me….”

i feel like she got a pretty big role in a theatre production in her last yr at school. haven’t decided what yet. maybe smthn rocky horror or even mimi in rent. this was meant to b some like huge moment for willa like yes girl finally making it ur on ur way this is what u wanted n she WAS happy abt it but once it was wrapped she jst had this strange like Huh feeling in her chest……. n a la celeste w all her exciting stories was just like well i’ve done that so what’s next? i think she’d graduate n then jst suddenly decide to move to irving in a fit of impulse. to all her college friends she’d be like “ugh a beach retreat is so necessary honestly the city is sooooooooo toxic this place cld literally enlarge my pores if i wasn’t so rigorous with my skincare routine” bt like 🤔 what u seeking girl? results pending.

SO basically i feel like she finally moved back to irving little over a yr ago. she hd a brief stint starring on a reality tv show tht filmed in one of the larger beach houses where her dog gained a handful of fan accounts dedicated to him……. u maybe will see why in the first bullet point of her personality section………… FKGHKSHFGGKFSHKHG. honestly she ws received pretty well too (mostly bc she’s so fking dramatic n like a caricature of a person) bt it wasn’t anything to warrant actual Fame (despite what willa herself might think). she’s mostly jst like. chilling honestly. accepting scripts n flying out fr auditions still. she’ll nab the occasional part bt she’s looking for that One Thing that rly feels like her big moment….. otherwise i cn just imagine her treating irving like a little dollhouse compared to the roaring mansion of NYC n having fun playing around in it. strikes a pose w a hand on my hip…. and now to personality.

PERSONALITY:

got a very large n lithe greyhound n named him marlene dietrich bc she was a black n white hollywood starlet famously known for her affairs n “bedroom eyes”. willa was like ugh. icon status instantly. didn’t rly foresee the responsibilities tht came w owning a dog tht loves exercise n complains abt him being like “ugh he wants to run soooooooooo much 🙄 like where are u literally going”. having said tht loves him dearly n he can often be seen wearing little clothes. a baby’s bonnet. a quilted leather waistcoat. a custom dog boa. he’s very glamorous. willa calls him a gay icon despite no evidence to support this theory. she also says he can sniff out evil in ppl so she brings him sometimes when she’s first introduced to a friend’s new bf n if his nose quivers a certain way she’s like “marlene has spoken. it’s done”. her friends r like omg? what’s done? willa gets up n walks away without elaborating. marlene’s little paws clicking along the floor w attitude.

literally dressed as marie antoinette for her high skl prom even tho there was no theme pertaining to this. jst loves the spotlight. can fake cry and WILL to get out of a parking ticket or teach someone to watch their tone or even simply for the theatrics of it all. the Most dramatic………….. rly fits being an actress like when people find out what she does it’s very like oh that makes sense.

says she doesn’t get hangovers. she’s just like “i revoked that it doesn’t happen to me”. alludes tht this is bc she’s an all powerful deity that was Chosen to be Blessed bt really she’s jst great at bouncing back n acting fine even w a blistering headache. it’s about believing the performance so much that u even convince urself.

has an extremely elevated sense of self importance bc this is kind of the equivalent of several layers of bubble wrap to cushion her frm the world. strives to b extraordinary bc ordinary honestly feels like a death sentence n there’s nothing she’d want to b seen as less. despite this weight she puts on that she rly doesn’t tend to let ppl’s opinions affect fr the most part like she’s quite firmly set in this I’m Literally The Most Gorgeous And Beautiful Angel Star Creature To Walk This Narsty Little Earth view

probably an incredibly big fan of dramatic short lived love affairs. she wants the glamour of it all. the scandal. the randomly breaking up w someone in a public place n sliding on sunglasses after delivering the words over a freshly ordered coffee (tht she’ll leave without drinking bc that’s star power babey she waits fr no man or no hot beverage)…….. has no preference gets w any n all regardless of gender……… romanticises things so they hv a better spin or story in her head n doesn’t rly take things seriously like jst has fun in her fantasy world…. she’s like ugh chuck i know u wanted to marry me but i’m a beautiful bird in a cage n u literally need to undo the latch n set me free……. the guy’s like……. my name’s chase n we’ve only been on two dates….. willa’s like…… please don’t take this so hard i can tell ur besides urself but people r starting to stare……. gets up n leaves. no-one was staring. chase is confused n honestly probably semi concerned fr her welfare.

always has to b the hottest n most glamorous person in a grocery store…. probably goes to them when she doesn’t even need anything jst holding a basket nonchalantly over her forearm glancing over at a cashier in her wizard of oz corset seamed interpretation on a dorothy dress thinking he wants me soooo bad it’s not even funny….. seduces him over the check out counter jst for him to ask her to come back to his so she can lean back scandalised n cry “IS THAT THE KIND OF WOMAN U THINK I AM, PAUL?! YOU’RE A GHASTLY LITTLE MAN, YOU ARE….” with all the gusto of a telenovela. attracts the shocked glances of all surrounding elderly.

speaks fluent french. probably on her brief stint on tht reality show i mentioned earlier was like “ugh can you believe Deneurve of this guy?” n in her head was like this catchphrase is sensational it’ll catch on fast the twittersphere is abt to implode but it didn’t become a thing except for in a small isolated community. despite this she’s like “yeah it went viral….. go figure. just another day in the life.”

honestly like a lot of fun bt also a huge handful at the same time. keeps her real Serious emotions in a locked box bt is always overflowing w melodramatics n rly giving her all at the drop of a hat where Performing is concerned. probably Loves parties n sees them as another form of production in which she wants to b the lead. rly just. loves herself. except does she? 🤔 lifts my hand up like rihanna n winks. find out next time. lucky by britney plays as i slowly disintegrate in spiderman rp…..

WANTED CONNECTIONS

unrequited flame: willa burns thru people like matches. bright n fast. honestly i feel like she struggles to take romance seriously so it cld be fun to play around with someone who’s been singed by that in the past…. mayb they hd actual feelings whereas willa was just messing around n having fun…. living la vida loca so to speak…….. we can discuss a time frame or specifics to expand upon this but. sexy angst perhaps.

those she knew from childhood: willa moved to NY at 11 n i feel like it was very sudden n soon after the accident. maybe she didn’t even say goodbye. maybe they were rly close n all of a sudden she didn’t show up to school the next day n when they rode past her house on their bike the sign said sold and that was that. honestly very dramatic of her even at a young age. we love a disappearing act. houdini who?

acting rival: honestly jst feel like this cld be funny. willa’s so dramatic she’d be like i literally want them dead they’re a despicable little gremlin fr trying to steal my spotlight. cld be as simple as having auditioned a few times fr the same parts or something.

childhood sweetheart: i think it cld be rly cute n sad if there was someone that kind of echoed the dynamic her mum n dad had except she was the celeste n they were the marlon…. (open to any gender)…….. so like. willa was always very larger than life commanding attention in a room n they were more to the sidelines but they just kind of got each other n brought out the best in one another. added angst to the fact tht willa wld maybe want to avoid them as much as possible now bc it dredges up feelings she doesn’t want to confront where her parents r concerned n also in a way any possibility of them winding up together feels like sellotaping an expiration date to both of their foreheads in willa’s brain

someone who was either a fan of or also on the reality show willa was: i imagine it like a reinvention of the hills honestly except based in these irving beach houses…. probably didn’t run that long bt there was a bunch of drama on it mostly staged…… maybe they were willa’s love interest bt it was all fake fr the cameras…… it wasn’t like. a huge deal n didn’t rly catch flight so much where popularity’s concerned bt. cld be fun to play with <3

patti frands: jogs in high knees to translate that into party friends as i adjust my spectacles. willa’s very sociable bt she’s also like kind of full of herself n obnoxious so do with that what u will. KFHGKSHGKGHFSKG. she knows hw to have a gd time tho like growing up she was rly into the gay club scene n the drag scene in NY so like. let’s hear it fr the gays who know how to do it right <3

someone equally over the top: i luv the idea of willa having someone who just like runs with made up scenarios n roles she makes up on the spot n them hanging out is like a 24/7 improv session tht they reel random surrounding strangers just fr the fun thrill

the other woman: willa is quite detached n selfish so she wld easily be the other woman in a relationship n not care about it n this cld make for good spice <3

#irvingintro #death tw #car accident tw #grief tw #i think tht's all of them #smiles at u all w hand on hip #this intro's so beefy bt wht else is new truly just can't control myself apparently... shocked. aghast. shaken.

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