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aikunik · 1 day

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Yandere Male idol x GN reader

another view of the writing

warning: yandere tendencies, delusional yandere, nsfw

Sol always had eyes for you, you were his first supporter, even amongst the largest crowds of more than one thousand people he could still sense if you were in the crowd or not, he would panic, and start hyperventilating if he couldn't see you amongst the crowds, once it got so bad that he had to go backstage to avoid the paparazzis surrounding him.

He didn't know how overly obsessive he was with you. he knew but wanted to play hard to get, that was until you looked at someone else or started going to other band's concerts.

It started a while ago, in highschool where you were Sol's classmate, the pretty classmate who sat at the back of the class, always staring out the window. Back then in highschool, he had already developed strong feelings for you. You were the colour to his world, one day, you acknowledged him for his singing and dancing skills. He was ecstatic from your reaction. So much so that he applied for one of the biggest idol companies in the world. Then he trained, for a year or two and rose to stardom, you were his biggest supporter from the start.

You didn't know he was your classmate, since he changed so much, his personality changed and so has his physical appearance, he died his hair a platnium blonde and worked out during his whole trainee period, so there was no way you could recognise him. He wanted to change since you had always regarded him as a mere classmate.

You called yourself Sol's no.1 defender, you would always defend Sol in arguments, like when they called Sol a coward for hyperventilating on stage, being his long-time supporter, you couldn't stand the hate and decided to shut them down yourself. Sol would always see you on social media, commenting and praising him for his dancing skills and amazing charisma on stage. whenever he saw your posts about him or your face he always busted a huge load to it, covering his entire phone screen hot strips of cum, he would always go to the bathroom and jerk off to you when hes stressed.

"m-my darling must love me s-so much! ha... oh!"

Everytime there was a meet and greet he would always look for you, but there was this time when there was no you, he searched through the crowds panicking..

"m-my.. darling.. is not here today?.. ha.. maybe they were too busy with school work! yeah! shes playing so hard to get for my attention"

Sol was just being delusional. You had no feelings for him at all and only regarded him as your role model.

Sol wanted to think this was just a slip up, but his eyes were on the edge of giving out for the whole meet up, he had almost started crying right there on the spot, but his manager told him to go to the bathroom for a while, to freshen himself.

He used that order as an excuse. He wanted to find you. Where have you been? You've been wanting for him to find you right? just like hide and seek. Until he couldn't find you. He started immediately breaking down onto the streets after he checked your instagram and your latest post was at another band's concert. He started suffocating, he started feeling uneasy in his stomach he couldnt bear it he sobbed right in the middle of the busy streets, many fans walking by tried to help him, but he was too lovesick, sitting on the bare concrete floor.

reminder to hydrate

#yandere x reader #possessive love #yandere community #yandere imagines #irl darling #yanblr #irl yandere #yandere male #yandere blog #yandere

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green-eyedfirework · 1 day

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It was a slow day, and Dick was finally getting around to reorganizing his herbs after Tim and Cass had gone through them. He loved his little siblings, he really did, but Tim’s organizational system could only be comprehended by him, and Cass had a bad habit of not cleaning up after herself. His last client had hobbled home to finish resting her once-broken ankle, the house call to the new mother and baby was over in early morning, and he had all the time to rearrange his cupboard.

The door creaked, and a shift of fresh air tugged at his hair, accompanied by heavy, bold footsteps.

Well. Dick stared at the array of herbs spread around him and sighed. Maybe he should invite Jason over, his little brother wouldn’t be able to help himself from organizing Dick’s stuff. “I’m coming,” Dick called out, levering himself off the floor and clearing a path to the front with a snap of his fingers.

Three sets of footsteps and no greeting, so Dick wasn’t expecting anyone from the village. He lived a little further into the woods—closer to the plants he needed and the wild call of nature he used to replenish his magic—but most of his clients came from the village. They were familiar and friendly.

He sensed the spark of wild magic a second before he saw the scowls on their faces. Werewolves.

“Hello,” he said pleasantly. “What can I do for you today?”

The one in the lead, silver hair bound tightly in a braid, bared her teeth at him. It would’ve been a lot more intimidating if she wasn’t a teenager. “You can come with us, mage,” she sneered, “We require your services.”

There was a chill down his spine, easily brushed off. Everyone and their pet wanted a collared mage—the trouble was putting the collar on them in the first place. Someone like Dick, who’d honed their magic for years? It would be easier to put a leash on a werewolf.

Healing and killing were two sides of the same coin, after all.

“Are you injured? Is someone in your pack injured?” Dick asked, still pleasant as he sent out a testing probe. Three werewolves here, three more skulking at his back window, two outside the front door. No more in the immediate vicinity, but their pack had be close by for a show of force this large.

The posturing werewolf snapped her teeth. “We have enough wolves to take you down,” she threatened, “Either you come with us quietly, or we’ll drag you behind us.”

Dick let his smile drop. “Well,” he said in the tone of voice he used whenever he found Tim and Damian fighting, “That’s rude.”

On his little brothers, it could barely quiet a vehement argument. On the wolves, it sent them skittering a step back, hackles raised.

“You’re coming with us,” the wolf said, but her voice wavered, her gaze locked on his hands as he rested them on the table.

The door behind them swung open. In the distance, they could hear growls and curses. “You should probably not threaten a mage in their own home,” Dick chided lightly, and flicked his fingers.

The wolf’s eyes widened to pale blue saucers, but she couldn’t get out more than a half-strangled, “Wait—” before they were spun out and the door slammed shut behind them.

Dick exhaled slowly, and let the sparks of magic recede back under his skin. Then he stepped back, over the piles of unsorted jars, and picked up his satchel.

~#~

The curse is a nasty, sunken, barbed thing. Half of it is hidden, which means that Dick spends more of his magic than is wise before he realizes the scope of the thing, realizes he can’t just yank the thing out.

Under his hands, the wolf is screaming. He does his best to tune it out.

The surge of magic battling magic is enough to keep any interference away, so Dick settles into the slower, longer, more meticulous path of prying the curse out, tendril by tendril. It fights his attempts to destroy it as he goes, so he has to expend even more magic on containing it until he can get the whole thing out.

It’s tedious, draining work. It’s gone firmly dark by the time he finishes sliding the last piece out, and the twist it takes to compress the curse into a tiny speck and shred it to whispers nearly makes him stagger. His magic reserves have gone distressingly low.

Dick abruptly remembers where he is. The camp around him is full of wolf growling, loud and agitated. His patient is passed out, skin gray and clammy and looking ten times worse than when Dick started. The cuts—the cuts are bleeding freely, red and thick.

He needs to leave. He has just enough magic to put on a show of force if needed, and he needs every last sliver to bluff his way out. He cannot be caught here. Not by a pack that’s already expressed interest in putting a collar around his neck.

The boy is bleeding. He will die, werewolf healing or not. Dick can sense the corruption the curse wrecked, magic gone but its effects lingering. If he heals this, it’ll take every scrap of magic he has left.

It’s a choice that’s not a choice. Dick’s a healer. He can’t go against his nature.

Dick breathes in and breathes out, and lets his magic pour out.

Heart and lungs and kidney and liver, a thousand tears in muscle where the wolf tried to fight the curse, blood loss and weakened bone and a hundred small damages. The cuts, large and bloody, slowly knitted together under his trembling fingers. Too slowly.

His vision is going black. Dick fights it, fights it with every breath. As long as he can remain upright when it’s done, as long as he can walk out—he’s proved his fighting capabilities, as long as he gives them no reason to doubt him—

Dick’s head swims. When he forces himself back to consciousness, he’s half-collapsed against the bed. He uses the movement to examine the wounds, as though that was his intention all along, his heart pounding loud and sluggish. They’re almost closed.

Something pops in his ears and the growling disappears to a low buzzing.

He does one last check for any lingering damage as pink, waxy skin unfurls across the wounds. There are some minor injuries left, but the werewolf can heal those on his own as soon as he’s gotten some food.

It’s time for him to go.

Dick curls shaking hands on the edge of the bed and allows himself one breath before he lets go. Everything is curiously muffled, muffled and ringing, and when he drags his head up, he can see the alpha on the other side of the bed.

Mouth moving. He’s saying something. Dick can’t hear him.

He takes a step back, away from the bed, away from the alpha—he needs to get out, needs to watch for a path, needs to avoid being cornered because all he has is dregs and it’s not enough to scare off a bear.

His head aches, like someone took a hammer to it.

Dick needs to leave. Now. Only he’s not sure he can turn without everything spinning. The ground feels like it’s roiling under his feet.

He blinks, and the alpha is suddenly much closer. Dick stumbles back another step in surprise. His stomach turns over, but there’s nothing in it. He worked too long and without food.

Dick has to get out. He has to—everything inside him is screaming danger—he can’t stay, they want to keep him, he needs to leave—

Something wet touches his lips. Dick raises a hand, feeling like he’s moving underwater, and wipes it across his mouth.

It comes away red.

It’s the last thing he remembers seeing.

~#~

No one can get to Grant, no one can even touch him with all the magic swirling around the mage, and Slade is forced to stand there, a few steps away, and watch his firstborn scream under the onslaught.

Nothing works to stop it. Not words, not weapons, not every magic-dampening sigil they’ve ever collected. Slade can do nothing but wait.

Grant stops screaming. His wounds run red and red and red. Slade’s claws are fully extended—he will tear the mage from limb to limb if it’s the last thing he does. He just needs an opening.

Slade doesn’t know how long before the magic falters. It’s just a second, but the second is enough to register how much worse Grant looks, like the mage is draining his life away. By the gods and the moon, they should’ve left it alone. At least Slade would’ve been able to hold his son while he died. At least he wouldn’t be in so much pain.

The magic swirls back before anyone can attack, and the pack paces restlessly along the perimeter. Everyone’s expressions are twisted in grief and fury.

The mage will not leave here alive. That much Slade swears.

The magic is…quieting almost. Like it’s slowly winding down. Still impenetrable—Rose tries and fails to get past it, but the shimmer is receding. Slade stares at Grant, half-dreading that his son is already dead.

But Grant’s chest still rises and falls. The amount of blood loss is…shrinking. The wounds seem to be closing over. In fact, when Slade darts a glance at his son’s face, Grant appears to be getting better.

His skin is no longer ashen, his breaths are fuller, and as the magic recedes, Slade steps forward, stuck in an incredulous daze. Grant looks better. Grant looks like he’s healing.

Slade pays no attention to the mage’s movements, his gaze fixed on the miracle in front of him.

The magic dies down to nothing but flickers, and Slade can finally touch his son again. Grant is warm and alive and healthy under his fingers, and Slade lets out a shuddering gasp.

“Thank you,” he says hoarsely, lifting his gaze to the mage. He doesn’t know what the man did, but Grant is alive, Grant is healed, Grant is safe. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you—”

The mage looks terrible. His skin is waxy and gray, his eyes sunken, his frame curled in on himself. He’s trembling, and his breaths keep breaking. As Slade watches, the mage takes a step back and nearly trips on flat ground.

“Hello?” Slade calls out slowly, tension creeping back in. “Hello, can you hear me?”

The mage looks at him blankly.

Slade rounds the bed, casting one last glance at Grant—alive, healthy, alive—before inching closer to the mage, who looks as worse as Grant had at the start. Slade doesn’t know a whole lot about mages and magic, but he doesn’t think this is a good thing.

“Can you hear me?” Slade repeats, before he notices the red creeping down from the mage’s ears. The mage’s expression has gone unfocused. There’s red creeping out of his nose too, blood smearing across his lips, and the mage raises a hand to wipe it off.

He blinks down at the blood on his hand. And then he crumples.

Slade is close enough to lunge and catch him before he cracks his head open on the ground, and the mage is alarmingly light. “What’s the matter with him?” Slade growls as the pack presses in, all concerned murmurs.

Villain manages to fight his way to the front. “Magic overuse,” he diagnoses after taking in the mage’s—too weak—pulse and examining his face. “He’s drained himself nearly dry.”

Slade looks back at Grant, sleeping peacefully on the cot, and down at the mage, who appears to be two and a half steps from death’s door.

“Will he recover?” he can hear himself ask. Slade was willing to do near anything for his son’s health, but to use a life to restore life? That kind of sacrifice, from someone not pack—

“He should. Time, and rest, and enough food. Come, he’s too cold, he needs to be kept warm.”

#my snippets #mage/wolf au #magical exhaustion #yet another one

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unfortunately-a-miraculous-fan · 22 hours

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I think the worst part about Miraculous' decline in quality is that I can't even enjoy it.

I want to love the bad writing so badly, but I can't do that when the bad writing in question is:

Marinette literally stalks Adrien and this is seen as a strange, albeit romantic quirk of hers.

The show's lore takes much "inspiration" from Chinese mythology and philosophy, but nobody on the writing team seems to have any knowledge or respect for Chinese people.

A cop is blatantly racist toward Marinette's mother and Marinette ends up apologizing to HIM. Thomas 100% backs this creative decision. (Not even acknowledging the fact that one of his main arguments against Chloe stans that he loves to use is that she made an ignorant remark about Chinese food.(Also that same episode, they based Marinette's uncle's akuma design off Dragon Ball Z despite him being Chinese rather than Japanese.))

[EXTREMELY MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 5 IMMEDIATELY UNDER THE CUT.]

After Gabriel's death, Marinette never tells Adrien that his father was Hawkmoth, and instead leaves him to believe that he was a good father. Adrien literally never gets justice or closure for all the abuse and neglect.

And more!!! :)

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous #ml spoilers #miraculous spoilers #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #sabine cheng #ml wang #chloe bourgeois #gabriel agreste #ml salt #ml critical

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nrilliree · 3 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/pterodactylterrace/748208580465999872/overhated-female-character-defender?source=share

1.Laenor has demonstrated on more than one occasion that he loves these children and considers them his own despite not being biologically his. The man is delighted with baby Joffrey and looked at him with the love of a father. Trying to deny this is simply being too stupid and wanting to vilify Rhaenyra.

2. Most of the time we see Laenor, he is doing whatever he wants; he drinks heavily and constantly spends time with his lover without any discretion. All Rhaenyra asks of him is basically not to leave and to not leave her and her children alone.

3. This idea that Rhaenyra is "abusive" to Laenor is a bit strange because it has never been shown that she is abusive to him. They were both forced into marriage. Laenor and Rhaenyra have problems like any marriage; she has never hated him for being gay or for being with other men. We only see one scene of them arguing, and she has been his wife and companion for over 7 years. Arguments in marriages are normal; spouses and friends can be sarcastic when they are fighting and angry, this does not mean that there is no love or affection for each other.

4. The Team Green are very amusing because they will always use the book when it benefits them, but when it doesn't benefit them, the book canon and the series canon are different. In the series, Rhaenyra did not get pregnant immediately after her wedding to Laenor as she did in the book, because it is impossible for her to have done so. Aemond had not been born and he is older than Jace, which implies that Laenor and Rhaenyra were married for several months before Jace was born. Considering that both admit to having tried in the series, this is logical.

5. Laenor is a gay man, he will never feel attracted or 100% comfortable having sex with a woman because he is gay. This idea that they should have tried much harder is a bit strange if you really care about Laenor because basically you want the man to go through hell and be abused. The worst part of this is that it comes from the same people who feel sorry for Alicent for being a victim of marital rape…

6. This person also deliberately forgets that Laenor is unfaithful to Rhaenyra as well. She also has to bear the burden of being a cuckolded wife, with her husband preferring men over her, which is humiliating for her too. This attempt to portray Laenor as a poor victim deceived by his wife is strange because he is also unfaithful to Rhaenyra...

7. Laenor decided to leave with his lover; if he hadn't wanted to do it, he would have refused or sought a way to escape or speak to his parents to tell them what was going on and to help him, but he didn't. On the contrary, Laenor accepted to leave and even masterfully participated in the dramatization of his fake fight with Qarl. If Laenor were sorry or wanted to return, he could have returned, but he didn't; it has been more than 5 years and he is still far away with his lover. He agreed to do this.

As I said, I'm blocked, so I don't know what it says, so I'll refer to your post.

Look at Laenor:

Does he look like he doesn't love this boy? He wanted to name it himself, telling Rhaenyra that they were his children too. We saw him with Joffrey in his arms several times, even on Dragonstone when he didn't have to hold him and could have given him to a wet nurse, but he didn't. As @thedammitsoldier once wrote, "People forget that they were his boys too." Laenor was their father for what, eight years? He raised them, he was their father. And that they weren't his? Are these people suggesting that adoptive fathers are not fathers? That they don't love their children?

Laenor had a few cross scenes, but he still showed that he is a better father than anyone else on this show, lol. At least he didn't neglect the children, give them a wrong sex complex, or become their pimp. Little Luke loved him - he comforted him at the funeral, wanted to hold his hand, and was shocked when Aemond said that "you will die like your father in the flames", because his father was alive. (Aemond choked him, threatened to kill him and smash his head, and earlier he threatened to throw Rhaena to Vhagar - do you think that poor Luke wasn't scared that something happened to Laenor?) Laenori and Rhaenyra were probably the healthiest marriage we see in HotD because they were partners and unquestionably loved each other as friends. We see this in their conversation in Driftmark.

Laernor agreed to leave because he knew it was the best option. Alicent wasn't shy about bringing up the argument about his orientation, even at his sister's funeral, when Laenor was in complete despair and she insinuated that he was having fun with young boys. After what happened in Driftmark, she wouldn't give up. Laenor abandoned his children and family, but he did it to keep them safe. Daemon will keep the boys safe. Corlys trusted Daemon because they fought together on the Stepstones. Laenor too. Daemon and Laenor developed a relationship, and from his conversation with Laena, we know that Daemon at least respected him. So in my opinion, Laenor definitely had a hand in the planning.

#house of the dragon #team black #anti team green #hotd #pro team black #rhaenyra targaryen #anti alicent hightower #anti team green stans #laenor velaryon

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phoebepheebsphibs · 2 days

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Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 4: Habitat

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

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Splinter and Casey Jones Jr. wait at the garage as the turtle tank zooms in, the tires screeching to a halt as the automatic brakes kick in. The vehicle lurches slightly, then settles.

Splinter's foot taps anxiously. CJ twists and twirls his weaponized hockey stick in his hands. They wait in silence for the boys to emerge.

After a moment, Raph's head pops out of the window.

"We'll be out in a minute!" he shouts. "Just... figuring out some stuff..."

"Well, hurry up!" Splinter shouts back. "I want to know how your mission went."

"Did you find Mikey?" CJ asks nervously.

Raph doesn't answer, apart from a slight grimace; his Raph chasm wrinkles with stress as he slinks back into the tank.

From the window, CJ sees a four figures in the vehicle. Four? Four!

"They have him!" He exclaims with excitement, tugging on Splinter's sleeve. "They got Mikey back!"

Splinter's face breaks out in a smile, looking up in desperation as he tries to get a glimpse.

"Where do you see him?"

"In the tank. I think he's talking with the others..."

CJ saw silhouettes moving around in the tank. One that he could clearly recognize as Raph had walked back into the cockpit and started talking with the others, using animated movements to accentuate his point. They must be having a serious discussion, or an argument. The two other figures, Leo and Donnie, start putting in their notes, obviously not happy with something he'd said or suggested. They all start arguing together. The fourth and smallest silhouette began moving away, crawling onto the console... wait, what?

Casey's eyes widen when he sees the face staring at him.

The yellow spots against dark green skin almost make him look like a reverse leopard. Crouching on the console, slouching hard and pressing his face up against the glass and slobbering slightly as he watches CJ with intensity.

He feels like he is being hunted for some reason. The glowing red eyes freeze him to his spot.

"Future boy, what are you looking at...?" Splinter asks, looking up. He can't see from the angle he's standing at. He starts backing up to try and get a better view.

From inside the tank, one of the brothers pulls Mikey off the keyboard and away from the glass. Splinter couldn't catch a glimpse. He sighs.

"What is taking them so long? I'm going in," he grumbles.

"W-wait," Casey stutters, not sure what to do in this situation. He doesn't even know what 'this situation' is! But... was that really Mikey?

Splinter saunters to the floor hatch of the turtle tank and climbs up the ladder. He opens the hatch and starts to climb inside when a dark green blur suddenly zooms past him, knocking him down and running past him.

"AGH! Mikey! Catch him, don't let him get away--!"

Casey screeches in fright and lifts his leg away just as the blur zooms past him, barely missing him. It runs into the lair, turning a corner and disappearing.

"Mikey, come back! Pops! Are you okay?" Raph asks, panicking at the sprawled figure of his father on the ground.

"Uggggh.... someone get the number of the truck that hit me," Splinter groans.

"He'll be fine," Donnie says flatly, peering down at his dear Papa.

"What was that?!" CJ yells, running up to the tank to help Splinter. "Was that Mikey?"

"It -- uh," Leo mutters, nervously climbing down. "It... was..."

"What happened to him?" CJ asks with terror in his eyes.

"We don't know," Raph sighs. "Donnie did a quick scan, but we have yet to see the results."

"Orange...?" Splinter groans, looking up. "Where did he go?"

"Into the lair," Casey points. "Should we go after him?"

"Probably," Donnie says, already running after him. "He might try to attack the projector or something."

"What?!" Splinter yells, immediately running back inside. "My tv!!"

Shelter. Must find shelter.

Mikey scrambles around the lair after accidentally squashing something underfoot. The smell tells him it's someone familiar. The softness and squishiness of the body tells him it must be... uhhh.... the father. His name is... eeehh... rat? No...

He'll figure it out later.

Right now, he wants safety. Security. Familiarity and comfort. Not this metal moving thing.

He runs away from the vehicle he was shoved into and dashes into the corridor, past another person. He doesn't see the face. He catches the smell as he passes it. It's not as familiar, but he recognizes it. He doesn't remember how. He can't recall if it's a good smell or a bad one.

The figure jumps at his speed. Mikey isn't sure if he wants to attack it or leave it. He moves so fast that he doesn't get to pick, and simply allows the adrenaline to run him. Literally.

Shelter. Find shelter.

Mikey's eyes work differently now. The area is darker than the cage he lived in. His vision doesn't adjust, but shifts. He can't see shapes and lighting and colours so much as temperatures. Heat vision activates. He skids under something big and soft. It is very dark under here.

Not safe. Not shelter. Find shelter.

But what IS the shelter he so desperately wants? What is he looking for??

He hears something. He pokes his head out from under the cloth-covered structure he hid under. It sounds loud, lots of voices and sounds and noises and... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmusic? Music!

That is a word! He remembers that word! He likes it, he likes music.

The other sounds are agitating him, though. He covers his ears for a moment. He can't tell what is making the noise. There's no one in the room but him. He looks up and behind. Something in a rectangle shape is glowing brightly with mechanical heat. The noise is coming from that. He growls at it, but it doesn't seem to want to hurt him. Does it??

Mikey slithers out from under the object he's been hiding beneath. He slowly stalks up to the device. He hisses at it. He whips his tail. It doesn't do anything. Just makes noise and light.

It is not dangerous. Just annoying.

Mikey runs out of the room.

He likes the extra space. It isn't cramped like the cage, or confined like that big metal vehicle.

Zoomies. Zooming around. Run. Free. Space. Freedom.

Mikey runs into another room. It is much brighter in here. His vision adjusts again, causing a minor headache between his eyes. It vanishes quickly. He glances around the room. There are countertops, cabinets, a table with benches.

Sanctuary? Safe?

It feels familiar enough...

He crawls around the room, sniffing.

It smells amazing. So many scents and aromas... how has he never smelled them all before now?? He had, once. But not like this! Not so strong and aromatic... It starts to become a bit overwhelming.

He jumps up onto a counter top and scratches at a cabinet door. After a few tries, he gets it open. It is filled with dishes and mugs. Mikey sniffs the mugs, bumping each one with his beak, trying to find a scent he can recognize. He finds one. Bitter, but the smell makes him think of the colour purple. Coffee...

Mikey hops down and starts looking around more. There is a big door at the end of the room. He hooks his claw around the door and pulls. There is food inside it but --

COLD!! Don't like it, we don't like it!

Mikey makes a small screechy noise as he slams the door shut. He shivers violently at the temperature. Whatever they did to change him, they made him very sensitive to the cold...

Mikey leaves the room... the 'kitchen'.

Another word! Yay!

Mikey smiles. This new place is much better. Helps his head. Helps his thoughts.

Mikey zooms.

Mikey pauses at an opening... it leads to a large empty tunnel.

Not empty...

Big metal thing? Big metal house??

Safe... Shelter...

Mikey goes towards the big metal houses. One has a series of keypads and locks on the door, pink and purple lights blinking from the inside. One has red designs and patterns painted over the doors, with hanging lanterns lighting up the windows. One has a hole with a curtain covering it from the inside.

Mikey presses his face against the tarp, pushing through it. He peeks into the room, looking around. There are weapons pinned to the walls and comics scattered across the floor, boxes piling up by the shelves with trophies and action figures, posters for music groups and sci-fi movies plastered and taped to the windows. It is dimly lit, causing his vision to switch in between heat-seeking and not. But it is inconsistent and shifting, causing a splitting headache as his eyes try desperately to decide which way to go before simply splitting the difference and causing everything to look like lava lamps.

Not shelter.

Mikey creeps to the next metal house... it has orange and yellow paint decorating it. Flames and chains and suns and smiles and silly faces. It's so bright.

The door is wide open.

Mikey slinks inside.

It isn't dark in here. There are fairy lights hanging all around, sparkling and illuminating the room softly. There are small lamps plugged in by the floor, and neon LED lights hanging from the walls. The room is full of colour, but not overpowering. Calming. There are shelves with toys and action figures. There is an entire wall covered with paper drawings. A desk with crayons, pens, pencils, paints, spray cans...

A hammock.

Mikey wiggles slightly, adjusting himself and calculating his jump. He leaps up into the hanging cloth, finding pillows and blankets filling it up. It is so soft...

He digs into it, grabbing it with his teeth and kneading it with his knuckles. Once he is satisfied with how it has been folded and jumbled, he buries his face into the blanket, churring and purring as he crawls into the space he has prepared.

It is dark, warm, quiet.

Safe. Shelter. Finally.

Mikey smiles.

"...Well he's gotta be somewhere -- did anybody check his room?"

A voice infiltrates the silence. A familiar smell. Blue walks in, disturbing the peace. Mikey doesn't mind. He's happy he's here. He can trust Blue. Blue smells trustworthy.

Blue quietly walks to the mound on the hammock and lifts the blanket up slightly.

Mikey beeps at him with a smile. His tail wags happily.

Blue smiles back at him.

"There you are," he says. "Welcome back to your little habitat, Mikey."

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#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt mikey #double mutation #double mutation mikey #mutated #mutation #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfic #ficlet #short stories #short story #fanfic update #fanfic #fanfiction

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cienie-isengardu · 2 days

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Zuko & Azula in "The Beach" [2]

Another thing I like about Zuko and Azula’s relationship in “The Beach” episode is how Zuko does not question his sister’s sincerity nor look for hidden goals, the way he does when they are at the palace.

At the palace there are “why” and “what you want” questions looming over their interaction. It does not matter if Azula is telling the truth and acting out of sibling love/sympathy for her older brother or if she is a clever mastermind that will use Zuko as scapegoat in case of her own failure. The point is Zuko can’t trust his sister, because his self-preservation instinct and fears of Ozai won’t allow him to lower his guard around her, because Azula is the person that will gain the most from his fall out of grace. It is however worth to note, that despite the uncertainty of his relationship with Azula, she is one of three people Zuko comes to seek advice, comfort and/or information before leaving Fire Nation on his own accord. The other two are Mai and imprisoned uncle Iroh which shows both A) how important Azula is and B) how complicated is their relationship, at least from Zuko’s perspective.

But then during “The Beach” episode, Zuko only once questioned Azula’s motivation and accepted her reasoning without further doubt or scorn:

Zuko: Why didn't you tell those guys who we were? Azula: I guess I was intrigued. I'm so used to people worshiping us. Ty Lee: They should. Azula: Yes, I know, and I love it. But, for once, I just wanted to see how people would treat us if they didn't know who we were.

From all the people gathered here, Zuko is the one that knows best how people may treat you when they don't know who you truly are - or in case of Zhao, when you were no longer protected by Fire Lord. As he spent around three years working hard to earn back his title of the Prince and the respect that comes with it, he had the most reason to argue against sister’s plan and simply enjoy the prestige he wanted. But he did not try to discourage Azula from pretending to be a normal teenager and rolled with her plan with no complaint - even though he knows very well how bad his social skills are.

Another important thing to note, once Zuko had an argument with Mai and in result was kicked out of the party, he has never used the “I’m Royalty” card. If Azula chose to stay there, her anonymity was secured and she could still pretend to be a normal teenager and to flirt with boys without any supervision (any risk their father will find out).

But as the episode showed, Azula didn’t stay at the party and she went to look for Zuko, presumably once she learned what happened (she was at that time trying and failing to flirt with Chen, so she may not witness her brother’s outburst). And here comes the thing that contrasts a lot with their interaction at the palace: Zuko doesn’t question Azula’s motives.

When she comes to their vacation home, he doesn't ask why she left the party - her occasion to be just a teenager, something she was curious about - or why she would even bother to check on him. Zuko doesn’t even look surprised to see Azula there, only commenting “Those summers we spent here seem so long ago. So much has changed.”

Similarly, Zuko doesn’t question Azula’s “Come down to the beach with me”. There is no “why would you want to spend time with me?”, nor demand to be left alone - and mind you, the one time in flashback Azula insisted Zuko join her and her friends, it was to make fun of him and Mai. Here, Zuko takes sister’s invitation without any hesitation or without further persuasion.

Franky, the same can be said about going to the party itself. When Chen & Ruon-Jian invited Ty Lee and Mai, Azula immediately asked “What about me and my brother? Aren't you going to invite us?”, like she and Zuko are a package deal. It was not “what about me, and hey, this loser sadly must go with us”. Without second thought Azula included his brother and there was no following scene in which Zuko questioned why his sister would want him to tag along, when she already has her friends to accompany her.

And this contrast between Zuko’s mistrust when they are both at the palace and how they are getting along without constantly questioning if Azula has some hidden goal really highlights the difference between those two settings. The same as could be seen with their teamwork during the game, the siblings can support each other without bitter rivalry imposed on them by father’s favoritism. And yes, there is still (emotional) tension between them when they talk about their traumas, but I think Ember Island is a place where Zuko and Azula feel more free to act as siblings. Which really makes one wonder what kind of siblings they could be, if they were allowed to grow up as such.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #prince zuko #zuko #azula #zuko and azula #ember island is the safest place where zuko and azula can be siblings

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shveris · 3 days

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collection of my jjk headcanons

toji would be the type of dad to sob pathetically when megumi gifts him a drawing for father’s day and responds with “no i’m just allergy to genuineness” when meg asks him if he’s crying

gojo “megumi, i don’t need to use my six eyes to look through you and see your daddy issues” satorou

satorou would probably one day give in to suguru’s constant “you should get a piercing” and lets shoko do it (after hyping himself up for hours). he settles on a septum because it’s easy to hide since he doesn’t have the nerves for an argument with his grandparents

modern au sukuna who got his tattoos on his face and body and allat but they only show under UV light, he’d look so fucking cool in clubs

after taking in the fushiguro siblings, satorou some times made nanami watch over megumi and tsumiki when he got too busy with missions. he’s who tsumiki got her directness from and megumi his distaste for satorou’s antics

suguru would be the type of guy to have snake bites but due to high stress levels and anxiety he ends up biting through the plastic every few weeks (his piercer looks baffled every time he comes back for replacements)

satorou has visual synesthesia which helps him greatly in combination with his thermal vision that he has due to his six eyes

shoko has no idea how to pierce properly but she keeps doing them (mainly for suguru) because she can just use her CT to immediately heal the wound, skipping the usual 6-10 weeks of waiting time

suguru made it a habit to always carry around some gum with him so he can clear away the taste of tobacco on his tongue (satorou refuses to kiss him otherwise)

yuuji is a great cook and the day sukuna noticed that, he kept bugging him about how he should prepare him some human meat dishes

sukuna is scared suspicious of microwaves

some nights, satorou starts floating in his bed when he sleeps, which he rarely does but you get the point

#jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu #itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #megumi fushiguro #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #shoko ieiri #shveris’ blue spring

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kame-writes · 9 hours

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Media Overlords drabble - Girls night

Velvette turns up at the Hotel

Charlie rushed to open the door, surprised to hear it being knocked so late in the afternoon. There was a giddy, optimistic part of her hoping that it was someone interested in staying at the hotel. And despite the fact that it hadn't happened yet, she still greeted the person on the other side with a Dazzling smile. “Welcome to the Hazb-”

“Zip it Princess, nobody cares.” The impatient cockney voice instantly gave away who it was, and she didn't sound in a good mood.

The Vees generally didn't come out to the hotel, except Vox who was a naussance on a debatably regular occasions. Valentino was out right banned on pain of something about Alastors shadow, which had been a huge relief to Angel Dust. So Velvette standing with her hand on her hip in the doorway was a very odd sight indeed.

“I'm just here to pick up my number one bitch for the day.” She explained, pushing her way through the door and into the lobby.

“Uh Angel Dust?” Charlie guessed, not sure who Velvette meant. Angel was a good guess, since he was always in fashionable clothes for his shows, which she assumed came from the social media overlord.

“Pffft as if. He wishes he was number one.” With a scoff Velvette brought a hand to her lips and let out an ear piercing whistle, before screaming. “Girls night!”

Immediately, there was the sound of quick, tip tapping sounds as someone ran down the stairs. A red and white blur rushed past Charlie and launched itself into Velvette’s arms.

“Niff, how you been girl?” Velvette grinned, pulling her into a spinning hug, before settling the much smaller sinner on her hip, able to hold her almost like a child since she was so much smaller. “Towers been boring as fuck without you running around causing chaos.”

“I'm in a war with the cockroaches!” Niffty beamed, excited as always to talk about her unusual little hobbies. “You should see my collection, hehe, I put on puppet shows with them!”

“Good for you. Now then, the boys have pissed me off today, so we're going all out. I'm talking spa day, retail therapy, the works. If we don't max out at least one of Vox's cards, we ain't doing enough.”

“Ya know. Al gave her a job here. He ain't gonna like you taking her away like this.” Husk pointed out from the bar.

“Stay outta this pussy cat. If that Deer bastard’s got an issue he can come back to the tower and hash it out with me personally. Hear for himself just what I think of him demoting my girl to a fucking janitor.”

“I like to clean!” Niffty grinned, not seeming to see the same Issue Velvette was.

“So. You're taking Niffty shopping? Is she going to be gone long?” Charlie asked, clearly a bit apprehensive about letting their weird little maid leave by herself with an Overlord.

“I don't think it gives us a good image, if our staff is seen out and about with the Vees.” Vaggie pointed out, making herself known from further back in the foyer, glaring at the young overlord suspiciously.

“Oh please. What kind of Hotel only has, like, two guests anyway. One or two posts on my Sinstagram and your crummy little hotel could be crawling with patrons.” Velvette almost giggled, turning around to hold up her phone for a selfie.

“Aheh. I wouldn't do that if I was you, little lady.” A familiar staticky radio voice spoke out, a second before its owner materialized from the shadows, leaning forward on his cane with slightly narrowed eyes aimed at Velvette’s phone camera. “Unless of course, you wish for the first shop you visit to be buying a replacement.”

“If you break one more of my phones I swear to-”

“Let's, uh, not get into a fight shall we?” Charlie cut in, anticipating this to only get worse if it was allowed to continue.

“This hotel is not in affiliation with the Vees. As I have made very clear on multiple occasions.” Alastor's voice was a casual firmness, being polite instead of argumentative. “It is a place for sinners who honestly want to give redemption a shot. Not some tacky, tourist photo opportunity for your social media scrutiny.”

Alastor straightened up from his forward lean, walking over to put himself between both Charlie and Velvette, slightly to the side so he could address them both equally. “However. If Charlie wishes to allow you some form of promotional material. Perhaps you may ask her to join you on your outing today? Ask some questions, take some photos together. Be seen supporting our darling princess in a few of your posts.”

“I'm not letting Charlie go anywhere with an Overlord. It's bad enough that you're here. And even then I'm only about sixty percent sure you're not a threat to us.”

“Sixty? My, I've gone up in your estimations.” Alastor laughed, backed up by a condescending laugh track. “But very well, I suppose it would be remiss to leave you behind.”

“Hold up. This ain't some kind of playdate.” Velvette snapped, putting Niffty back down on the floor to instead stand with both hands on his hips, hip checked to the side with very obvious attitude. “I'm here for Girls night with-”

“And the last time I checked, both Charlie and her paramour were of the female persuasion.” Alastor said, more firmly this time. “Girls night seems like a wonderful bonding experience for all of you!”

Charlie looked back at Vaggie, who was holding her spear to the side, not looking thrilled at the idea, but not outright rejecting it either, and Niffty was bouncing on the spot with a hug grin stretching wide across her face. “I… guess it wouldn't hurt to get to know eachother. I mean, if your a friend of Al's, and wanted to help out.”

“Ooooo! Girls night got bigger.” Niffty gasped, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Urgh.” Velvette groaned, racking a hand down her face in annoyance. But the fond look she gave at seeing how happy the idea made Niffty softened the blow somewhat. “Fine. I suppose being seen with the princess isn't cramping my style too much.” The resignation in her voice was palpable, and the knowing look she shot Alastor only validated his smug expression.

“Wonderful! Anything Charlie buys, you may take out of my personal account.” Alastor said brightly, stepping aside to allow Charlie to pass. “I look forward to hearing all about it this evening.”

Vaggie reluctantly followed the others out of the hotel, moving besides a bewildered but optimistic Charlie, who already looked like she might break into a full round of twenty questions at the drop of a hat.

“And don't you fret princess. I'm sure the boys and I will have things completely under control here until you get back.”

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #helluverse #hazbin hotel au #media overlords au #hazbin velvette #velvette #hazbin niffty #niffty #alastor #hazbin au #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #charlie morningstar #charlie magne #hazbin vaggie #vaggie #charlie

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freesia-writes · 1 day

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Chapter 2: School

Enjoy a riveting tale of romance, suspense, adventure, and self-discovery as Hunter finds his path after the events of TBB. Rated PG-13 for some mild suspense, suggestive talk, alcohol and drug use, and adult themes. Banner and dividers by @pinkiemme

~ Master List here ~ Previous Chapter

Chapter 2: School (Word Count: 2.7k)

Hunter winced, one hand on his shoulder as he moved his arm in a circle, trying to work out the sore spot from the morning’s wrestle with an angry bruallki that had apparently only feigned death from his shot. He’d had time to hunt, spend a few hours in his shop, and get cleaned up before heading up the hill to Omega’s school. It was a plain rectangular building on top of a grassy plain that housed students from the youngest grade levels up to young adults within its brick walls, but the island wasn’t too populated so the classes usually consisted of about 10 to 15 students each. He opened the door to the office, shifting his bag on his other shoulder as the attendance clerk looked up at him brightly.

After checking in, Hunter was free to walk the halls in search of Omega, who was late in meeting him at their usual spot in front of the school. It wasn’t unheard of — she was usually either caught up in conversation with one of the staff members she’d taken a liking to or lost in thought from diving into one of her assignments as soon as she could. True to form, Hunter soon found her in the back of the administrative wing, in a little corner office that was full of dark wooden furniture. There were a few small, warm lamps, and there was Omega, relaxing in a cozy chair in front of a plain desk with a chiseled nameplate sitting on its corner: Lyra Vetana, Records Clerk.

The woman behind the desk looked to be a bit older than him, or what Hunter assumed it looked like for nat-borns, with long brown hair that was mostly straight, a somewhat angular jaw, and smile lines around her mouth and eyes. She was currently nodding slowly at whatever Omega was sharing, and as Hunter approached, he caught her attention, her gaze soon followed by Omega’s, who piped up immediately.

“Oh hey Hunter! Sorry I’m late. Lyra was just sharing about what past students have done during their apprenticeship year. She’s got a bunch of great ideas!”

“Yeah?” Hunter answered, shifting his focus to Lyra, who shook her head with a small smile.

“Just what the kids have come up with,” she corrected, straightening a random pile of papers off to the side. “But I apologize for holding you up.” Her voice was smooth, with just a little bit of husky texture that made it imperfectly pleasant, and it matched her humble and unassuming demeanor. Hunter could see why Omega appreciated her company; she had a steady, soothing presence, although it seemed somewhat flat.

“It’s alright, just got some work to do before dinner,” Omega reassured her, rising to her feet and pulling her backpack out of the chair beside her. “Which I bet is steak again, right?” She aimed the question at Hunter, who exhaled through his nose as he tilted his head at her.

“Look, you should be happy that I can cook anything at all, you know…”

“I’m just kidding,” Omega said, patting his shoulder as though she were the parent. “You’re doing great, and you’ve come so far!” Hunter resisted the urge to roll his eyes, although her words carried some weight, and he caught what looked like a condescending smile on Lyra’s face.

“I make salad too…” he grumbled, and Lyra turned a laugh into a cough so quickly it made him second guess what he’d heard, squinting at her as she turned to move that same stack of papers all of a sudden.

“Shoot! I need my interview journal; I left it in my locker. Be right back, and then we can go!” Omega announced, trotting out the door to leave Hunter standing awkwardly in front of where Lyra was seated at her desk. But then he realized a potential solution to an argument he’d had that morning with Omega.

“Hey, quick question…” he began, looking over his shoulder before dropping into one of the chairs in front of Lyra’s desk. “I… ah… Omega’s very special, and… I know it’s real safe here and all, but… We’re still new, and I just want to make sure… she’s alright… you know. And I know she comes to talk to you often, and you have been here at the school for a while…” He rummaged in his small sling bag for a moment, finding it hard to meet Lyra’s curious gaze.

He found what he was looking for and held it up for her to see. It looked like it could have been a large button from a piece of clothing, but upon closer inspection one could see that it was a different kind of button — a small metal cylinder that could be flipped open with a raised round part to press inside. “Would you do me a favor and hang onto this? It’s… it’s an emergency beacon, and if anything ever happens, you press it and we can be here immediately. Omega refused to keep it on her, but… I just…”

Lyra regarded it, and him, with an unreadable expression, brow furrowing for a moment before relaxing. She held out her hand, inviting Hunter to give it to her, but he paused.

“Look, I know it seems paranoid, or overly protective, but there’s a lot that I just can’t explain, and I know you’ll probably never have to use it, but it would just make me feel better if—“

“I get it,” Lyra interrupted reassuringly, giving him a small, serious nod as she beckoned for him to place it in her palm. He felt a disproportionate cascade of relief; maybe he’d built this up more than necessary in his head, but he appreciated knowing there were extra safety measures in place. “I don’t see her all the time, but if there’s ever an emergency, I’ll let you and her mom know.”

“No mom,” Hunter shook his head, “Just me.”

“Oh, sorry— you said ‘we’ could be here right away, so I just thought—“

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “Me and our brothers.”

“Got it,” Lyra said quietly, closing her fingers around both the button and a million unasked questions.

“Thanks,” Hunter said, nodding in finality before rising to his feet. He leaned out the doorway, peering down the hall and still finding no sign of Omega, then returned to his post just inside the door, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. He was still getting used to the social situations outside of war, and truth be told, he sometimes missed the rushed simplicity of mission after life-threatening mission. Casting a glance back to Lyra, he was somewhat relieved to find that she’d pulled some other files out of a folder and was tapping away at her keyboard. He couldn’t get a read on her… was she dismissive? Standoffish? Content? Or just didn’t feel the need to force conversation?

“So ah, what is it you do here again?” he asked, the words flowing without his permission. He cringed inwardly, hating the complexity of civilian life at times, but Lyra paused her typing and met his gaze with a patient warmth that lessened his anxious overthinking.

“I’m a records clerk, which means I have the great esteem and honor of filing away every transcript, work study application, apprenticeship offer, accommodations meeting notes, and so on. Basically, if it happens here, I record it here. And if people need any data from the archives, I’m the one to find it for them,” she answered, poking fun at the seeming unimportance of her job without the full cynicism of one who legitimately resented their duties.

“Sounds peaceful,” was all that Hunter could think to say, and his estimation was met with a slow nod.

“It is,” Lyra agreed, the faintest smile touching her thoughtful expression. “And you? What keeps you busy on the island?”

“I’m a hunter, ironically enough,” he answered, smirking dryly. “And a butcher. I have a meat shop down in The Cobbles,” he continued, referring to the part of town just above the beaches that was the notorious center for businesses, restaurants, galleries, and city government offices.

“Ahh,” came the enlightened realization. “Yes. I’ve heard of it from other staff members here.” Hunter wondered what else she’d heard, but judging by any response he could sense, there was nothing more to it. “Not a lot of imports on the island, so everything you sell is from here?”

“Freshly blasted daily,” Hunter said with a mock chipperness that made them both snort. There was something about her that he couldn’t quite figure out, whether she was genuinely enjoying the conversation or just tolerating it, whether she had more to say or was simply killing the time they were forced to interact. But he supposed it didn’t matter much, and as they fell silent again, Hunter could hear familiar footsteps approaching.

“Well, I appreciate you being here for Omega… and all the other kids,” he said quietly, and he caught a wistfulness on her face before it disappeared instantly. Lyra smiled and nodded demurely, brightening up when she saw Omega in the doorway.

“Ready?” the girl asked Hunter, beaming back and forth between him and Lyra.

“Ready,” he echoed, giving Lyra a polite dip of the head before taking his leave.

* * *

The house that Hunter and Omega shared was not far from Tech and Phee’s, sitting on the side of the hills that stretched up from the beaches in rugged terrain peppered with large boulders and cliffs. The island had an interesting layout – large, flat beaches wrapping around the entire coast, then The Cobbles, an aptly-named cobblestoned street with storefronts spaced out neatly on both sides, punctuated by a few older residences, a small garden, and some town governance buildings. The entire island was fairly cut off from most everything else in the galaxy, with very few trade connections, resulting in a harmonious self-sufficiency where each person specialized and contributed to the overall good through commerce or direct trade. The business area was the one main street that stretched in a gentle upward slope from the beach to the cliffs, where it stopped abruptly.

The island topography continued to rise from there, slowly but steadily, with houses peppered across the hills above The Cobbles. There were trees and meadows scattered across the land, and the majority of the population lived on the western side of the island in small homes or flat, layered apartment buildings that were spread out above the business district. The apartment complexes huddled together around the Town Square, a large, open area full of string lights, street vendors, food carts, and an endless array of farmer’s markets, cultural events, musical performances, and so on. Single-family homes were spaced out more along the walking paths that snaked up and down the island, nestled among trees and hills.

A few were tucked further into The Forest, which covered the eastern side of the island in a rugged, dense landscape full of trees and rivers. It was virtually unpopulated save for the houses on its western edge. Near the top of the island, above the layers of homes, lay a large, grassy meadow that stretched out in soothingly gentle slopes. A few ranches had settled around it, utilizing the perfect supply of everything they needed to raise agriculture, and off to one corner of the space sat the school. The highest point of the island was a small mountain upon which they’d built an observatory, although it was chronically out of order. Life on Xylo was a cozy, quiet way, punctuated with whatever creativity the locals could concoct. There were a few other populated islands on the planet as well, each having its own specialty and unique feel.

Hunter brushed his hands on his apron, the soothing bumps of embroidery warming his heart as he remembered Omega’s beaming face when she’d gifted it to him. It was the initial product of her first job shadow, and she’d chosen a plain gray fabric on which to hand-sew her best attempt at two large 9s in Aurebesh as well as a rudimentary copy of Hunter’s half-skull tattoo.

The meat sizzled in the pan as he turned it, spattering hot grease in response to his prodding. He’d added some herbs this time, filling the entire house with the mouthwatering scent of perfectly-balanced flavors. Omega was chopping vegetables on the wood block next to him, chattering happily about the amazing variety of local produce that was supposed to be available at the next farmer’s market.

It had been a hard decision when they settled on the island of whether to live together as they always had or to try to branch out into their own spaces. Phee had commandeered Tech into a home of their own, Echo was interested in the communal setup of one of the small neighborhoods, and Crosshair had found a peaceful home with Batcher in the same area, leaving Wrecker and Hunter staring awkwardly at each other. It had worked out quite well, however, as Hunter had found a cozy house in a small clearing surrounded by trees that also included a comically small additional unit across the tiny meadow that was a perfect fit for Wrecker in every way except his size. But the brawny clone had a knack for construction and had single-handedly remodeled the entire thing to be more suitable. The main dwelling on the property was a typical “cabin in the woods”, and with a few modifications had become a soothing place of respite for both Hunter and Omega, whose small bedrooms branched off the main room that boasted a large fireplace and plenty of wood-hewn furniture.

“This is my new favorite,” Omega said, as they dug into their dinner.

“The bacon-wrapped sirloin was the best so far,” Wrecker mumbled through a mouthful. He had a knack for showing up right at dinnertime, and his presence always filled the room with even more warmth and joviality. That, paired with the fact that he almost always trundled in with his latest catch over his shoulder, had solidified his place at the table above and beyond the fact that he was family.

“This sauce on that steak would be fun to try,” Hunter mused.

“Oh! I’ve got a trip coming up!” Omega announced, pushing her food to the side of her mouth and waving her fork excitedly.

“Yeah?” Hunter asked, tilting his head curiously. “For what?”

“Madame Dreyfus is going to take me on a purchasing run where she selects all of her base fabrics and shows me what to look for. Then she’ll show me which types are most conducive to different colors and types of dyes.”

“Sounds fun!” Wrecker exclaimed, attempting to counterbalance the trepidation he could hear in Hunter’s voice.

“Mhm,” Hunter conceded, “Where does she go for that?”

“One of the other islands; I forget the name,” Omega answered.

“Plata?” Wrecker asked, grinning at Hunter’s sharp look in his direction. He was referring to the second largest island on the planet, notorious for its vibrant nightlife and “you only live once” sort of atmosphere.

“No,” Omega laughed, “One of the agricultural ones.”

“Oh. Sounds good,” Hunter said slowly. “Just you and her?”

“Us, two seamstresses, and their students!”

“I don’t know,” Wrecker said in hesitant, drawn-out syllables that made both Hunter and Omega look at him quizzically, but the thinly-veiled mischief in his eyes gave him away immediately. “I’m not sure Hunter can manage without you. How long will you be gone?” His attempt at consternation was met with a delighted giggle from the girl, who tilted her head at Hunter with a playful, motherly expression.

“You’ll have to keep an eye on him for me, Wreck,” she replied in her chipper voice. “The trip is three days long! And this whole year includes trips with our mentors, so he’s gonna have to get used to it!”

“Aaawwww, Hunter,” Wrecker fawned, “What are you gonna do?”

“I guess I’ll find a way to survive,” Hunter stated dramatically, the gleam in his eye belying his own intent. Omega’s chuckle was drowned in the boom of Wrecker’s laugh, and the three of them finished their dinners in good spirits.

Fanart by @snotbuggle in an awesome post with other amazing clone works here!

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