#but this dedication is wild someone has to study it
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is kinda insane that hannibal is STILL top trending on tumblr 8 years after it even did anything how has no one cashed in on this?! do they not understand these bitches are still talking about it so passionately it's trending on the main 'obsessed with TV shows website' EIGHT YEARS after even last aired??? that's actually mental. is any show so consistently trending that long after release? imagine how much the viewership had grown since it's been cancelled. exponential growth someone please think of the economics of a S4 the internet would explode
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Falling
(ao3 link)
Dedicated to @madigoround, my one constant Steddie cheerleader. I hope you like it! ❤️
It’s said if you truly want to get to know someone, tell them no. Watch how they act when they’re angry, when they’re sick, when they’re wrecked by grief.
The truth is, Eddie thinks, the way to truly get to know someone is to watch them when they think they’re not being watched.
So, Eddie watches people. He watches Tommy Hagan ascend the ranks of social hierarchy, climbing closer and closer to the top of the totem pole until he reaches the zenith and finds himself stuck with fake friends and a fake life. He’s mean, in the way that Eddie knows someone is mean to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.
Eddie leaves him alone, ignores him best he can, and hopes Tommy will have the dignity to do the same.
He watches Carol Perkins, faux-model that she is, use her body like a weapon, like a credit card. He knows that she knows that way only heartbreak lies. No one moves to stop her. Eddie knows she’s hurtling towards self-destruction. He knows she’s ignored at home.
He watches Steve Harrington. His ascent to popularity, then in the blink of an eye, his fall. How easily he shrugs off the mantle of King Steve, starts carting around middle schoolers.
How he flinches at loud sounds, abrupt movements, flickering lights.
Steve Harrington intrigues Eddie, is the thing. And Eddie’s never been the type to deny his intrigues. So he studies the fallen king more.
Some things make sense, after spring break. Some things don’t.
Steve has three smiles: the real one, the one everybody thinks is real, and the fake customer service one. He hardly ever uses the first. He’ll use the second a lot. The kids are dipshits, brash in the way only a teenager can be, unaware and uncaring of the effect their words have. Specifically, the effect their words have on Steve.
When they make jokes about his intelligence, Steve will force on a little half-smile, an unaffected air, even as his shoulders slump inward and his chin tips down.
Eddie sees it. He also sees what Steve looks like, eyes wide and wild, grinning and gesturing freely, as he discusses basketball with Lucas or football with Uncle Wayne. Eddie understands the stats he somehow manages to keep track of (even Eddie has notebooks for all his character sheets and all the math everything requires. He’s forgotten, more than once, how he’d done something for a past campaign, and digs through his notebooks until he finds it. But Steve pulls the numbers out of thin air, hardly even pausing as he finds them in his mental filing cabinet, and Eddie is impressed, to say the least). He knows Steve’s smart, even if it’s in a different way than the kids are used to.
He makes a point to mention it. Steve’s over watching the game with Wayne, and Eddie whistles as he listens in to their conversation from the kitchen where he’s making lunch. “That’s some memory,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I couldn’t keep all that straight.”
Steve blinks at him. “What, like all your D&D people?”
“Characters. You don’t want to see the amount of notebooks I have, trying to keep everything straight, and it still ends up all going to hell when I can’t find something.” He raises a challenging brow, daring Steve to argue.
Steve just laughs and leans back into the couch. “Whatever, man, I still think it’s impressive. I’ve been watching for years, it just kinda makes sense that I’d remember a few facts.”
“A few?” Eddie’s eyes light up. “Wayne, quiz him.”
Wayne snorts. “What’m I, your errand boy?”
“Yes,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He grins at the snicker it pulls from Steve. “Please, Wayne?”
Wayne narrows his eyes at Eddie, then softens his gaze when he moves it over to Steve. “You up for it?”
Steve chuckles. “Sure, I guess. It’d be nice to see how much I actually know.”
For the next few minutes, Wayne gives a name and within a few seconds, Steve’s answered with stats about that person.
Eddie, ever the competitive soul, ends up invested, grinning and high-fiving Steve when Wayne runs out of names. “Knew it,” he said, happily noting the blush making its home on Steve’s cheeks.
“Ha,” Eddie jokes later, ribbing Dustin because he can. “Kiddo, that was worse than-” he thinks for a few seconds, then sighs and raises his voice. “Steve? Who was the guy who did the thing you and Wayne were mad about?”
Dustin judges him with his eyebrows. “Even if Steve had any idea what you’re saying, what makes you think he’d know-”
“Phil Simms,” Steve called back from the kitchen. “Great player, actually, just wrong team.”
Eddie hummed, enjoying the shocked look on Dustin’s face. “Nah, not quite doing it. Who’s the losingest team?”
Losingest team, Dustin mouths, mocking. Eddie notes that he doesn’t actually say anything this time, though.
“Depends. Jets started at ten to one, then lost their final five games. But the Giants beat the Redskins 17 to zero. They also beat the 49ers 49—heh—to three, but that was earlier in the season, and no one expected San Francisco to win anyways.” He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on his face. “Does any of that help?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie says, even though he has zero idea what Steve actually said. He’s staring, smug grin firmly affixed to his face, at Dustin.
Lucas, over on the couch, sits up straight and stares at Steve. “Did you see Montana’s comeback?”
Steve grins. “Fuckin’ wild, man, but I kinda hate Walsh for letting him. Like, I’ve been there, right? And that was…” he shakes his head. “Not good. Yeah, it’s been weeks, whatever, but an injury like that?” Steve crosses his arms, shakes his head.
Eddie stares, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, possibly, falling.
When the kids make jokes about Steve’s appearance, he’ll put a hand to the back of his neck and rub, force down the blush, avoid eye contact.
Eddie knows Steve’s not shy. So he doesn’t understand why Steve reacts like that until one day he compliments Steve. It’s a simple little line, you have gold in your hair, but Steve beams. Eddie’s left wondering about the difference, realizes there’s a certain type of compliment Steve’s received all his life, that probably ended up less than welcome at some point.
So Eddie makes it his life’s mission to make Steve beam the way he had the first time.
One time they’re out lounging by the pool while the kids splash around, beers in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Steve tips his head back to take a drink and Eddie realizes something. He leans forward to get a better look. “Your eyes are hazel,” he says delightedly, grinning at the flush rapidly showing on Steve’s cheeks.
Steve looks like he’d very much like to take a page out of Eddie’s book and hide behind his hair in that moment. He hides behind his beer instead, takes another sip as he waits for his face to get back under control. “Are they?” He asks, like he doesn’t know. He’s such a little shit. Eddie’s obsessed.
Another time, Eddie breaks in (is it breaking in if everyone and their mother knows where Steve puts the spare key?) and starts making breakfast while Steve’s out on a run. He almost swallows his tongue when Steve walks back in, sweaty and flushed, wearing shorts that God Himself must have sculpted just for Steve.
Instead of saying that, Eddie adopts an unaffected face and raises a brow. “Pretty sure there’s a fine for public indecency, sweetheart, and those shorts break about eight of those rules. ‘Course, no one’s gonna say anything when they’re on you.”
Steve laughs, light and happy as he accepts the water Eddie hands him. “And why’s that?”
“Because I think you single-handedly caused every gay crisis on the police force.”
Steve laughs hard enough he snorts, and Eddie’s immediately hellbent on hearing that sound again. “That so?” He asks, then pauses. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”
Eddie shrugs, like it should be obvious. “Making breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”
“And you couldn’t make them at your place?”
Eddie just shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Steve badly hides his grin as he shakes his head and turns around, citing a need for a shower as he heads upstairs. “Don’t burn the house down!”
“Betrayal!” Eddie yells back, grinning when Steve cackles again.
Eddie stares as Steve walks upstairs, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, probably, falling.
Eddie studies Steve. Studies him and watches him more and more. His mannerisms, his interactions with others. And he realizes something very interesting: Steve’s always the one to reach out.
He tugs Dustin into a teasing headlock, rubs his knuckles over the top of his head. Flings his arm over Lucas’s shoulders, pokes at Mike until he responds, bumps Will’s elbow with his own. Brushes his fingers over Max’s arm, pulls El into a hug. Robin is the only person who consistently pulls Steve into a hug, and even so, most of the time it’s teasing; a quick, sharp thing, jerky movements and practically pushing him away when she’s done.
So Eddie starts. Brushes his hand across Steve’s shoulders as he’s walking by. Poking at Steve’s cheeks to get a reaction. Quick, tight hugs, at first.
Or… that was the plan. The first time he pulls Steve into a hug, they’re alone, because Eddie does not want to have to deal with Dustin and his dramatics in that moment. So Eddie pulls Steve in, arms flung around him and squeezing in a half-joking manner, and Steve practically melts.
“Jesus fuck,” Eddie mutters, stumbling a little. “You good, Stevie?”
Steve pulls back, a blush making its way across his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. It- it won’t happen again.”
Eddie frowns. “How the fuck is that what you got from it?”
Steve shrugs. “I know I can be… well, Nancy called it clingy, and I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past who called it clingy, and if it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, then…”
“Shit, Steve, no, that’s not- what the fuck were your girlfriends on? Why would they call that clingy? That’s not- Christ, Steve, if that’s clingy, sign me up. Seriously. Just warn me next time, we don’t all have the body of a Greek god, we can’t all carry our somewhat-acquaintances out of hell.” He grins at Steve, a half-thing that grows when Steve tentatively grins back.
“Body of a Greek god?”
“Oh, don’t go fishing for compliments, I know you, you’re not that shallow.” He rolls his eyes, smiles. Tentatively places his hands on Steve’s arms, just above his wrists. “You hear of something called touch-starved?”
Steve cautiously looks him in the eye. “I can guess,” he finally says, and Eddie pulls him into another hug.
This one lasts for something close to a minute, and Eddie ignores it when Steve takes a step back and molds his face back into shape. “Anytime,” he says quietly, like a promise. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Steve agrees.
It happens again a week later.
Everyone’s over for Hellfire. Steve was in the kitchen, had been there practically since everyone had trickled in.
There’s a quiet clatter, an even quieter shit, then a pause before Steve heaves a sigh. “Eddie?”
Eddie furrows his brows in concern, motions for everyone to stay where they are, then makes his way into the kitchen, seeing Steve gripping the edge of the sink. “Steve?”
“I’ve been having a shit day,” he starts. “If… if you meant what you said. Last time?”
“Anytime,” Eddie swears. “Hey, Stevie, c’mon, the sink’s not going anywhere, let’s let go, yeah? Wanna stay down here or go upstairs?”
Steve makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Your game-”
“Will be there later,” Eddie finishes. “Here or upstairs?” Steve shakes his head, a sharp movement, and Eddie recognizes it. “Want me to pick?”
“Please.”
“Upstairs. Can you do it yourself?”
Steve makes another guttural noise, pulls away from the sink, and marches upstairs.
Eddie follows. All the way upstairs, into Steve’s room, pausing to close and lock the door. “We’re safe,” he says quietly, and opens his arms. “Stevie?”
Steve trembles as he allows himself to be hugged, hands fisting in the back of Eddie’s shirt, head guided to the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.
Eddie pets a solid hand down Steve’s back, squeezing at his waist for a moment before bringing it up again, just below his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay, we’re all safe. What’re you seeing, Stevie?”
Steve takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” he admits. “Kinda fucked me over.”
Eddie’s heart clenches. “I’m here,” he promises, and guides them onto the bed. “D’you want to be on top or bottom?”
He feels Steve’s brows scrunch against his shoulder. “What?”
“Some people need the pressure of someone on them. It’s grounding. For some, it’s too much.”
“Oh,” Steve mutters. “You on top.”
Eddie bites his tongue on the joke that wants to come out. “M’kay, c’mon, then, still not the one with the body of a Greek god.”
He feels Steve’s tentative smile as they roll over, a breath huffed into his chest. “Always liked Apollo.”
“God of the sun,” Eddie agrees. “Suits you.” He gets his arms out from under Steve, puts them on his shoulders. “This work?”
Steve hums. His eyes are shut. “Didn’t wanna take you from your game. Sorry.”
“And I told you it’ll be there later. If you need something, I want to help you get it. Simple as that.”
Steve sighs, tips his head to the side. His chin brushes the back of Eddie’s hand, and he does it again. “This works.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, watching Steve brush his chin over the back of his hand. “If there’s something you want, I need you to ask for it. I can’t read your mind.” Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes open, and Eddie clicks his tongue. “Close your eyes.” They drop shut again, and he nudges the back of his hand a little harder against Steve’s chin. “What do you want?”
Steve sighs again, gathering courage. “Want you to play with my hair.”
Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He brushes his hand up, traces the line of Steve’s silhouette, up his chin, his nose, around his eye. Drags the backs of his fingers across his forehead, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Nothing. Steve relaxes back into the pillows.
Eddie gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs gently, releasing to scrape his fingertips over Steve’s scalp. Revels in the hum Steve lets out. “Sunshine boy,” he murmurs. “Who takes care of you?”
“Sunshine boy?”
Eddie smiles softly, even though Steve’s eyes are still closed. “Gold hair, gold eyes. My own personal Apollo.”
Steve smiles. “You’re Dionysus.”
“Mm. God of drunken joy and madness.”
“And theater.”
“Oh, yes, how could I ever forget one of the billion things one of the billion gods was known for.”
Steve snorts. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hands brushing Eddie’s waist. “I shouldn’t need this. Any of it.”
Eddie cards his hand through Steve’s hair again. “But you do.”
“But I do,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “And you just… you’re selfless.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
Steve snorts. “You’re full of shit.”
“Yup. Selfless and full of shit. Sounds about right.”
“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, cracking open an eye to look at him. They both still, caught in each other’s gaze, realizing just how close they are to each other.
Slowly, so slowly, Steve looks away. “Go back to your game,” he whispers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Okay,” Eddie responds at the same volume, and slowly gets up. He lifts his hand off the doorknob when Steve calls his name. “Yeah?”
“Stay? After?”
“Sunshine boy,” he says again, just to get that smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’ll stay after.”
After comes sooner than either of them expect, but Dustin got sloppy, and what’s the point of one-shots if not to throw them to the wind when it all goes to shit, so there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and thoughtless decisions and uncaring dice rolls before it ends and everyone’s packing up.
Dustin’s mom comes to pick up everyone who didn’t drive there, because she’s an angel of a woman, and Eddie makes excuses for why he’s staying until finally he doesn’t have to, it’s just him and Steve, and Steve’s looking at him with the softest smile and something that looks like adoration shining in his eyes.
Eddie opens his mouth to start, then shuts it with a shake of his head. “C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”
Eddie sits first, and Steve stands, hands wringing one another, until Eddie leans forward, grabs them, and gently guides him to sit next to Eddie. “There.” He holds one of Steve’s hands in his. “Do you want to start, or should I?”
Steve worries his lip. “Do we need to talk about it? If we both know what we’re saying?”
Eddie grins. “So if I were to start talking about buying little party hats for raccoons…”
Steve snorts. “Okay, you ass, point taken.” His smile falls. “You’ve been… really nice to me, these past few months. And that’s not why, not at all, but it doesn’t exactly hurt either. I just…” he shakes his head. “Why me?”
“Why you what? Why am I nice to you? Why have I been taking care of you? Why-” the question sticks in his throat for half a second. “Why do I like you?”
Steve smiles, bashful, and looks down at their intertwined hands. “All of the above, basically.”
Eddie taps the back of Steve’s hand thoughtfully. They both watch the movement. “Because you’re worth it,” he says simply. “Because no one else does it. No one else sees what you do for them. No one else cares. I do. I don’t think I was given a choice, honestly, you looked at me and I was fuckin’ gone. And I’m gonna keep doing this until you believe me. Until you believe that you deserve to take up space, to exist, to have wants and opinions and preferences.”
“It might take a while.”
“I’ll be right here.”
“I might never fully believe it.”
“I’ll be here forever.” He pulls their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s.
“It sounds like a lot of boring work.” His voice is high, thready. There are tears in his eyes that fall when he blinks.
“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
Watery eyes narrow at him. “Did you just quote a fucking Greek tragedy at me?”
“Uh. Maybe?”
Steve snorts, shakes his head, and leans in to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s old news, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, feels his heart skip a beat when Steve responds by nuzzling his throat. “Is that it, then? We’re done talking?”
Steve sighs and tilts his head up so they can look at each other. “I like you too,” he says quietly. “Just… for the record. And I want this. And…” he bites his lip, then just as quickly releases it. “I wanna kiss you. Um. If that’s alright.”
“Sunshine boy,” Eddie murmurs. “Of course that’s alright. Get up here.” He pulls as Steve pushes up, meaning Steve overbalances and sprawls across Eddie’s lap. They stare, wide-eyed, at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.
“Okay?” Eddie checks, even as Steve rights himself and scrambles the rest of the way onto Eddie’s lap, grinning as he plays with the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.
“Perfect.” His grin grows and a tiny little giggle slips out, like he’s so happy his body just can’t contain it all anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you.”
It’s less a warning, more an explanation for why he’s so happy, and it has Eddie’s heart full to bursting in his chest as he slips his hands just under the hem of Steve’s shirt to rest them directly on his waist. “You are,” he agrees. He almost jokes—not if I kiss you first—but knows Steve needs this. “Take your time,” he says instead, even though he feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. His hands are steady, though, as are his eyes when he looks into Steve’s.
“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” He’s whispering now, so Eddie drops his voice to match.
“It’s a big thing. You’re allowed to be nervous. Is there any way I could help?”
Steve scrunches his nose up, then moves to rest their foreheads together. “Um. Close your eyes? Maybe?”
Eddie’s eyes immediately shut. “Take your time,” he promises. “Or we can wait. There’s no shame. I won’t be upset.”
“Yeah, but I will,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles.
“There’s a movie,” he starts. “An old silent film that Wayne likes. I watched it with him because he said something about vamp, so of course my mind went to vampire. It wasn’t, to my dismay, but there’s a line. A seductress bewitches men by getting them to kiss her. One man’s about to kill her, like gun-to-the-head about to kill her, and she says kiss me, my fool.”
He can practically feel Steve’s grin. He can definitely hear it. “Which one am I?”
“Oh, definitely the seductress, have you seen yourself, sunshine? I’m the fool in this scenario. Or any scenario, really.”
Steve hums. “Dionysus.”
“Shut up.” He’s laughing, though, grinning at Steve’s giggle, then freezes when Steve’s lips land on the corner of his. “Oh,” he whispers when Steve pulls away.
Steve laughs softly, puts a thumb at the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. “You can open your eyes.” He’s whispering again, and Eddie looks to see Steve staring at him, a small, wondering smile on his lips.
“Heya, sunshine,” he whispers, almost choking on the amount of emotions he feels.
“Hi.” He pauses, fidgets. “Can I kiss you for real?”
“Yeah. You want me to close my eyes?”
Steve shakes his head. “Just… kiss back.”
Eddie grins, wide and in love. “I was planning on it.”
Steve grins back, just as wide and just as happy. “Shut up.”
“And if I said make me…”
Steve giggles. “I might just have to,” he says before finally leaning in, slotting their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss.
He tastes like the pizza they’d been eating and the beer they’d been drinking, and underneath that is something so Steve, and Eddie wants to spend the rest of forever discovering that taste. When they pull apart, his eyes open—when had he closed them?—and land on Steve, who’s also in the process of opening his eyes. “Wow,” he murmurs, and Steve giggles as he rests their foreheads together again.
“Just about.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Steve whispers, so Eddie wastes no time in sealing their lips together again. It’s still soft and slow and sweet, and Eddie focuses on making Steve relax against him. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair, squeezes a little at the nape of his neck, runs it down his back, down his side, to knead at his hips. In response, Steve hums into the kiss, shifting a little to let more of his weight rest on Eddie’s lap. Eddie does it again and again, thrilled at the feeling of Steve finally relaxing fully onto him. They both pull away, lips wine-dark and tender, and Steve smiles, eyes still closed, as Eddie runs his hand through his hair one more time. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the trust in his voice.
“Maybe that’s my plan,” he answers. “I seduced you just to get you to take better care of yourself.”
Steve’s smile widens. “That’s the only reason?”
“Obviously,” Eddie teases. “Well, that and the fact that I’m ridiculously into you, but that seems like a separate thing.”
“Right,” Steve agrees, giggling. He opens his eyes and presses a quick peck to Eddie’s nose. “I’m kinda ridiculously into you, too.”
“Well,” Eddie says, because out of everything, of course this would be what takes his words away. “Good.”
“Good,” Steve agrees, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie leans back into the couch, adjusting his hold on Steve so he’s as comfortable as possible. “G’night,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over Steve’s temple.
He can feel Steve’s lips lift into a smile. “Night, Eds.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s neck, and Eddie smiles as he tilts his head back into the couch.
He stares up at the ceiling, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, definitely, falling.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#touch starved steve harrington#I don’t think I’ll ever write him another way honestly#stranger things#steddie fic#st fic#Eddie has the patience of a saint#(mostly he’s just in love)#Steve is struggling#honestly idk how else to tag this#starambles
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DEMO (TBA) | Cast Profiles | Cast Interviews-Round 1 | Cast Interviews-Round 2 | The Muse: Spotify
The Muse is a 18+ slice of life interactive fiction novel set at NYU focusing mostly on the art departments in the Steinhardt and Tisch schools. Inspired by my love for shows and movies like Felicity, Fame (the show), Skins UK, and Center Stage. This will not be an accurate depiction of school life at NYU, I'll be taking lots of creative liberties.
Content Warnings: explicit language, sexual themes, substance use, violence, mention of SA
You come from a family of artists and art lovers. Your mother is a passionate curator for a small gallery in the city and your father is a sculptor and painter with a very dedicated cult following. They met when they were just starting out and have built a lovely life for themselves and their two children, you and your older brother Cameron.
Your parents have always been super supportive of you and your brother’s dreams and ambitions. They were a great source of encouragement and guidance for your brother on his path to discovering his goal to become a game designer and you on your path to become whatever you choose.
Growing up surrounded by such creativity just so happened to inspired you to want to create something of your own.
Now that you’ve graduated high school it’s time for you to head off to university! You’ve decided to leave the mid sized city that you call your hometown, and go to the big city NYC! You’ll be attending NYU more specifically, but you won’t be making this move alone you’ll be attending with your best friend Maxine!
What will you discover in your university life?
Will you solely focus on schoolwork or wind up in the raging party scene?
Will you explore new creative endeavors or solely focus on honing your craft?
With so much going on will you even have the time to possibly find your muse, or maybe even become someone else’s?
Design your mc from clothing style to physical appearance to pronouns, gender identity, name, looks, and more.
Choose 1 of 9 majors that grant you different classes with new students and professors: (Studio Arts, Dance, Drama, Photography and Imaging, Jazz Studies, Songwriting, Recorded Music, Collaborative Arts, Dramatic Writing )
Curate your MCs personality and how they react to all the drama and excitement university life has to offer. Style your MC’s dorm room and their aesthetic style.
Navigate the cliques and scenes to figure out where your MC fits in. Maybe you're a social butterfly and you just float from one social group to another!
Engage in a romance with 1 of 10 characters. 5 female/male gender selectable and 5 gender set characters. And 2 poly routes one with The Rebel Rejects and one with The Exes (Faye and Karla).
Choose one of three part time jobs to give you a little extra spending money for things like spring break and birthday gifts for your new friends.
Follow The Muse through your MC’s freshman and sophomore years. Junior and senior year will come much later in Book Two of The Muse. The third and final book in The Muse series will cover the start of MC's new life after graduation.
Roxanne/Robbie Sawyer: (f/m) The lead singer and guitarist of The Rebel Rejects. Ro is everything you would want in a lead singer cool, charismatic, and super talented. Don’t let their dazzling aura intimidate you though because though they may have a raging wild side they can also be extremely down to earth.
Joleen/Johnny Nielsen: (f/m) The drummer of The Rebel Rejects. Jo is the oddball of the band with a sunny exterior and twisted flower child past. They may be a sweet boho bimbo with a heart of gold, but there’s a lot more that lies behind those blue green eyes.
Delphine/Desmond Hartley: (f/m) The bassist for The Rebel Rejects. De is the super glue propelling the group forward. With high expectations from their parents, and dreams that soar even higher, success is the only option.
Rina/Ren Fukushi: (f/m) R is the best ballet dancer in this incoming freshman class, and no one would ever think to say otherwise. They’re cold and closed off, if it isn’t about ballet then they don’t want to hear it.
Everly/Everett Thompson: (f/m) Eve is a triple threat. Singing, dancing, acting they can do it all. They hope to complete their EGOT before they turn 40.
Karla Reyes: (she/her) Karla is a sophomore at NYU studying Studio Arts. Her favorite medium is watercolor on canvas. She dabbled with sculpting and ceramics...until she broke up with her ex, Faye, and can’t stand to be in the same studio with them.
Faye Winters: (she/they) Fae is every bit the ethereal being they seem to be, and just as flighty. She is a sophomore majoring in dance with a minor in studio arts. She has this effortless charm and beauty that extends to her art whether its her dancing or her sculptures.
Sebastien Auclair: (he/him) Sebastien is in his third year of university, he’s an exchange student from the Paris College of Art. He is studying photography and imaging. Sebastian loves Paris, but he is excited for this change of scenery.
Maxine Matthews: (she/her)Max is your best friend in the world! Your parents are friends so you were destined to best pals since birth, thank god you actually like each other or all those shared family functions would have been really awkward. Max is funny and always has great commentary for every show or movie that you watch together. Which is why you weren’t surprised when they decided to major in dramatic writing. Some people think that you’re too close. They wonder how is it possible that you could be just friends.
Silas Walker: (he/him) Silas is your RA. As your Resident Advisor he's super helpful and friendly. You have question about the best study spots, bad professors, how to use the subway, well he's got answers. He keeps all his advisees at arms length because everyone knows RAs can't canoodle with their advisees. And that just makes it all the more enticing.
#interactive fiction#dashingdon#twine if#twine interactive fiction#interactive novel#interactive if#choice of games#choice script#choose your own adventure#choose your own story#twine game#twine story#if: intro#if: themuse#interact if#interact-if#if wip
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Sweet like Cherry – Chapter 2
Miles Quaritch x female human reader
Words: 6.5k
Summary: Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.
Warnings: explicit smut, voyeurism, exhibitionism, bullying, teasing, sexual tension, virginity, fingering, masturbation, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, nudes, corruption kink, slight praise and degradation / humiliation, daddy issues, age difference, authority kink, alcohol consumption, edging
Notes: I wrote this during the worst writers block ever, so I feel like there’s still so much left unsaid in this chapter, ugh. Whatever. I still hope you guys enjoy it! Also, please don’t get confused but I’ve decided to switch the pov between Miles and Cherry every other chapter so the story can be seen through the eyes of both of them.
The first time you could remember being called a nerd it had been as an insult. Of course.
The term exactly used was ‘stupid nerd’ after you had refused to give the answers to a biology test to the rest of the class in highschool. You could handle being called names, it wasn't that much of a big deal. In fact, you were a nerd. There was no way around it. No matter how many times you insisted you had been to any party’s on the weekends instead of studying all night long or that you had made out with that definitely-not-imaginary-boyfriend after school, you were and you would always be a massive nerd.
Nothing to be ashamed of, honestly. It’s what had gotten you this job, after all.
Driven to succeed starting from a young age, you had excelled academically, earning top grades and winning numerous awards. You‘ve always been particularly interested in science and botanic, and even pursued a degree at a prestigious university.
After graduation, you set your sights on this rare opportunity to work at a highly coveted research lab, one that only a handful of people in the world had ever been invited to join. Over the years, you worked tirelessly, taking on increasingly complex projects and earning the respect of colleagues and superiors.
Spending long hours studying, researching and practicing your skills was the reason why you ended up being one of the candidates that were considered for this job. And when the time came to apply, you submitted a flawless application that showcased your brilliance and dedication.
Yes, you were a nerd. But in the end, you had beat out hundreds of other highly qualified applicants for the chance to be send to Pandora, working for the RDA‘s botanical scientific team.
So, it wasn't like you didn't like the word. The only issue was, that it brought back some unpleasant memories you thought that a twenty-five year old adult should have already been over.
But the first time someone on Pandora had called you a nerd, you didn't come back to that memory. No, your mind was entirely too focused on taking in the sight and presence in front of you to even have time to go back to that place, back to the time in school when people thought intelligence was a reason to bully.
The main cafeteria was as cramped as usual, soldiers as well as scientists taking in their meals in the spacious hall. It was well-lit and ventilated, with long tables and benches filling the room that almost reminded you of the cafeteria at your old university back on earth.
The food options are diverse, thankfully. Ranging from traditional earth cuisine to exotic dishes from Pandora. The atmosphere was bustling, with conversations and debates taking place between colleagues, while others sat in silence, lost in thought. Despite their differences, everyone seemed to be united in their shared mission on Pandora, which was something you realized right after your arrival on this planet a couple of months ago. It made you feel like you finally belonged somewhere.
Poking around in what looked like pasta, but was actually some green-yellowish-vegetable, you absently listened to your coworkers wild discussion about a topic that seemed pretty much endless to you.
Maggie‘s latest success of exchanging phone numbers with Phil from floor 3.G. A computer engineer and now basically the talk of the town. The town being you and a couple of female coworkers your age that often shared lunch together, but otherwise barely interacted if it wasn’t work related.
Apparently, it was a rather big deal for Maggie to finally get into Phil’s pants, because, and I quote, "it’s been forever" and "I almost feel like I will revert into a virgin back again if I don’t get laid anytime soon" followed by cheerful laughter and agreement of the whole group.
It was weird, you thought, how people act as though not getting laid is the worst thing that could possibly happen to a person. You, honest to god, could not care less whether or not you will have sex in the next century, much less the next couple of years.
Deciding that you’ve heard enough nonsense for the day, you packed up your lunch and excused yourself with a polite smile.
Lost in thought, your feet tapped on the floor as you waited for the elevator doors to open, so you could travel up to the main lab and continue your work in peace.
Sure, the other scientists were nice and under other circumstances you would maybe even consider them as more than just coworkers, you think to yourself. But you weren’t here to make friends.
The doors then slide open with a ding, cutting off your train of thoughts before your eyes fall on the wall of blue muscles and green cargo pants that were about to exit the elevator, stopping yourself just in time before you ran into them.
These must be the recombinant soldiers all of bridgehead city was talking about lately, you thought. They looked like Na‘vi, almost identical like the ones you’ve studied in books and seen on photos, when the head of security advised you and the others on your very first day on Pandora. You knew Na‘vi were inhumanly tall, but these guys were god damn trees! You had to crane your neck all the way up to even look at their faces.
Your eyes fell on the soldier standing more in the front than the others, spine straight and chest puffed out like a leader. His skins was a midnight blue, with faint, bioluminescence dots all over his body, barely visible in the bright daylight. His eyes immediately landed on you as well, bright like stars and boring through your very soul, like you were an insect that landed on his windshield.
You were so lost in your admiration of the foreign view in front of you, that your feet decided to grow roots underneath your soles, instead of showing proper etiquette and stepping aside.
"Move it, nerd", the recom suddenly said, his voice low and thick and more like a deep, annoyed grumble than anything else. The soldiers behind him begin to chuckle as you quickly scrambled to the side so they could finally pass. Even though he was quite tall, he seemed to move lithe and with grace. Silent, even with heavy combat boots and packed full of military gear. His tail gently swaying behind his back and ears laying flat against his head, he reminded you of a cat.
A big, blue cat.
"At least these damn science pukes never change", you heard the same blue soldier say to his companions before the elevator doors closed right in front of your face, leaving you alone with the reflection of your dumbstruck expression in the silvery reflection.
Colonel Miles Quaritch was the one you’ve crossed paths with on this day. The one who’d called you a nerd, followed by the extremely creative term 'science puke'. Of course you had heard about him, heard his stories, told by soldiers and scientists like he was some kind of myth or legend. And maybe he was.
Until this day, you still don’t know what exactly it was, that made him so incredibly fascinating to you. At first you thought, that maybe you were just mesmerized by the first Na‘vi-like humanoid you had seen in person. They were pretty, no doubt. Exotic. But then again, you weren’t really interested in any of the other recoms.
It was just him.
Cold logic told you that the most sensible thing to do right now was forget about him.
Miles Quaritch was a man of authority. He wasn’t just a guy, like Phil from floor 3.G was just a guy. Not just any man on this moon, not just any man in his mid twenties that you should consider more appropriate and fitting for a woman like you.
So maybe it was the fact that he was older. Old enough that if you would dare to say it out loud, the thought that you think of him as attractive, people would throw concerning looks at you and maybe even scrunch their noses in disgust. Old enough, it would send your mother into a coma.
There had to be some rule against woman finding men around their fathers age hot. Men whose authority made them ten times more attractive. Men that were exotic and alien and blue and tall and— There had to be some law that– that could protect you from the dangerous man that Quaritch was. There had to be something in the books about dealing with this.
This being the pounding in your chest whenever you thought about the Miles Quaritch being the one to pop your cherry. A thought that had never crossed your mind before, not in all of your twenty five years of living, and not with any other man you’ve met before.
Since that day, you kept seeing him and his squad almost daily. Usually, it was just the two of you walking past each other in the hallway, him entering the cafeteria just as you left or watching him get on a samson helicopter from the giant floor-to-ceiling window of the upper laboratory. He definitely was a busy man, never lowering his gaze enough to acknowledge you or literally any other human.
You might laugh if you weren’t feeling so…conflicted, right now. Honestly, how the fuck are you supposed to keep going about your business as usual after this? Making you feel the way he does and then having the nerve, the audacity, to pretend like he hadn’t just thrown your whole world for a loop?
And that’s the painful realization that finally hit you on this tuesday night, after a hot bath with a side of one or two glasses of wine. Okay, maybe three.
To him, you were just one of the many unimportant nerds on this stupid moon, blending into the background like you were part of the interior design.
The third— no, actually it was the fourth glass of wine that you emptied with a final, big gulp. It had a sharp flavor that made you grimace when you were still at your first glass and burned your nasal passages in a similar way to horseradish. But now it was bearable. It’s not like you had any other choice than to drink this overly expensive pandorian wine, made from grapes that were sown and reaped on the soil that was soon to be the new home of mankind. Definitely not worth the price of thirty bucks for a bottle, though.
Turning around in your bed, you sat the glass down on your nightstand. Glancing around, your eyes fell upon the polaroid camera, your camera, perched on the chair by the small wooden desk. Memories come flooding back as you looked at it, reminding you of home and the countless moments captured by the instant camera.
You could almost hear the sound of the shutter and the whirring of the film as it developed. A sense of nostalgia washes over you as you remember the familiar faces and places immortalized by it. For a brief moment, you feel as though you had transported back to your childhood home, surrounded by the warmth and comfort of your family. It was a gift, the old thing. Meant to capture photos of the new world, friends and moments with a loved one. Someone your family, and maybe deep down even yourself, were hoping you would finally find here.
With a sigh, you shook your head as if that would shake off those thoughts. But the harm’s already been done and your interest has already been piqued.
The only guy in this city, on this damn moon, that you were maybe just a teeny-tiny bit interested in, would most definitely never notice that you even exist. You were certain that even if he magically decided to do so, he wouldn’t even find you attractive, let alone interesting enough that you would truly capture his attention for more than two minutes. Your confidence was further undermined by your tendency to overthink and second-guess yourself, making you feel even more inadequate.
If only there was a way for him to acknowledge your existence, to know that there was someone who’s interested in him, without the further embarrassment and humiliation of him knowing who exactly you are and having to stand in front of this giant blue man, and possibly his whole squad too, and confess whatever feelings you harbored for him. Feelings you couldn’t really put a name on just yet.
May it be through the fifth glass of wine and the fact that drinking always lead you to things that never turned out good -the main reason why you thought you had quit drinking at all- or call it faith, but somehow your gaze lands on the little polaroid camera once again. God, it must’ve really been the fucking alcohol screwing with your brain, because there was no way you, of all people, was actually thinking about this.
A man like Colonel Miles Quaritch must’ve been hard to impress. He wasn’t a man of many words, so anonymous love letters wouldn’t do. But he was still a man after all, and if there was one thing you’ve learned in these past couple of weeks (thank you, Maggie), then it was the fact that men were obsessed with the female body and seeing them pop up on their screens at 3am.
But that would require you getting your hands on either his phone number, which you doubted even exists, or his work email, that was probably supervised by someone. A man like Quaritch that was so important to the whole of Bridgehead city really wasn’t an easy target when it came to anonymous messages, let alone nudes that were meant for his eyes only. Which left you with one choice only.
It had to be the old fashioned way.
Being reckless surely didn’t get you into this career path. Actually, it was the complete opposite.
Usually, you were rather cautious and thoughtful in your actions and decisions. You take the time to weigh the risks and benefits of a situation before making a choice, prioritize safety and responsibility over immediate gratification.
Planning ahead and taking steps to mitigate potential risks, rather than rushing headlong into a situation without considering the consequences was more like you.
While you may have not always been the most spontaneous or adventurous type of person, your friends- okay scratch that, your coworkers respected you for your level-headedness and reliability, your sense of conscientiousness and a desire to act in a responsible and considered way.
You didn’t spend half your life being teased as prudent, too careful and deliberate, just to now act like a brainless, horny teenager. Yet here you where, at exactly four-thirty in the morning, sliding a set of carefully chosen polaroids under the gap of Quaritch‘s door.
By now, you knew his daily routines, knew his busy schedule by heart. When he was gone to workout with the rest his squad, knew when he was at the cafeteria and when he was away for a mission. Still, you couldn’t help but glance both ways, making sure the hallway was empty, before you slid them under his door and made a run for it like a school girl placing chocolate on her crush’s desk on Valentine’s Day.
You blamed it on the adrenaline pumping through your veins that day, and also the days after that, but you found yourself laying in bed with a hand buried between your thighs quite more often than usual. Not that you would actually call yourself a voyeur, but there was just something about knowing Quaritch had now officially seen you naked that did something to you.
Miles Quaritch didn't– wouldn't ever touch you, you knew that, was well aware of that even if it pained you. But then again, nobody ever said you couldn't take a deep, shaky breath, slip a hand beneath the waistband of your pyjama pants, and shut your eyes as you touched yourself, imagining it was him touching you, instead. There was no harm in that, really. And you even came to the conclusion that you would be perfectly fine to continue living like that.
In those rare moments you’ve been seeing him during lunch break or the split seconds of passing each other in the hallway, you didn’t note a significant change in his mannerisms. Not towards you or literally anyone else. However, the tension in his shoulders seemed to have loosened up the past couple of days. Not by much, but enough for someone like you to notice. Which could mean two things. One, he still hadn’t figured out that the woman on these anonymous, but very explicit, polaroid photos was you. And two, he didn’t mind receiving them.
This theory was surprisingly proven right just a couple of weeks later.
Unfortunately, in this moment, you weren't as excited about those news as you thought you would be. If anything, you felt like a child getting caught with a hand stuck in the cookie jar, while balancing on a chair that only stood on one leg to reach the top of the fridge.
"Well, well. Look what we have here. If that ain’t my sweet little cherry…"
With trembling fingers, you entered the pass code to your room, the door unlocking with a familiar click to reveal a dimly lit bedroom.
You absently cursed yourself for not making the bed before you had left, too busy rushing out and get to the Colonels room for your daily delivery, hoping he wasn’t back from his mission yet. Luck definitely wasn’t on your side today.
After a long moment of standing motionless in the doorway, you suddenly felt a large palm on your lower back, gentle, yet firmly pushing you further into the room. Your shoulders begin to tense up at the thought of who was standing right behind you, crouching to even fit through the door.
The floor under his heavy combat boots creaked as the Colonel followed you, otherwise silent as a cat. You dared to glance over your shoulder just once, looking back to find him scanning your room like he was entering dangerous territory. His golden eyes almost seemed to glow in the dark, and it send goosebumps prickling over your skin when they landed on you.
Your room wasn’t particularly big, so it only took three or four steps for you to reach the center of it, coming to an halt right in front of your bed before you slowly turned around to face him. You clenched and unclenched your hands into fists at your sides, feeling your fingernails dig into sweaty palms.
Your heart was still racing as Quaritch eyed you up and down. With a sinking feeling in your chest, you mentally prepared yourself for the consequences that awaited you, expecting that you would inevitably face a scolding for your actions.
Your lips parted to speak, yet his voice was quicker to slice through the thick tension in the air.
"Show me", was all he said, arms crossing over his board chest, like a teacher expecting to hear a step by step explanation on how you came up with the answer to a question that was way out of your brand of knowledge.
"W-What?"
The Colonel tsks, but he doesn’t sound all too angry. If anything, he sounds amused. Like this was a game to him, and it made you feel so much smaller next to him than you already were. "How you do it", he chuckled lowly, "Show me how you took these photos, cherry."
His words left you speechless. You could physically feel how your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and words failed to find their way past the knot in your throat. In all honesty, you expected thing to take a different turn here.
The prompting raise of his eyebrows was all that it took for you to plop down onto the edge of your bed.
There was this strange, pulsing sensation in your underwear, hot and insistent— almost an ache, as you stared up at Quaritch with wide eyes.
"Where do you usually put the camera?", he asks ever so nonchalantly, looking around briefly before his eyes bore into yours again and you force yourself to swallow around the lump in your throat.
"There", you point to a chair next to the table in front of your bed. "It has an automatic shutter. Goes off every couple of minutes so I don’t… h-have to get up every time."
The Colonel nods attentively, and then he moves to where you point, one long stride before he sits down right there on the chair. It’s comically small underneath him, his thick thighs spread wide as he leans back and the seat creaks underneath his weight.
"Go on", he urges, his hand gesturing in the air before it comes to rest at this thigh. "Take off your clothes."
A minute passes, and this is too strange for you to be comfortable with. He couldn’t except you to strip down right here, right in front of him. Not with him just sitting there, watching.
You glanced down at yourself with a frown, subconsciously biting your bottom lip in thought.
You never used to think much about how you looked to others. It’s not that you didn’t care about your own body. You cared about hygiene, about a well-groomed appearance. But you had little to no concept of your own attractiveness.
Seeing that you hadn’t moved to obey his command, the Colonel shook his head with another tsk.
"C‘mere", he then said with a sigh, reaching out with his free hand and then grabbed your wrist as soon as you got up from your position, jerking you closer. You swallowed nervously, stumbling and lifting your other hand, bracing yourself against his chest. You blushed the moment you realized the sudden closeness and dropped your hand, trying to step away, but a firm hand on the backside of your thigh wouldn't let you.
"Humor me, cherry", he said, his hands running up and down your thighs, big enough to almost close entirely around them. "I didn’t recall you as being so shy when I’ve got all these photos from you. That was you, right?"
His hands moved up higher, his palms gliding over the soft swell of your ass, reaching for the zipper of your pencil skirt. All hair on your body stood up straight at the sound of your zipper being pulled down.
"Yes, sir", you breathed softly. The Colonel hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband of your skirt, slowly pulling the black fabric down and over your legs. He hums softly as his eyes catch sight of your lace panties, his thumb gently running over the fabric. For a second, your breath hitches and you think he would pull them down next, but then his hands move further up, apparently saving this part for the grand finale. Although they’re big and you expect his fingers to work rather clumsily with the extremely small buttons of your blouse, he opens them swiftly and with dexterity.
The slide down of your sleeves over your shoulders and arms is slow, almost sensually. You shiver once the cold air of the room hits your bare skin. You don’t even know when and how he had opened the clasp of your bra, and it’s only when he makes you lift your arms a little to get it off, that you realize you’re almost completely bare before him now.
The urge to cover your chest overcomes you suddenly, but his hands move faster, snatching your wrists to keep them at your sides. With a warning squeeze, he lets go of them then, in order to let them roam over your body, to admire what was hidden from his sight. Unblemished skin, perky nipples, the rapid rise and fall of your chest synced to your breathing, each one precious, finite. Quaritch’s hand is warm when it runs up your stomach to cup a breast, giving an experimental squeeze that makes you bite down on the inside of your cheek, hard, to stifle a whimper. You should feel shame, you think, as you arch against the warmth of his palm. His thumb brushes over a nipple and your breathing stutters, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips at that.
"This your first time, ain’t it?"
You swallow hard at the question, heart skittering in your chest, as you try to decide whether to put your focus on the feeling of his hand sliding down your waist or figuring out the answer to his questions.
With his other hand, the Colonel traces the outline of your tattoo, his gaze so intense and focused on the fine, red lines, that your breathing soon turns into shallow pants of air. You felt hot. Too hot, as you slowly become aware of the situation you were in.
His hand slides further down your side, along your hips, down to the backside of your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh. This time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper from escaping. Immediately, your hand comes up to cover your mouth. Quaritch smiles at that, wickedly amused. "You're not very good at hiding it. So twitchy and scared. Bit off a bit more than you could chew, hm?"
There came no response from you, besides the shakily exhale of a breath you didn’t realize you were even holding and the red flush of your face.
Quaritch chuckles softly and you feel your heart pounding in your chest, feel it pulsating between your legs.
"Are you into that kind of stuff? Did it get you wet?", he asks with the tilt of his head, "Got all hot and bothered giving me these polaroids?"
The sight of his half lidded eyes staring at you sends a thrill crackling down your spine, wild and breathless. Heat pools in your stomach in a way that you’ve never let yourself get so close to before, the very height of arousal. So different from all the times you had touched yourself.
"Let’s see…", Quaritch murmurs with a sharp grin, not even waiting for an answer as he adverts his gaze further down. And then, you feel his hands on your waist again, pulling at the soft fabric of your lace panties– down, down, down, until they pool at your ankles.
You can’t bring yourself to look at him, don’t want to see his face as he stares right at your most private parts. Too embarrassed, you just glance down on yourself, too.
"Oh, it did! Look at that", the Colonel exclaimed with a chuckle, and your eyes follow his, to where a wet patch had formed on your underwear. "You really are something, aren’t you? Got myself a little exhibitionist, huh?"
Words were still caught up in your throat, so all you could manage to do in place of a verbal response, was look back at him with a flustered face. He clearly meant to tease you, maybe even humiliate you, so why did his words turn you on so much? Your thighs almost automatically pressed together in desperate need for friction.
Quaritch’s hands are large and rough, fingers long and thick. Perfect and so incredibly warm against the skin of your lower abdomen as he slides a single digit between your thighs. His knuckle brushes against your clit, forcing a breathy moan through your lips as he drags his finger back and forth between your folds. His other hand goes tight around your hip, fingertips digging into your inked flesh in an effort to keep you right there, sensing how your knees begin to buckle just from a simple touch like this.
"You’re dripping", he coos, pulling his finger back up for you to see. "Look, that cute little pussy‘s getting wet so easily."
Nervously biting the inside of your cheek, you lock your eyes on his digits, glistening in arousal, and the sight makes more wetness pool between your thighs.
"Now show me", Quaritch all but orders, "Show me how you made these photos. I want to see you touch yourself for me, cherry."
The given nickname he used on you made you blush. The first time you head him use it, earlier, you thought you might have misheard. But now you finally realize that he had really called you that. Cherry. Clearly an innuendo to your tattoo.
Nodding, you step back until your heels touch the edge of your bed and then settle to sit right there. It felt strange, being watched like that. Quaritch leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable for the show that he was hoping you would soon put on for him.
With a shaking breath, you leaned back until you laid flat against the soft mattress. Angling your legs up, you can’t bring yourself to spread them right away. Instead, you close your eyes and imagine yourself alone in your room. It’s easier to get yourself in the mood without the thought of his eyes on your naked form, watching so intensely.
In your head, you try to remember what to do. It wasn’t like you haven’t already done this before, like you didn’t know how.
There was no denying that you liked to touch yourself, late at night when you were quite sure everyone was fast asleep. You‘ve always spent your days with your mind full to the brim with various theories, studies and seemingly endless responsibilities, so much so that you often found it difficult to empty your mind for sleep. Sometimes you would recite the na’vi names of plants to yourself in your head ("Panopyra, Pamtseowll, puríhsa..."), over and over, like counting sheep, trying to memorize their names. But some other times you simply preferred another method of relaxation.
So, it wasn’t like you didn’t know what to do. It was just, that this was the first time someone was there to watch you doing it, and it felt like your brain was close to a short circuit.
Swallowing down the nervousness as best as you could, you let your hands run down your curves, feeling the soft swell of your breasts, over your stomach and down between your legs.
As you part them, ever so slowly, you hear Quaritch groan in approval. Still, you try to ignore it, focusing on the warmth of your skin instead, feeling your own arousal as you glide two finger through your folds.
Instantly, there’s this sensation, hot and burning and you allow it to rise within your core — allow it, and welcome it.
The slick, wet feeling gives you a gratifying sense of accomplishment, fueling you to circle over your clit, gentle at first, but slowly adding more pressure over time. Your other hand clasps over your mouth, barely able to stifle a moan as the other finger that had been teasing your entrance slowly slips inside.
"Don’t you dare cover your mouth." The Colonels voice makes you clench, which causes you to inhale sharply. "I want to hear you."
It takes every ounce of confidence you had left in yourself, to finally pry your eyes open and look at him from your current position, while you slowly lowered the hand from your face.
Quaritch was still sitting there, on his seat across the bed, unmoving. His irises had turned into slits, reminding you of a cat when it’s hunting a mouse. A metaphor that couldn’t have been more fitting.
With his thighs spread and his hands lazily resting on top of them, you actually found it quite surprising that he wasn’t… touching himself, too. Deep down, you were probably hoping he would do so. Were even a tad disappointed that he didn’t.
You could clearly see the bulge under his tactical cargo pants, could only imagine the way his cock must throb underneath the restriction of the fabric, and your mouth begins to water as your minds eye provides you with vivid images of him in all his glory. You wondered what he might look like. Did the color match the rest of skin? Did he had stripes and freckles?
Breathlessly, you feel your head dip back further, as you recognize the heat slowly building, radiating from your core. Gyrating your hips, the feeling of wetness and pleasure builds within yourself, enough to make your hip buck up against your own hands.
"Wanna know what I’ve been wondering?", Quaritch asks and it takes you a second in the haze of your mind, to proceed what he had just said.
You nod, once.
"I‘ve been wondering what you were thinking about while taking all these dirty pictures for me."
You’ve never thought hearing someone’s voice would turn you on this much, but here you were, dipping your middle and ring fingers past your tight entrance, gently but firmly making their presence feel inside. They’re surrounded by that slick, growing warm feeling as you press them in further, just barely curling them up. It’s tight, too tight, you’re afraid you‘ll hurt yourself if you add another.
You hear him chuckle, low and deep, as you exhale shakily. Then his eyes travel lower, pointing to the space between your thighs, were two of your digits were now buried deep, "What were you thinking while you stuffed those pretty fingers into your cute little cunt, huh?"
It takes a few tries, the tension slips for a moment or two, but soon, you find the right angle to allow your slippery fingers to caress the spot you‘ve been seeking.
"You. I was…", you swallow thickly, "thinking about you."
"Bit more specific, cherry."
More pleasure begins to wash over you, not unlike waves washing ashore, as you build up the tension your body craves you to chase. His words clearly meant to tease, sent your heart a flutter, legs flexing and bending, hips pressing into the mattress, back arching as your head once again dips back and the ministrations of your fingers find a sensual rhythm.
You curl them up, dragging them along your soft, spongy walls and you moan, gasping and panting, "I was imagining what you would do with my photos. If– If you’d like them. Was thinking about you… jerking off to them, t-too."
"S‘that so?", the Colonel snickers. You hear the sound of fabric, rough hands running up and down muscular thighs, a chair creaking again, as if he repositioned himself. "Well, you’d be more than happy to hear that I did have a good time with these photos then."
Your toes curl tightly as you approach what might just be the state of bliss you‘ve been seeking. The verge of Nirvana, quite literally, at your fingertips. Inhaling sharply, you feel that pleasure intensify and spread throughout your entire body. Your toes curl tighter, though you’re only vaguely aware of it for a moment.
"F-Fuck", you gasp, fingers speeding up their pace, faint squelching sounds reaching your ears and distantly, you feel your own slick run down the curve of your ass, soaking the sheets below.
"Language", Quaritch hisses and your hips rise as if trying to chase the source of his voice.
"S-Sorry, sir", you all but moan, "It’s just- I‘m close, so close!"
"Yeah? You’re gonna make yourself come?"
You can only nod your head at that, face flushed and teeth biting into your lower lip to prevent yourself from moaning entirely too loud, embarrassing you further than you already were. God, you were a mess. You didn’t know if it was truly as humiliating as it felt, to be bought to the edge within minutes, just from touching yourself in his presence.
The sound of your whines and moans start to increase in volume the more pressure you put on your clit, moving a finger over that little bundle of pleasure in fast, tight circles.
You’re so close. So, so close. Almost there, just a little more. More. More. More. Right there—
But then the sound of a voice, a voice of sheer authority curses through your entire being, haltering your movements and slowing them down as if he had a firm grip on your wrist with his words alone.
"Didn’t recall giving you permission, though. Try again."
With a sound somewhere between a frustrated groan and a high pitched whine, you begin to chant pleas like they are prayers, "May I cum? May I please cum, sir? Please, please, please!"
You curve your finger a little more and pick up the pace again, thrusting them faster with every word, every plea, until tears begin to prick and the corner of your eyes and your back arches off the bed, twisting and trembling from holding it in. It was all heat and pleasure. All those sensations, thoughts and emotions. Everything so close, but you just couldn’t reach it. Not yet. You felt like a puppet on a string, waiting for him to pull the right thread and help you to your release.
You’re right on the edge, right there. Hell, you‘d been on edge for the last couple of months. The moment Miles Quaritch had entered your life, you had been on edge, and today might just be the day everything goes to hell.
"Good girl", Quaritch purrs, the sound coming from deep within his chest, so full of satisfaction as he finally granted you the permission to, "Go ahead then. Come for me, cherry."
The gasp hadn’t even fully left your throat and you were a little more than just a trembling, incoherent mess by the time you came, clamping down around your fingers and pushing them in as deep as they could physically reach.
The squelching sounds your orgasm coaxed out from between your thighs filled your own ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned by the sound of blood rushing to your head from holding your breath until the first wave of electricity shocked through every fibre of your being.
Then, the blissful sensations of sexual gratification engulfed you. You felt the pulse of your throbbing clit right underneath your fingertips, velvety-like walls tightening around your digits in pulsating waves, intensifying the sensation that dared to consume you whole.
For a timeless moment, there was nothing but pure, unadulterated bliss, with stars dancing behind your eyelids and a sound close to the static white noise of an old tv in your ears, before all your sensibilities gradually returned to you like a balloon gently floating back down to earth. Your whole body was buzzing in the afterglow of your orgasm, so intense it surprised you that this was all done by yourself. The internal buzzing seemed to be loud enough for you to overhear the distant sound of a door, your door, closing shut.
You didn’t even notice how tightly you had squeezed your eyes shut, until you slowly opened them again.
As your shaky, thrilled body slowly rises and you prop yourself up on your elbows, it finally clicks within your mind that you’re alone. You blink a few times, glancing at the empty seat in front of your bed.
He’s gone.
He had left, the man that was just there, the man that had been staring at you, watching you this entire time, like you were a sample in a laboratory for him to analyse, an experiment that he wasn’t sure turned out quite right. But his eyes, his eyes that were looking at you so intensely, had been… there had been something. There was something in them, a spark that you surely didn’t just imagined. Sometimes you couldn’t quite put a name on just yet.
Miles Quaritch may be an asshole, but he didn’t just play with you for the fun of it, watched you come undone in your room, on your bed, your safe space, with your legs spread wide like you would do that for just anyone and then leave.
But he did.
#recom miles quaritch#miles quaritch smut#miles quaritch x reader#miles quaritch#colonel miles quaritch#colonel miles quaritch x female reader#miles quaritch x reader smut#avatar miles quaritch#colonel quaritch#quaritch x you#na'vi quaritch#recom quaritch#quaritch smut#colonel quaritch x reader smut#quaritch x reader#quaritch x y/n#atwow quaritch#avatar quaritch#Avatar#avatar smut#avatar the way of water#atwow#atwow fanfiction#Avatar 2
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Hi again, @twistedstoryteller!
Okay, LU recs off the top-ish of my head in a sort of organized-ish order:
AUTHORS!
Angst, Action, and Mixed:
Faerule and the No Good Very Bad Road Trip by ImperialKatwala, PolynomialPandemic is a great "Chain Meets Hyrule" fic.
@gintrinsic-writing is phenomenal. A gem. I love all of it, but check the tags to find ones you're comfortable with. AO3 Blood Like Yours is my personal favorite, and the sequel Like Fire in Your Veins by @pocketramblr are both about Hyrule's Blood Curse from Adventures of Link. M for Violence for most of them, but check tags to be sure. If you like it, consider also...
Protector of the Golden Power by Sillus Hyrule centric but he has a different secret.
@somer-writes has a lot of great short one shots, some darker than others. My personal favorite is a sort of character study of the boys at their lowest and how they recover called "Depletion"
For a Sliver of Sunlight by tirsynni: Warrior's dedication to his brothers makes him question his title as Hero.
What are You to a God Slayer by Secretlysheikah BAMF Sky
Brethren in a Cradle by Skyward_Arpeggio BABY!!!! It is adorable, if a bit sad at the start.
Always Darkest Before the Dawn (Linked Universe Whumptober 2023) by Skyward_Arpeggio because in general they don't go above T ratings and write excellent fics.
this year it taught me (lost and ambitious) by qar Also EXCELLENT writer. "Sky has a separate moment with each member of the team"
Whumptober 2023 by Arecaceae Great fics! Plus, "Each story will have warnings in the tags and the story notes as well as a 0-5 whump rating. The ratings will be relative to my writing, so my 5 might not be equivalent to someone else's 5. I don't write MCD, extreme gore, non-con, or extreme emotional angst."
Major's Whumptober 2023 by major_de_speed Major's are also quite clean despite the M rating which is more about the violence.
Linkeduniverse Shorts by Skyward_Arpeggio LU Short fics
A Royal Castletown Wedding by Skyward_Arpeggio This story is so good!!!!!!!!!
Whumptober 2022 by Arecaceae more great fics, rated T.
LU Whump Dump by UnexpectedStormy (ArtemiStorm) need AO3 account to read, but worth it! Linked Universe Whumpy One-Shots, rated T.
There's one I'm missing, and when I find it I'll add it here. It involves a cursed magical artifact that Legend messes with... it's intense.
Fluffier Fics:
Frosty Reception by Skyward_Arpeggio "Four’s glad to finally be home again, and he’s not the only one happy at his return." Cute fic!
S’more Stories by Ginger375 "A collection of drabbles and mini-fics for LUtober! Day 31: Costumes"
Sentiment by Arecaceae
nine heroes, one spirit by Imjustherefortheangst, uncleskyrule (unclemoriarty) tons of great short fics, all with G-T ratings
Finding Family by Tashacee "AU where Wild's scars are a lot worse and he isn't used to interacting with people. The Chain think their new brother is dope af and are determined to make him feel at home."
My Heart's Forsaken Me by sister_dear "Four looses his sword in the heat of battle, and it's picked up by someone else... Time’s aren’t the only secrets coming to light, and the gang discovers they still have a thing or two to learn from each other."
Ambush at the Bridge by JinxedRuby Very action and healing oriented fic, multiple perspectives on one event.
Dark Clouds on the Horizon by CubanCracker62 "he Chain ends up in Wild's era shortly before the events of TotK."
There are worse ways to stay alive by EliotRosewater one shots rated T.
Crack Fics:
Misplaced Heroes by notOK this had me busting out laughing SO MANY TIMES!
Peak Gremlin Energy by defenestration_nation "Fics focusing on various Links being chaotic gremlins"
Not Necessarily LU, but Adjacent or just LoZ:
Blood of the Hero by Skye_the_Lofty_Nutcase: (Wild) Link's parents have to step in to save him when the Shrine of Resurrection gets damaged. His parents are so well written, and Abel makes appearances in LU-related/adjacent fics, The Many Misadventures of Dad Squad and Dad Squad AU by Nancyheart, Silver_Captain82403, Skye_the_Lofty_Nutcase
which is part crack and part angst, mostly lighthearted.
Don't Worry Man, I'm from the Yiga Clan: Link makes a Yiga friend due to being a delightful chaos gremlin.
Feature MCD... but might be worth it:
And Still the Cradle Blooms by Solistrix: GORGEOUS literary masterpiece. The writing is unreal. It's descriptions and emotions are incredible. This is more like finding the meaning in eventual death, so of the three here I suspect you'll like this one best as far as not being too hurt by the character's mentioned end.
This is an Adjuration: I'll be real, this is full of action and excitement but yes, it has MCD and is making me cry, but it's also REEEEAAALLY good!
Blood Drops on Roses by HotCheetohatred Fantastic storytelling! Wild centric, Twi is big brother but from day one of Wild's journey. Unreliable young Wild as narrator is an absolute delight. Unfinished, no MCD yet, but it's in the tags so no promises.
Modern AUs for not-big-on-modern-au fans:
As a fellow not-seeker of modern AUs, I personally have enjoyed the following
@skyward-floored Incredibles AU
Wild’s Wolf by HotCheetoHatred "Modern AU where young Wild is a feral forest child, raised by Wolf Twilight. He is captured, separated from Twilight, and put under observation. Time helps him escape." Unfinished, and I admit personal bias here because HotCheetoHatred is my BETA reader.
ARTISTS!!!
@ovegakart: amazing action, gut-busting humor, and captivating storytelling! Does comics
@la-sera: beautiful, ethereal, and gorgeous illustrations and a great storyteller, loves downfall duo but does every one of the boys justice
@dfanart: HILARIOUS and such heartfelt emotions on them boys.
@kikker-oma great art from fluff to whump to action
@1caru has so many fluffy LU gems!
@linderosse has a Zelda's meet AU, does LU, and much more!
@lele5429 great illustrations and abstract pieces of LU fanart.
@theecholegend hahaha... arson.
@ikaishere has so many cute LU ones.
@thepinklink fabulous LU character sketches
@hiimgin BIAS! I got to work with them and they are FABULOUS!
@pluviatrix has art for their fic And Still the Cradle Blooms
@cherrypaii has fantastic illustrations of these boys!
AND MANY, MANY MORE!
(Commenters, please add artists I forgot. I know there are a ton Im missing!!)
Hope this helps you feel welcome!
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Surviving a D&D AU
The world is filled with twists and turns, and you can easily find youself with unfavorable outcomes. That being said, you meet someone to help ease the worries and woes of the harsh world.
CW: SFW, gn!reader, some fighting, light cursing in Kid's, headcanons + drabbles
Zoro, Robin, Nami, Law, Kid, Ace
A/N: I added a lot of links to the races I headcanoned them as, so if you are interested in learning about them, you can! :)
I tried not to make each drabble super long. I sincerely hope y'all like it!!!
Zoro: goliath (barbarian): Goliaths are known nomads who don't build trust and friendships easily. They specialize in athletics and have a very determined nature; that being to earn their place in the tribe or die trying. Despite him not being as harsh as the goliaths, he still very much values 'pulling your weight' and would adhere to their 'fair play'.
Climbing the rocky terrain was proving to be more than you were physically capable of. The injury you'd got from the earlier ambush was worsening. In spite of just reaching the top of the mountain, you felt no relief. There were still many more obsticals to overcome if you were going to find a place to set up camp before nightfall.
Trekking forward, you heard branches snapping in the distance. Quickly ducking behind a fallen tree, you observed those approaching―ready to attack if necessary. One of them broke away from the group. As his foot steps grew nearer, you gripped your weapon tightly. The crunch of his path halted right before the tree you were crouching behind. Hesitation could mean death, so acting on impulse, you sprang over the bark, and swung your weapon down on your anticipated enemy.
Acting on instinct, however, your opponent easily blocked your blow. Shoving you to the ground, he only showed annoyance and inconvenience. Despite this, you lurched at him again. However, this time your physical ailment would prove to be a hinderence. You winced from the pain, but showed no sign of letting up.
Taking notice in your perserverance, he grapped your weapon this time and pulled you in for a closer look. Studying your face, the dedication you had to survive was piercing. Then he examined your leg and told you that you were in need of immediate medical attention.
Without having a minute to process this, he swooped you up and over his shoulder. Even though you were clearly flustered and shaken from his sudden behavior, he calmly told you that they had medics who could help you.
When reaching the medical tent, he eased you off his shoulder, still ignoring your many protests to having done it in the first place. Your wild nature wasn't wearing him down, though. In fact, he liked when others, especially ones of different races, were filled with passion and the will to, not only live, but to survive.
Although he was staring at you with such intensity, you weren't going to let that stop you from tearing into him. He was irritated by your lack of gratitude, sure, but he liked seeing how lively you were, even with a hurt leg.
"You can't go out in this weater," ignoring your frustration.
"And why not?"
His eye twitched at your relentlessness, "Because there's going to be a storm rolling in soon. You won't be able to find shelter soon enough."
Feeling a bit rediculous now, you asked what he'd suggest.
"You should stay in our village until it passes."
"How long is that going to be?"
Thinking it over, he told you, "At least a week."
Robin: shadar-kai (fighter/paladin): Robin has always had prestine perception abilities. Her class would favor her in battle, continuing to let her be quick and limber in combat. As for her race, I believe the Blessing of the Raven Queen would serve as a good substitute for her Devil's Fruit abilities by letting her swiftly approach and evade enemies with the added ability of the misty step.
You had lost your way to the tavern you were supposed to be rendezvousing with the other group members. It was already dark, and the streets were poorly lit. The cobble stoned streets were still slick from that afternoon's rainfall and panic was starting to set in.
Each building seemed to have no difference between the others. The rows of rooftops and stone walls all merged together, causing you to feel faint and dizzy. Being as out of sorts as you were, you failed to notice a group of goblins approaching you. They were cackling about their most recent tussle, but with you stumbling about the street, they couldn't help shifting their attention to you.
"Oi, oi! What's up with you now? Shaking in your boots, are you?" One mocked.
You didn't respond and instead tried to focus on keeping your footing.
"You look like you might got some nice trinkets on you, don't you lot think?" Another commented. "Why don't you just hand over what you got and we'll let you off easy, yeah?"
Backing away from them, you were hesitant to fight, but you knew you'd have to seeing as you didn't actually have much on you. However, you felt a wisp of air rush past you and the goblins had suddenly been knocked back. Groans from them rose as they struggled to get back on their feet.
Standing before you was a hooded figure with a shortsword. When the agressors finally came back around, the stranger promptly warned them to return where they came from and not to cause any more trouble. One of the goblins snorted at this but was then met with the tip of her blade pressed againt their chest. She'd appeared before him so quickly that it put the group of them in a state of shock―momentarily paralized from fear. Analyzing the situation, they begrudgingly agreed to leave you alone.
After making sure they wouldn't turn back around, the stranger glanced back at you, "Are you alright?"
You were still sat on the ground, in awe of your savior's grace and kindness. Nodding in response, she offered you a hand.
"What are you doing out here all by yourself?"
After explaining your perdicimate, she began, "That's quite a way from where we are now." Your face felt hot from the sheer embarrassment of it all, but she suggested accompaning you there. Of course, you wanted to repay the favor in anyway you could but she wouldn't accept any. Instead reassuring, "Knowing those goblins won't pick on you again will be thanks enough."
Nami: high elf (rogue): Even though the Tabaxi race was a close second, I believe high elves suit Nami more. Despite their holier than you attitudes, they have a strong sense of cultural pride and kindness. Nami doesn't always give the best first impressions, but she cares deeply about others' safety. Her being a rogue is self-explanitory as she'll be able to trick enemies out of great fortunes.
Wandering around the market, you eyed the plentiful fruit, vegetables, bread, and sweets that lined the streets. Today's haul would be enough to tide you over for at least a week. Practically drooling, you snapped back to reality when you saw one of the vendors step away from their booth. Taking your chance, you were mindful of your pace. Approaching the table, you pretended to be contemplating what to buy. The man's back was still facing you, so you snatched a loaf of bread.
Before shoving it into your bag, an old woman, who'd been sitting in the back corner, shouted "Thief!" Dropping the bread, you hastily looked around. You knew the consequences of stealing but life had presented you with no other choice.
Turning to run, you instantly bumped into a tall woman, causing you to stumble back a few steps. She peered down at you, seemingly judging you harshly.
The old man was now on top of you and ready to flag down the authorities. However, a soft, even voice questioned, "What's the problem here?"
The husband and wife shouted that that thief must be dealt with properly.
She grinned at them and said that there must be some misunderstanding, "They're actually a friend of mine. I'm sure they were just grabbing the bread to have me permit purchasing it. We'll gladly pay for it now."
Neither of them were particularly happy with this, seeing as they were going to hold a grudge against you. Nevertheless, they accepted payment and let you go.
When you distanced yourself enough from the vendors, you asked her why she did that.
"No one should have to go hungry." Shooting you a cheeky smile, she lifted her cloak, "Plus, I swipped more than enough to break even on that bread."
Eager to quench your hunger, you reached out for the abundent of food she'd stolen. She pulled back, though and now that gleeful look turned into a solemn one, "I'll only let you have it if you promise to be more careful."
Once accepting these terms, she gladly handed the food over to you. "Don't you have anyone to help you get out of trouble?"
Shaking your head, you prefered not to go into details. Inspite of this, the pain you were carrying was more than apparent.
She sighed, "I guess you leave me no choice but to teach you how to be a proper rogue."
Law: Dark elf (sorcerer): Dark elves tend to lean more towards chaotic and lawful evil, however, that's not always the case. Depite this race being deemed as such, I could see Law renouncing Lolth and following the teachings of Eilistraee. This would be a great parallel to his story in OP. In terms of class, being a sorcerer would allow him healing abilities, not just aiding in combat.
Journeying into a cave wasn't your idea of scouting for a treasure map, but you were outvoted by the rest of your group. Sulking about how dark and cramped it was, you hadn't realized there was a short drop coming up.
Letting out a yelp, you landed on your wrist. Turning over in agony, you dreaded the reality―breaking it. Shakily bringing your other hand to it, you flinched and cried out in pain. Cursing obsenitites at your group, but especially at that damn ledge.
After taking a few minutes to catch your breath, you rolled over to ease yourself up. Your torch had fallen to the side, still lit but quickly dying out. You clumsily jerked towards it, accidentally kicking dirt on it, putting it out. Numerous f-bombs were dropped as you fumbled around in your pockets in search of a match.
But then you fell silent. There were footsteps echoing throughout the cave. You attempted to silence your whimpers of fear of what was looming towards you. Surely, it was something venemous and undoubtedly carnivorous, as well. Feeling helpless in your current state, you tried to prepare for combat regardless.
Bringing your dagger out of its holder, you waited till the moment to pounce was right. The last step seemed to be right up on you, so without hesitation you lunged at the unknown threat. However, you had sadly misjudged them. You hadn't had enough time to consider the, very likely, possibility that they had nightvision.
This dawns on you far too late, and instead of plunging your weapon into them, they easily evaded your attack, which made you fall face first into the dishevelled soil. Scrambling to get your bearings, you lunged at them again, only this time you made contact with the moistened rocks.
"Can you stop that?" A male voice came from behind you, clearly annoyed by your anticts.
Slashing at the air, you retorted, "What're you up to? What do you want from me?"
"I was passing through and you attacked me," now exasperated beyond belief.
"Where are you? Show yourself!"
Knowing he wasn't going to talk sense into you if you were quite literally left in the dark about him, he kneeled down and lit your torch for you.
Your eyes winced at its flame and adjusted as they laid on the stranger holding it out for you to take. Even though you demanded for him to show himself, you wouldn't have guessed for him to be a dark elf.
The uncertainty and distrust you had for him was written all over your face. Rolling his eyes at you he foreced the torch into your hand, unfortunately choosing the one that was broken. Seething from the rush of agony, it was dropped on the cave floor. Not having seen that you were injured, he swiftly motioned his hand over your wrist.
You backed away, thinking that he was about to cast a curse, but you went against your better judgement, not shying away entirely. There was a flash of light, alleviating any discomfort you were in. Blinking at the formerly bruised area, you gawked at him in wonder.
This made him regret taking this path, and he wished you good luck before turning to leave.
"Wait!"
He raised an eyebrow at you.
"Could you...help me find something? Please?"
Kid: half-orc (barbarian): half-orcs, similar to full-blooded ones, feel emotions more intensely than humans. Their personalities tend to be more bold and they take action more quickly. Action (usually in the form of fists) is the prefered method to resolving problems, which is why I thought this suited Kid nicely. Not to mention, they have proficiency in intimidation.
How much longer till you arrived at the tavern? It felt like you'd been walking for hours. When you finally laid eyes on that universally beat up sign, you could hardly contain your excitement. You sprinted the rest of the way, completely ignoring how sore your legs were. With that in mind, your legs buckled under you right as you pushed open the door―a loud crash and enraged shouting followed shortly after.
"What the hell was that for?" The fiery haired half-orc shot out of his seat and gripped the elf's collar.
"It wasn't my fault! That..." but before he could point you out, the agressor slammed his fist into the elf's face, swiftly knocking him out.
The furious red-head was still looking for a fight, and anyone who made eye contact was next in line to be pummled. In this case, you decided your best option was to play dead.
"You, what's your problem? Get off the damn floor, you idiot!" Although you were lying face down on the floor, you knew that it was directed at you. Carefully, you got up but refrained from having your gaze meet his.
"Sorry," you began, "I suppose I was overwhelmed by your inate strength and fainted."
You could feel the onlookers staring, their eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.
Finally, he let out a booming laugh, "Ha! How rediculous! I do have that effect on some, now that I think of it." Loosing sight of how he was riled up earlier, your compliment made him change gears.
Now that you were able to avoid turning black and blue, you debated whether or not to find another tavern. However, you heard him call to the barkeep, "Get us another round for the table! Oh, and throw in an extra for the one who's weak in the knees!" The request was followed by yet another series of laughter from him and now his friends.
You weren't going to be able to leave now, as doing so would mean setting off that ticking time bomb of a temper of his. Turning around, you attempted to be as happy as ever.
Going towards the table, he points out, "You look like shit by the way! What the hell did you get into?"
Ace: tiefling (sorcerer): Despite their scary appearance, many tieflings are not quick to solve conflict with force. They do not trust easily, however, they are extremely loyal and will move heaven and earth to protect those they care about. Ace has shown similar qualities what with his devotion to White Beard and his brothers. He could relate to how the tieflings are looked at: with distrust, suspicion, and hatred.
You'd crashed your boat into the rocks off the coast during a terrible storm, which now left you washed up on the beach and unconscious. You faintly remember voices over you, but you couldn't make out what was being said. You could barely feel someone gently lifting you, carrying you somewhere you could not protest to.
Upon wakening, you saw that your injuries had been tended to and you'd been given an IV. A disagreement seemed to be unfolding outside of the room, so you did your best to comprehend their exchanges. The door opened though, startling you.
You forced your eyes shut again, hoping your nerves wouldn't give you away. You sensed that their presence was just at the foot of your bed. Not being able to resist the temptation, you lifted your eyelids to see a horned figure staring back at you. Unable to hold back your surprise, your eyes widened and dread sunk in.
He must have picked up on this as his face fell slightly, "You seem better." Nodding at you, he motioned away.
"Did you save me?"
Glaring at you, mostly out of anticipation of the trechory you would inevitably pull, he simply gave you a, "I did."
Before he rushed off you were sure to tell him, "T-thank you! I'm so grateful."
The sincerity behind your words stung, but he still appreciated your gratitude.
Luckily, your wounds weren't too serious and you were healthy enough to leave the following week. You wanted to give him another thank you before you went off again on your own, but he was nowhere to be found.
Searching the halls, you heard a ruckus just outside of the hospital's gates. There was a group of humans demanding to be treated, but were being refused entry by your horned savior. You could see where things were heading, so you rushed to join them.
"Why won't you treat us? Can't you see we have someone who's gravely ill here?"
"You're carrying weapons that are forbidden to be taken past the gates and you're blatently refusing to hand them over."
"Well, forgive us if we're not so quick to trust you lot."
"How dare you demand treatment when you're so quick to cast judgement and spew hatred!" His hands started glowing a vibrant red which were then ignited into flames.
Thankfully, you showed up just in time to help ease the tension. Cutting between the both of them, you helped to explain that the rules aren't discriminatory and even the tieflings must adhere to them. You reminded the humans that their friend was in dire need of medical assistance, and they wouldn't be able to afford to prolong his treat for much longer.
This brought them back to the reason why they were there. They apologized, even if it was said behind gritted teeth, and willingly gave up their weapons.
As the group found their way inside, you looked at the horned man fondly. Impressed by your willingness to step in during the heat of an argument earned you a bit of his trust, and he returned your fond gaze.
#one piece#portgas d ace x reader#ace x you#ace x reader#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#kid x reader#kid x you#law x reader#law trafalgar#trafalgar law#trafalgar d. water law#trafalgar d law x reader#cat burglar nami#nami x reader#nico robin#nico robin x reader#nami x you#nico robin x you#one piece imagine#x reader
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Hi can you write a HC with Astarion and Blood Hunter Tav/Durge? I love your HC and look forward to it every time I read a new one
Blood Hunters are the monster to fight monsters. They use the profane blood magic to fight the most unspeakable creatures of the dark. Basically, the chance to play the edgiest character possible to freak out other D&D players.
Far from the judging eyes of society, blood hunters have mastered the secretive techniques of hemocraft, finding blood magic’s esoteric nature effective against evils that resist divine rebuke or arcane bindings. Through careful study and practice, blood hunters hone the rites of hemocraft into unique combat techniques, forfeiting a portion of their own health to call blood curses down upon their enemies or summon the elements to aid their strikes. Willing to suffer whatever it takes to achieve victory, these adept warriors have forged themselves into a potent force dedicated to protecting the innocent.
MORE INFO
Blood Hunter isn't an official D&D class and was created by Matt Mercer for Critical Role
TW: very angsty
Astarion x Blood Hunter!Tav
Masterlist
Headcanons
It's not like you aren't fond of the undead.
You hate them.
Ghosts, monsters, demons, name it yourself.
You are edgy as fuck and people usually assume you need psychological intervention because you cut your wrists to perform the rites.
You love being in pain and inflicting pain on others.
Many years ago you were sold to your Brothers and put through the Hunter's Bane.
Few survive the ritual, but you were one of them.
It changed you forever - your facial features, your eyes, your hair color, your body.
You don't admit it but you still mourn the life you could have lived if only your own parents hadn't given you to the brotherhood.
You draw your own blood to create curses. You cut your hands to create a Blood Dagger and kill your enemies with it.
To be able to use your cursed magic, you have to drink the most disgusting potions that ever existed.
And you hate monsters.
Period.
And let's say you aren't really fond of someone drinking your blood.
Besides, vampires are monsters, and everyone knows what to do with them.
But you are a practical person. You better have a vampire of your own.
Together you form a deadly couple. Your blood gives Astarion unique abilities.
But with time your alliance becomes something else.
You see him as a victim. A monster against his will.
There is a thought in your mind but you don't give it too much attention.
You ask Astarion to kill the spawns and let the siblings live.
You are the Blood Hunter. You know too well what it means to release 7000 deranged souls into the wild.
And you warn the siblings to keep a low profile. Or you will come after them.
Cruel? Yes. But who said Blood Hunters are good people?
You definitely aren't good.
Post-game, you know you have to return home. There are too many monsters to fight.
But there is one more thing you need to take care of.
Blood is always the answer. Blood is what makes this world exist.
You can ressurect Astarion. You can make him mortal.
You find the way but there is a price.
If Astarion becomes mortal, he has to join the brotherhood.
It means getting through the Hunter's Bane, which can kill him.
And which will change his appearance - not anything awful but he will look a bit different.
It's not a price you would like him to pay but it's up for Astarion to decide.
He refuses.
"I don't want to become anything else" He says.
You try to persuade him. You beg him. You use all the arguments.
Including the most painful one - if he refuses, you won't stay together.
But you know he won't change his mind.
Astarion cherishes his freedom. He won't lose it again. And he doesn't want to be in debt.
Maybe it's you who should forsake the hemocrafting? And abandon the Brotherhood?
And change your views on the world.
No, it won't work. You are too different.
Astarion leaves once the sun sets.
Now you have one more thing to mourn.
The love you could have got.
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96
#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#astarion romance#bg3#astarion bg3#astarion headcanon#baldurs gate 3#astarion headcanons#astarion x tav#astarion x f!tav#tav x astarion#spacebarbarian headcanon#astarion x reader#dnd#baldurs gate astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion baldurs gate#astarion brainrot#astarion fanfic#astarion fanfiction#astarion fluff#astarion imagine#astarion x female reader#baldur's gate tav#dnd bloodhunter#critical role#blood hunter tav
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Obsessesive
Professor! Seokjin x Reader
Masterlist
"Now, just because I am giving you a worksheet does not mean that you are allowed to make noise. You can talk to each other regarding the work but do it quietly." Your college professor says, stepping away from the podium to reach his desk.
Sitting down comfortably and readjusting his glasses, Kim Seokjin took a look over his class of 70 students.
The guys at the back were busy on their phones and the girls at the front were pretending to focus on their work while sneaking glances at their young teacher and whispering among themselves, probably about how hot he looked when 'ordering' them
The thought made Seokjin smirk.Regardless he sent a look to those girls to focus on the work assigned instead of him.Looking over to the middle of the room, he saw his dedicated students who were interested in his lectures rather than his face. A smile took over his face while admiring them doing their work.
Seokjin then looked over to the left corner to see his favourite student. His smile kept on increasing at the sight.
You had put one of your elbows on the table, your squishy cheek pressed against your knuckles, headphones in your ears, as you quietly did your work.
It wasn't like you had no friends. You just prefered to work alone. Seokjin liked that about you. He liked everything about you. You were always loud, walking and running around the campus with your friends, always giggling and laughing, but when it came to your studies,you remained silent in your classes and focused on the teacher. This motivated your friends to focus in classes as well. What an angel my sweetie is.
You were on top of the class, and still helped everyone. He had seen you so many times in the courtyard, explaining concepts to not only your classmates, but also your juniors. His heart was filled with pride, watching you.
Mine. All mine.
Seokjin took a walk around the classroom, to see how far everyone had gone with his work and to help someone if they needed it. You, of course were ahead of everyone, yet he still asked if you needed any help.
"Do you need any help, miss Y/N?"
"No sir, I'm fine thank you."
"Alright, if you need any help, just raise your hand."
"Okay sir."
Although it was for a short moment, Seokjin loved it when all your attention was on him. He loved it the way you called him 'sir'. Your soft, delicate voice.
Will it still be that soft when you'll scream his name whilst underneath him?
He tried to hide his smile that was building up, to stop his dirty thoughts and to control his wild imaginations about his doll. You bad girl, you will surely get a punishment when I will have you.
"Look! Mr. Kim has that creepy smile again after talking to you." Your friend whispered in your ear as you glanced at the said man.
"I know right!Why doesn't he get the hint that I will ask him when I have a problem?This is the fourth time this week! He's honestly so creepy."You whispered.
You honestly wanted to shift to another class, but he was a great teacher. Also it's not like the college admins will believe if your teacher is creepy. He hasn't done anything like this before, nor has he touched you or anything. You had no proof.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Do you need a ride back home, Y/N?"
You looked up from your phone to see Mr. Kim in his bright red tesla.
Great. The more I try to avoid him, the more I have to deal with him.
You plastered a huge fake smile on your face before saying,
"Oh! It's alright Mr. Kim, the bus will be coming soon!"
"Don't worry dear, I'll drop you off at home. A pretty thing like you shouldn't be travelling in a bus."
You belong in my mansion, staying pretty, just like the doll you are.
You were creeped out by his statement of you being a 'pretty thing'.Aa if you were an object.
Pretending that you were getting a call,you placed your phone near your ear and said 'Hello' . Bowing down to your teacher, you walked away with your bag.It was the only thing you could think of to get out of the situation.
After walking a considerable distance, you removed your phone from your ear before looking back to see if your teacher's car was in sight.
Seeing the red car out of the way, you sighed in relief. Turning around, you bumped into a rock hard chest.
Moving your head up to apologize , you were shocked to see the man you had just run away from.
He no longer had a smile on his face, rather a very cold look, as if he was incredibly angry. It was the look he gave to those annoying girls in class when they kept asking him unnecessary questions. It was the look he gave to the guys at the back who did not do their work.
It was a look that said 'If you get on my nerves one more time, I will not hesitate to punish you'.
You were left as a stuttering mess before him.
"Mr. Kim.. I… you.."
He put a finger to his lips, signaling you to quiet down.He was breathing heavily as if trying to tone down his anger.
Why was he so angry?
He gripped your arm tightly, pulling you along to his car. You tried prying his hands off of you,but he was too strong.You had to resort to hitting him on his shoulder to which he pulled you closer to him, caressing your face before whispering.
"You'll get a punishment if you misbehave angel. Be a good girl. Mr Kim doesn't like bad girls."
You shivered and kept quiet.Mr Kim drove you to his luxurious apartment.He made you sit down on the couch, forcefully fed you your favourite food and made you drink orange juice. You were scared and crying but still did whatever he wanted. Maybe if you obey, he will let you go home.
You began feeling dizzy. He must have spiked the juice.
Your eyes soon began to close. You couldn't help it.Before completely passing out, you heard your captor speak.
"If you had agreed to come with me first, I would have dropped you at your home. But you were being a stubborn brat and made me angry. See angel? Your actions have consequences."
A tear escaped from your eyes.
"Now, live with me and be my doll. Let me worship and love you."
He gave you a kiss on your forehead, before picking you up and heading to his room.
A/N
Feel free to request any scenarios! I love reading and writing yandere🥰
#yanderecore#yandere oneshot#bts yandere#yandere jin x reader#jin#bts oneshots#idol singer#yandere au#x reader#professor x#teacher au#obsessive tendencies
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The Winner Takes It All
Episode 10
Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader
Chapter Warnings: more death, more canon typical violence, some bonding between allies because they gotta survive this bitch as long as they can...
Chapter Summary: Danger lies in places you least expect it. Whether that be in the form of a small animal, or in a harmless capitol citizen. No one is safe from anything in the hunger games.
Word Count: 3.2k
howdy ho, pls excuse my laziness as of lately and enjoy some daily updates (i am not lazy i swear i have been launching a literal fashion brand ToT)
He snapped out of his trance when he heard the tail end of a half whispered conversation behind him.
“I imagine with her it would be marvelous, she certainly has the stamina,” one of the men behind him chuckled, the one on his left nodding in agreement before slamming back his drink. “Not to mention the flexibility.”
Finnick was restless, watching the screen, as usual.
He’d only gone into the viewing party to stir some chatter, enough to get a sponsor, but then he’d been back on his couch, Mags close by in a chair that was far too large for a sweet little old woman such as herself. She did not care to move, either.
It hurt her, to know that all this work, all this dedication, and all this commitment to the girl that came here from four might be in vain. But she kept a smile of optimism on her face for him, because she hadn’t seen him care so much about something in a long time. He had almost been numbed to these occasions, dulled to their effects. She held onto the same sliver of hope that he had been clinging to, praying that he would not be crushed if she were to lose. She couldn’t bear to watch him go through something like that again. The first time being when he watched the girl from his district die in the arena beside him. They trained together, they were allies together, and they had known each other before the reaping. Just like you and Lukas.
Lukas, the dear boy with the longing for a loving mother. Mags hoped she gave him a taste of what it was like, to have someone wrap their arms around you and to be proud of you without any cause or reason. Lukas needed that. Lukas needed a lot of things. She hated the rules of these games, hated the games more than anything. That boy deserves to live, deserves to finally be shown respect from the one person he craves the most… but Finnick’s girl. One who also deserves to live, to come home and to let Finnick hold you in his arms. Mags would never bring it up to him, but she knows the glint in his eye is more than just the protection of a mentor. The look of genuine fear when he feels his prized girl may be in danger is not just one of sympathy for another tribute. He’s latched onto this one, she can feel it. She only hopes that when the time comes for one of them to die, that she will not have to face the streams of tears… her own or Finnicks.
She watches him, the way he studies your every movement when the screen returns to the career pack, now depleted to three careers and a district seven tribute. A wild bunch they are, but hopefully the game makers will not overestimate their abilities. Lukas may have killed one tribute already, but Mercedes hasn’t. Mags doesn’t think she even could if she tried to. She knows that Finnick thinks the same thing.
His smile when he leans forward is sweet, seeing her open the note she had crumpled into her pocket. She mirrors his smile on the other side of the camera, not even realizing it. His heart melts as she reads it, and rereads it, and then once more. She’s clinging to it, holding onto that little piece of paper. It’s the only communication she can get from him on the inside of this damned arena.
-
“We should save those, we need to be using this time to gather other sources of food before more tributes come back to the cornucopia.”
Lukas was taking the lead again, and for good reason. There was little debate when it came to who was pulling the strings of this makeshift operation. He’d been the most confident with his survival knowledge, although he lacked in combat from the other careers.
“He’s right, by tomorrow, the last tributes are going to try and find us. It’s best we stock up everything we’re going to need before that happens,” Lyra said, throwing on one of the backpacks, one of the smaller ones full of Kunai knives and hunting lures.
“I w-wove this last night, it’s n-not standard, but it should w-work,” you held up to Lukas the fishing net you’d conjured before you’d gotten so tired the night before. It was far smaller than what he was used to, but it would work nonetheless.
“It’s perfect,” he smiled, packing it up into another backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he nodded his head towards the trail ahead.
You all were going to need to find a river, but luckily for you, Rodey had claimed to see one earlier yesterday, when you were all barely limping back to the cornucopia.
He was doing really well this morning, probably on account of the sponsor he’d gotten. A new pair of shoes to replace the ones that were torn to bits from running yesterday. His blisters were killing him until those new shoes arrived. Now he was chipper as ever.
“It was a bit further out, had a waterfall behind it…” he trailed, leading you all in a twisting and turning hike through the foggy forest of vines and trees that were tall enough to be skyscrapers.
The scenery was something out of an old adventure book, something of an era you wished was alive today. Something where the hero gets the girl, and the danger comes to an end. You don’t see that happening at the conclusion of your story. You see your picture in the sky and the boom of cannonfire, ringing out in your ears before it all goes dark. You just hope it won’t be too horrible, too violent or too messy.
By the time you reached the river, which was barely even a river, you went to the edge to stand by Lukas. You looked out to the waterfall that was sitting at the edge of the river bank, creating the endless flow. It was pretty, or it would be, under different circumstances. The other two of the group had taken off, finding bushes full of Echinacea flowers, and started harvesting those in case of any possible infections occurring in the future.
“W-what do I need to do?” You asked the boy next to you, helping him take the net out of the backpack and unfold it enough that it will work to catch.
“Not much. Can you stand in this shallow part over here?”
You used his help to step down into the water, the surface level barely reaching your hips. The coolness drenching your clothes was a nice contrast to the constantly warm and overly humid environment. You’d been feeling sticky and gross for the past two days, and this was like a little bath of sorts. It rid you of that nasty feeling, and for once, you were happy to be standing in water.
“You’re good?”
“Yeah, I’m g-good.”
He nodded, hopping in as well and handing you one end of the net, beginning to walk over towards the further side of the small river. It was far deeper on his side, but it didn’t deter him. He kept steady, opening the net and allowing it to start blocking the flow of anything swimming through. There weren’t many fish in the water, so it would take a minute of waiting.
Meanwhile, Lyra and Rodey had stuffed their pockets full of the flowers and other plants that may be useful to them.
“So, Mercedes,” Lyra began, looking towards the riverbank and seeing you splash your hair into the water. She found it amusing, considering she heard one of the boys comment about her lack of swimming abilities. Maybe they’d been joking. She was from four, so it didn’t quite make sense.
“What about her?” Rodey’s brows strewn with confusion, he turned to face Lyra completely, setting his backpack down for a moment to sit and rest. It had been a longer journey than expected to get here.
“You call her Mercy, right?” She asked, and he nodded in return. What was she getting at? He didn’t care to interject yet. “Do you think…?”
“Do I think what?”
She sighed, looking once more to yourself and Lukas, before settling her eyes on Rodey.
“Do you think she’s actually merciful? I have to think she’d kill either of us if she had to, but something tells me she’s not so sure of herself… She’s strong, man… she’s really strong. But she doesn’t exert it. When she fought me in training, it’s like she didn’t care if she won or lost.”
Rodey’s eyes found your smile by the riverbank, something sweet and warm and full of life, the exact opposite of what these games are supposed to be. You contradicted the meaning the capitol gave them, and he wondered if that would be in more ways than one.
“She hasn’t killed anyone yet. I think when the time comes she’ll do what she has to, but until then, I wouldn’t bet on it being either of us.”
Lyra nodded, seemingly having the same thought. Rodey likes you, he wasn’t going to say something about you that could get you killed before you had to be. That’s the game, but for as long as he can he wants to take a page out of your book, avoiding the rules.
-
Finnick was standing as straight and tall as he could, his confidence on the outside rivaling that which had been seen for years. The side of him that people knew and loved. His cocky gestures and snarky remarks, the slight arrogance and acceptance of man worship at his feet. It had always been a facade, but it was harder to wear recently. Now he did his best to show that he was back, his original self was on display for everyone to see.
He’d taken the day to become a little more serious about sponsors. So far, there was only one need of a Capitol gift, but as the last days roll around, he knows that he needs to start racking up the funds. You and Lukas have dwindling supplies, and soon, he’s sure the game makers will be using that against you.
Mags never felt herself useful for this sort of thing, she always sat quietly in the corner and tried to simply read the room, giving tips to Finnick if he needed them. She was so thankful to have him by her side. He was so much better at being the talkative presence in these Capitol functions. Especially ones that had so much riding on them. Today, yours and Lukas’ lives. Next year, another pair of tributes who will need the same supplies, sponsors, and supporters. It was a crucial part of the games, and now more than ever, Finnick sought after these wealthy citizen’s personal assistance.
He’d taken a break from circling for a moment, standing before the screen, watching you help Lukas with the fishing net. The water was shallow enough to stand in, and you seemed to be doing alright, the current of the stream not pulling or pushing you in any which direction. You’d even dunked your hair into the water, bringing some relief to your body, having thoroughly been exposed to the heat and humidity of this rainforest. Even though it rained often, it was still warm and humid.
You’d whipped your hair back over your head, splashing Lukas in the face. He playfully scooped a hand into the water and threw it up in your direction, and you laughed with a wide smile.
You were so beautiful, your smile was stunning. He was momentarily frozen in wonder… awestruck wonder. Like a moment where you gaze upon a magnificent sunset or a calming scene of nature. Something that you have to sit and admire for a second, because damn… you didn’t think anything could be so lovely without even trying.
He snapped out of his trance when he heard the tail end of a half whispered conversation behind him.
“I imagine with her it would be marvelous, she certainly has the stamina,” one of the men behind him chuckled, the one on his left nodding in agreement before slamming back his drink. “Not to mention the flexibility.”
Finnick turned on his heels, staring down the gentleman’s face, and acting as though he didn’t know what was going on.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” He played, tilting his head to entice some sort of response.
“Oh, nothing. We were just talking about how agile and athletic your tributes are. You must be very proud.”
“I am, and I’m going to do everything I can to keep bad things from happening to them,” he said with a sarcastic tone on the last bit. He knew that with the look he shot the man to speak, they would consider another topic of conversation.
Finnick only turned back around when they moved on to talk about other tributes.
What he’d heard pretty much cemented in stone what he already thought to be true. If you made it out of that arena, you’d be doomed to a life the same as him. Being called into the Capitol for nightly visits until they grow tired of you. It took finnick five whole years to become old news… he can’t even imagine how loved you would be for many years beyond that. You’d somehow charmed him without even trying, and here he was on a mission to save your life because of it. He couldn’t fathom how anyone could grow tired of you. There’s no other tribute, past, present, or even future that has a chance of beating you in sweetness and beauty. There’s no other tribute who has your compassion, your mercy… as much as he hated that nickname for you, he now found himself clinging to it in hopes of repeating it back to you.
The people around him continue to speak of you, and he knows that his selfishness will use it to his advantage. Your life out of the arena would be filled with comments like these, and the repercussions of them, the work and practical slavery of them, not one ever being your fault. But even through all of it, he still wants you to live. He wants you to come home and have a house across from his and beside Mags’. He wants to keep giving you swimming lessons until you feel confident to go into the water without him. He wants to teach you how to fish like he and his father used to do. He wants to take you into the market and show you all his favorite places to get food. He wants to watch you thrive and grow beyond these games and forget about all the bad things. His want for your happiness, his need for your presence to return… It's what drives him.
He doesn’t linger on the screen for too much longer before he continues making his rounds.
-
The looks on the other tribute's faces when you offer them a piece of split open fish is hilarious. You can’t help but giggle. You have to sit for a moment and think, because no, other districts probably don’t just tear open a fish and eat it. How strange, that the tributes can be so different in culture, but still all the same.
You’ve grown up eating fish, grown up being around the smell and feeling the texture. It doesn’t bother you because it is familiar, and mundane.
They eventually sucked it up and tried some, knowing that by tomorrow they would have to eat it anyway.
“It’s not terrible, could use some salt,” Rodey joked around, twisting his face into different expressions with every bite he took.
“My m-mama cooks fish better than a-anyone I’ve ever met. Bakes it with lemon juice a-and pepper.” You smiled, willing yourself to remember your mother and her home cooked meals.
She hadn’t been able to cook in very large quantities lately, one of the primary reasons you’d been hungry so often.The loss of your dad’s paycheck was bound to take a toll.
“Sounds pretty good to me,” He laughed, leaning his shoulder into yours playfully. His attempts at affection were becoming more pronounced as the day went on. Offering you his hand to step out of the river, handing you one of the blankets to dry off with, his lingering touches and prolonged stares that lasted just a bit too long. You didn’t mind it. He made being in this hellhole a decent experience. You’re going to die anyways, might as well enjoy the time you have left.
Out of nowhere, Lukas’ yell of warning stirred everyone.
“Lyra, watch out!”
But it was too late. There was a long and colorful snake that had just sunk its teeth into her arm. Lukas immediately grabbed one of the short swords and cut it in half, ridding her of the animal… but the damage had already been done.
“What was that thing?” She grabbed her arm in pain, writhing around on the ground after feeling the spread of its venom in her veins. It turned them dark, the webbing of black inky venom had already sunk too far into her system.
“Lyra,” Rodey tried to still her movements, her screams of terror going in one ear and out the other. Lukas rummaged through the backpacks, along with you, to try and find some of that healing ointment that the sponsors had given you the day before. You’d found it at the bottom of the last pack, turning around quickly and trying to help her.
“Hold her still,” Lukas told Rodey, opening the canister, and applying some of the medical treatment over the entry wound, but it didn’t do anything. She still shook like a leaf, and wasn’t stopping.
You knelt down and grabbed one of the bandage rolls from the same pack, trying to tie off her arm and create a tourniquet from it. The venom didn’t spread as fast, but it was still going, slowly reaching the top of her arm as it crawled over every vein she had. She had stopped screaming, but took your arm with her other hand. She pulled your forwards, and your eyes widened momentarily in fear.
“Take it off, please,” she cried, her voice now slightly hoarse from the screams. You shook your head, about to protest, but she nodded. “I’m one less person to kill. Take it off.”
You looked at Lukas and Rodey, and they looked upset, but didn’t tell you anything. They didn’t know what to say. They had been happy to have this girl as an ally, but this is the hunger games. All will die but one, and this is Lyra’s time.
You looked back to her, your eyes welling up with tears. With a heavy heart, you untied the bandaging, letting the venom spread quickly again. Her flailing movements and screaming returned, but you had to step back, turning away and ducking your head into Rodey’s shoulder to keep her out of your eyeline. Once again the screaming stopped, and you looked back… Lyra had a look of peace in her now still eyes. She was gone, and the cannon fired synonymously after. You didn’t stop crying, and neither Rodey nor Lukas said anything to you about it. You felt like it was you. You felt like you’d killed her…
That’s the thing about mercy. It isn’t always about showing restraint, or holding back. Sometimes, it’s about giving in, and letting things take their course.
-
tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn
#finnick odair x oc#finnick imagine#finnick odair thg#thg finnick#finnick odair#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair imagine#sam claflin#sam claflin x reader#the hunger games#thg series#thg#katniss everdeen
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Dedicating this post to my first and only twst oc. I've never created fandom-related ocs before
He's twisted from Diaval (Maleficent) and listen, I know that Crowley is probably twisted from Diaval too, but I don't care
Lower I'll put his story in English and Ukrainian translations in case someone wants to read
English version:
Diaval's story cannot exist apart from Maleficent's. Dariel's story cannot be told without Malleus.
When he was a child, Malleus had a stuffed raven he got either from his parents or his grandmother.
The young prince Draconia could not boast of a company of peers, so he looked for friends in the books and imagination. He talked to a small army of toys and sometimes repeated the shadow theater performances Lilia has showed.
Dariel was born on one of Malleus' birthdays. By human standards, he was five. In reality, he was about fifty years old. Plenty of time to gain experience and acquire company, but Malleus had neither.
He was used to being alone on his birthdays, but that day was the first time of celebrating even without Lilia's warm presence.
On a cloudy winter night, the shadow of a toy raven opened its eyes, awakened by the young prince's desperate desire to escape loneliness and the impulses of wild magic he hasn't yet known how to control.
From then on, he was never alone again. Or at least he hoped that it would be like that.
For the first time, Malleus had a companion. Not a mute cotton-filled toy or a cold porcelain doll, but a creature with a mind and a voice of its own. Together they spent time reading books in the library, between the trees in the garden, studying and learning, and even when Malleus went to bed, he was sure that in the darkness a pair of yellow lights would certainly be sparkling under his bed. Dariel could follow him wherever there was even a tiny patch of shadow on the floor or a wall. Usually he took his native form of a raven, but within his flat theater he could transform into anything, entertaining the prince with his own performances.
Years passed until one day Dariel, trying to save a human child Lilia had picked up (one could say that protecting children was in his "blood"... if he had blood) from hostile fae, was almost dispelled.
And although Lilia had warned him how bad an idea it was, Malleus gave Dariel a material body to keep him alive. The thought of losing his constant companion, the only stability in his everyday life, was unbearable.
Lilia was right as always. After Dariel received his body, the germ of his own self began to stir. From now on, fae did not ignore him, hidden in the shadows, but glanced at him, sometimes even nodded their heads, he could open the necessary books himself, sleep, taste food, and run his fingers along the satin of the bedsheets, feeling their softness.
The world, which had previously been limited and flat, suddenly became three-dimensional, so interesting and beautiful that Dariel wanted to see it all at once.
For a long time, he did not dare to tell Malleus about his desire. The impetus came from an incident in the garden when one of the local fae called him by the name. Him. Not Lord Draconia. That evening, he finally voiced his dream. And, as expected, was rejected.
Malleus didn't want to let go of the only creature attached to him, and was afraid to feel the childish loneliness of his fifth birthday by human standards.
Soon, Dariel left on his own. He ran away. Towards the unknown and big world, for almost twelve years, knowing what fate would befall him upon his return. But he did it nevertheless. Otherwise, he would have remained in the shadow of prince Draconia forever.
He returned when Malleus was in his first year of NRC. It turned out that Dariel could not exist physically or mentally without his creator and his magical support.
Despite his anger, resentment, and the bitter taste of betrayal, Malleus left Dariel alive: he couldn’t force himself to destroy their bond. At least for the duration of the studies...
The following year, Dariel also entered NRC. Three years within its walls would be the last of his freedom. And, perhaps, his life.
Notes:
- Only Malleus and Lilia know about his true identity. Rook and Leona seem to suspect something. And Crowley. Hmm:)
- After acquiring a material body, he lost the ability to dissolve into shadows on his own, and now only Malleus can change his shape.
- Among of all races in Twisted Wonderland, he is the closest to monsters.
- When Malleus created his body, he was guided by the most familiar example: a fae body with a male anatomy. But Dariel doesn't care about his own gender (if I see an opportunity to make a character agender, I use it).
- It seems that Dariel is the only one in Diasomnia who knows how to look after children without endangering their lives and psyche. Because he is. Well. Literally a child's toy in the past. Silver can partially thank Dariel for keeping him alive during the first years of his life.
- The original toy depicted Diaval.
- Dariel always knows when Rook is watching him, but he doesn't mind, it's pretty flattering. No one has given him so much attention.
Ukrainian version:
Історія Діаваля не може існувати окремо від Малефісенти, так само історія Даріеля не може бути розказана без Маллеуса.
У дитинстві у Маллеуса був плюшевий ворон, залишений чи то від батьків, чи то від бабусі.
Багатолюдною компанією однолітків юний принц Драконія похвастатись не міг, тому шукав друзів у книжках та... уяві. Він говорив з маленькою армією іграшок та іноді повторював спектаклі театру тіней, які показував Лілія.
Даріель народився в один з днів народження Маллеуса. За людськими мірками йому виповнилося п'ять. Насправді ж — близько п’ятдесяти років. Вдосталь часу, аби набратись досвіду та обрости компанією, але Маллеусу бракувало другого навіть більше за перше.
Він звик святкувати майже наодинці, але того разу вперше зустрів день народження навіть без теплої присутності Лілії. Зовсім сам.
У хмарну зимну ніч тінь іграшкового ворона на стіні розплющила очі, пробуджена відчайдушним бажанням юного принца позбутись самотності та поривами дикої магії, яку той ще не вмів контролювати.
Відтоді він більше ніколи не був один. Чи, принаймні, сподівався, що так станеться.
У Маллеуса вперше з'явився компаньйон. Не німа набита ватою іграшка чи холодна фарфорова лялька, а істота з власними свідомістю та голосом. Разом вони проводили час за книжками у бібліотеці, між дерев у саду, за заняттями та навчанням, і навіть коли Маллеус лягав спати, він був певен, що у темряві під матрацом його ліжка неодмінно горітиме пара жовтих вогників. Даріель міг слідувати за ним всюди, де на підлозі чи стіні залишався хоча б крихітний клаптик тіні. Зазвичай він приймав рідну форму ворона, але у межах свого плоского театру міг перетворитись на будь-що, розважаючи принца власними виставами.
Так минали роки, допоки одного разу Даріель, намагаючись врятувати підібране Лілією людське дитя (можна було б сказати, що захищати дітей у нього "в крові"... якби він мав кров) від вороже налаштованих фейрі, був майже розвіяний.
І хоча Лілія попереджав, наскільки це погана ідея, Маллеус подарував Даріелю матеріальне тіло, аби зберегти йому життя. Думка про втрату постійного компаньйона, єдину стабільність повсякдення, була нестерпною.
Лілія виявився як завжди правий. Після здобуття тіла у Даріеля почав ворушитись зародок власного "я". Відтепер фейрі не ігнорували його, захованого в тіні, а кидали на нього погляд, іноді навіть кивали головою, потрібні книжки він міг відкривати сам, і спати, і куштувати їжу на смак, і проводити пальцями вздовж атласу простирадла, відчуваючи його на дотик.
Світ, до цього обмежений і плаский, несподівано став тривимірним, таким цікавим і прекрасним, що Даріелю захотілось побачити одразу весь.
Він довго не наважувався повідомити Маллеусу про своє бажання. Поштовхом став випадок у саду, коли одна з місцевих фейрі звернулась до нього на ім'я — до нього особисто, а не до лорда Драконії. Того вечора він нарешті озвучив свою мрію. І очікувано отримав відмову.
Маллеус не хотів відпускати єдину прив'язану до себе істоту та боявся знову відчути дитячу самотність п'ятого за людськими мірками дня народження.
Невдовзі Даріель пішов сам. Втік. Назустріч незвіданому та великому світу на дванадцять років, прекрасно усвідомлюючи, яка доля його спіткає після повернення. Інакше він вчинити не міг. Інакше б він навічно залишився у тіні принца Драконії.
Попри це він все ж повернувся, коли Маллеус вчився на першому курсі Коледжу. Виявилось, Даріель ні фізично, ні ментально не міг існувати без свого творця та його магічної підтримки.
Попри злість, образу та гіркий посмак зради, Маллеус залишив Даріеля живим: рука не піднялась розвіяти його та розірвати натягнуті нитки їхнього зв'язку остаточно. Принаймні на час навчання...
Наступного року Даріель теж вступив до Коледжу. Три роки у його стінах стануть останніми роками його свободи. А, можливо, і життя.
Примітки:
- Про його справжню сутність знають лише Маллеус і Лілія. Здається, Рук і Леона щось підозрюють. А Кровлі. Хм:)
- Після здобуття матеріального тіла він втратив здатність самостійно розчинятись у тінях, тепер лише Маллеус може міняти його форму.
- За природою з усіх рас світу твістеду він найближчий до монстрів.
- Маллеус, коли створював тіло, орієнтувався на найбільш знайомий приклад: тіло фейрі з чоловічою анатомією. Але на власний ґендер Даріелю все одно (бачу можливість зробити персонажа аґендером — використовую).
- Даріель єдиний з Діасомнії, хто знає, як треба доглядати за дітьми без загрози їхньому життю та психіці. Бо він. Ну. Буквально дитяча іграшка в минулому. За пережиті перші роки життя Сильвер може частково дякувати йому.
- Оригінальна іграшка зображувала Діаваля.
- Даріель завжди знає, коли Рук за ним стежить, але він ніколи не проти, це навпаки лестить. Ніхто й ніколи не приділяв йому так багато уваги.
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So, fanfic ideas.... If JJK and BNHA characters were in No Power world, what would their job be if not become Jujutsu Sorcerer or Hero (in your opinion)? Why? Please pick your top 5 fav characters from each...
Ooooh la la, another fun one. High key, I love this question. If you end up writing anything, I'd love for you to PM me so I can read it (you can also share anonymously, whatever's clever)! Thanks for the ask, let me know your thoughts below 👇🏾
This is literally me perking up any time I get a new ask. 🥰
JUJUTSU KAISEN AU
Quite literally, all of these characters would be alive and thriving anywhere else.
Nobara Kugisaki - IG Model, easy. After not getting scouted in Tokyo like she'd always imagined, she decides to do it her mf'ing self. Her results... are lackluster. At first. But as frustration wins, she inadvertently starts letting the real her shine through (complete with bouts of scathing badassery during a live complaining about her lack of fame). People begin to find her incredibly relatable and she becomes like the Jennifer Lawrence of influencers. Never once do her travels take her close to Shibuya station.
Why: That "I-Know-I'm-The-Shit-Even-If-You-Don't" attitude has nothing to do with jujutsu. Nobara has an unwavering confidence and is delulu enough to make it happen, whatever It is for her.
Yuji Itadori - As a card carrying member of the occult club in high school, Yuji starts considering his prospects for higher education (Sasaki and Iguchi will continue to need someone to hide behind as they investigate the "supernatural"). Subsequently, he finally gives into coach's insistence to join a sports team provided it doesn't take time away from his club commitments and, of course, goes All Star in whatever sport he decides to take on. Subsequently, he gets a full ride + stipends to attend university as a college baseball player after chasing his passing interest in going to the "Summer Koshien". He happens to follow Kugisaki on Insta.
Why: Yuji's need to be needed would, in part, guide his steps. I think he'd want to be something cinema related, like a reviewer! But he'd always want to coddle the cowering forms of his peers even if they weren't particularly close. Sports is a means to an end, maybe he'll study cinematography or film theory in uni! But ultimately, he's still a kid who wants to help people.
Megumi Fushiguro - Sweet baby Megs has always had a penchant with animals. They find their way to him at parties, otherwise well behaved dogs pull against their leash to flock to him... even wild animals tend to be way too comfortable getting close. This charm he has over animals amuses him though he'd never admit it aloud (he's still just as sullen as ever). Subsequently, while he doesn't need the money, he helps out as a veterinarian technician while in high school and volunteers to walk dogs at the local humane society. He doesn't have social media but he occasionally gets posted with the animals on their SM pages when they have adoption events (which tend to be really well attended afterwards). He's posted exactly one video to YouTube to an account with no profile picture that urges idiots to stop giving baseballs to dogs and leaving them unattended as aggressive chewers may end up ingesting the innards which cause obstructions in their intestines. Yuji was the idiot in question that prompted the post. He did see the video.
Why: Megumi is gentle but more specifically to life forms that deserve it. I still think he'd break the face of anyone who breaks the golden rule of "don't hurt me [or anyone I love] and I won't hurt you [or anyone you love]" but that soft spot for vulnerable beings is still there.
Nanami Kento - Nanami Kento is still a salaryman but, without the outlet that being a sorcerer allowed him when he felt dispirited, he's forced to white knuckle it like the rest of us. That is, until he finds a cause that he can dedicate some of his time to. It starts when Haibara joins a community outreach program wherein he encourages Nanami to be a volunteer mentor. It starts out rather stiffly but, eventually, things kind of click together for him. He realizes the kid he's mentoring isn't a total delinquent and the kid realizes he's not being infantilized when Nanami just cares for his wellbeing. With this understanding, Nanami really feels like his impact is meaningful and he commits to taking on more responsibilities within the program both in a leadership role and in taking on more mentees. Ino was his first mentee, Yuji was his second (mandatory after being caught underage in a pachinko casino). He couldn't get rid of either of them after the fact.
Why: Nanami isn't so bored with being an office worker that jujutsu is the only alternative. He just wants to feel like his incredibly valuable time makes a difference. He needs a cause and Papamin deserves someone to look after (quite to his dismay).
Satoru Gojo - Satoru Gojo wants for not in any universe. Subsequently, he is just an eccentric rich guy who, in a very intentionally Jay Gatsby manner, frequently throws extremely lavish parties that are the talk of the town. They are as garrish as he is outlandish but men and women flock to them for a chance at getting a peak at the Gojo clan heir. In his youth, he'd gone to a small, private religious high school and still sends individual invitations to each of his old schoolmates with the hope that one of them in particular will come. Shoko attends every party with Utahime begrudgingly at her side. Nanami curtly replies with a written "decline" to every single invitation though Haibara is sometimes able to drag him out. Geto attends occasionally but he is quite blissfully unaware that these opulent parties are solely meant to captivate his attention. He's under the impression that whatever they had in high school is long gone. Nobara has, on occasion, tried to crash these parties but security usually bounces her because she's underage.
Why: In every universe, in every life, Satoru Gojo is a simp. Especially for the lone person he considers to be his equal. For all his money, for all his power, he is always left wanting [Suguru Geto].
My Hero Academia AU
Honestly, this gave me more of a hard time. Like, the kids are the same age as JJK but, they just seem... like kids. I can't tell if it's the depth of JJK's character development or their semi-obvious cursed techniques as they relates to employment but here's what I came up with.
Katsuki Bakugo - Katsuki Bakugo is effortlessly good at a lot of things in and out of the MHA universe. While he has a keen intellect fit for many professions, I think his obsessive-bordering-on-psychopathic dedication to be the strongest, the best is reminiscent of a dude bro bullying you into buying whey protein and lifting more. He would for sure be a personal trainer who would, begrudgingly, have a social media presence where he commodifies his otherwise flippant attitude and "beats people into being a less shitty version of themselves". He would also have a private, no face cooking account on tik tok for his curated but delicious meal planning. Midoriya, unknowingly, follows both online personalities. This does not escape Bakugo’s attention.
Why: Don't get me wrong, kid is will one day be the CEO of whatever company he wants (a lot of CEO's are also psychopathic) but, considering his age and current hobbies, he was born to call his followers extras while condescending to them about a proper workout and nutrition plan.
Izuku Midoriya - Izuku and his penchant for hyper informed rants about his special interest would see surprising success as a tiktoker. Bullies would always find something to pick on him for whether that be his absent dad, his socioeconomic background, his pitiful disposition… but even they’d be clued into and following along for his long form verbal essays on pop culture (only thing I could think of in lieu of hero culture, maybe sports would be better?). He’d cultivate a community of adoring fans turned friends and collaborate with other similarly obsessed fanatics. Bakugo would be hyperaware of his channel but act really passive when any of their old middle school classmates bring it up to talk about it.
Why: I feel like tiktok is absolutely the perfect environment where people can connect over their interests and, as an aficionado in whatever seems apropos for the AU, Midoriya’s innate charm over others would shine through and garner a following. Especially because we know he knows what he’s talking about. I’d be tuned in.
Shoto Todoroki - if Enji is still in the mix, he’s likely still going to be waging war against his own weakness (in whatever capacity) and, subsequently will be both insanely successful by other peoples’ standards and still incredibly toxic toward his children in this mission. Shoto will still bear the brunt of it but will temper it with willful rebellion. Oh, you want Shoto to take over the family investment portfolio? It’ll cost you. He will be somewhat mindful of his actions so people aren’t losing their livelihoods but he will be sinking tons of Enji’s personal money into stocks or company’s with unfavorable odds. A family owned cement company that was about to go under, paying to keep a radio station operable 24/7 with semi-hourly disparaging blind items about Enji Todoroki.. these are just a few of his dalliances. Shoto is an undercover day trader using his fathers slush fund as capital. He was absolutely a big part of what saved GameStop’s stock inexplicably. Turned him a pretty profit but he refuses to give Enji the satisfaction of knowing that he may have been right in steering him to stocks in the first place. Midoriya absolutely talked at length about the phenomenon that rejuvenated his favorite game store from his youth he used to frequent with an unnamed childhood friend. Bakugo saw the segment and, while secretly giddy, did not reach out. Did thank whatever invisible hand drove the nerd to mention it though.
Why: His nepo baby status will get him in to places where he actually wants to be, career wise, but Enji is still stonewalling him into his idea of Shoto’s life. Further, he would never want his unique legacy to be tainted with whatever grace his father’s name gives him. He has time and the means to figure out what he wants to do though. And access to so much therapy.
Shouta Aizawa - I honestly cannot see Aizawa as anything not expressly kid related. The care he has when he gets on their eye level to talk to them is top tier. TBH he rounds out the trifecta of mentors who unilaterally put kids above themselves with Nanami and, arguably, Gojo. If not a teacher, I’d say a loose cannon social worker. Earnestly, this man is willing to be in the shit of it if only to spare children who lack guidance, resources, proper decision making skills, etc. as a UA teacher. He wouldn’t be of the “quick to expel and dash dreams” type of loose cannon that his teacher persona allows. He’d be more like a Benson from Law & Order SVU type loose cannon where he’s probably bending some protocols to be a bit more domineering than he needs to be so adults know that any vulnerable kids under his charge are cared for because he’s super invested in his work and their wellbeing. Plus, the man can be a little deranged so he’s not afraid to make his subtle point more clear ✨ for people who don’t appear to be getting the message when it comes to his young stewards.
Why: If there is a society that unjustly does not protect children, then Shouta Aizawa will. I think my hope is that Shirakumo Oboro isn't a lesson in every universe.
Toshinori Yagi - This man is a politician. He runs on idyllic principles which are infectious across every demographic. He appears earnest and forthright and truly got into it for all the right reasons but the reality of politics is very different from the idea of them. He still thrives but feels more and more like he's failing his constituents, losing out to other politicians who are more corrupt, who curry favor from less than savory organizations to sway policies in their favor. He's disheartened but still believes in a future with peace and looks to the youth, his biggest support base, to take steps toward progress together which includes bolstering social programs. Aizawa thinks he's a bit of a sham until money starts hitting the programs that matter. Midoriya talks about Yagi's bold commitment to partnering with the youth on his channel frequently.
Why: It was this or a Gilderoy Lockhart-esque facade for a self-help book author. I see both as equally plausible. Selling a dream while falling apart internally? Same.
#neon asks#anon asks#headcanon#anime#manga#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk headcanons#bnha#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha headcanons#nobara kugisaki#yuji itadori#megumi fushiguro#kento nanami#satoru gojo#katsuki bakugo#deku and kacchan#izuku midoriya#shoto todoroki#shouta aizawa#all might#class 1a#eraserhead#toshinori yagi
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Serotonin by girl in red
Nikola Tesla
(I am especially attached to this song with him because both the song and Nikola helped me when creating a character i love till this day)
Serious and negative assistant
[ PLATONIC HEADCANONS ] [ Nikola Tesla ]
[ Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Records of Ragnarok ]
› Song that inspired this [ Serotonin - girl in red ]
This went a little messy, still I did my best! The song was really interesting, I loved the rhythm! And it brought me a really interesting idea!
I hope you like it as much as I did! Please enjoy ~
You always loved to learn, science is something that had always amused you and you wanted to be able to enter on this magnificent world and work on all kind of studies, that is why when the the opportunity presented itself do not think twice before accepting, however nothing prepared you for what you will face with Nikola Tesla
You knew he was consider a pretty crazy man but you never thought he will be that crazy, you admire his work, you really do but you can't just understand how he can be so innocent and selfless at times, always with a smile in his face and working with an inmense passion. You admire him but don't understand him
Having the opportunity to work with him wasn't difficult, what were difficult was to actually start working, since Tesla is always so pasionate with his work and is used to work alone he almost always forgot to give you something to do, and even when you call him out for it he just apologize with a smile. At first you tried to be polite and remind him that you are here to work with him but soon you lost your patience and start talk to him irritated, telling him that you want to work and learn too, and no matter how you say it to him he never lose his smile
As irritating it can be you were learning a lot, Tesla is always explaining out loud what he is doing or all his new plans for you to be able to follow him on the project, always willing to answer every one of your question, even if that means explain the complete function and theory behind each project, it was amusing how dedicated he is on his work and on teaching you everything he knows but at the same time he has being idiotic for sharing his work so easily, someone can just steal it from him, but when you point it out he just laugh at the posibility, not with arrongance, Tesla find it pretty funny since he believe from the bottom of his heart that knowledge must be shared and science exist to help humanity improve, you really don't understand him, is really okay with the posibility of someone stealing something for what he has been working so hard?
As time pass you had learn enough to start helping him more in the projects, starting to help him while making the theory and planning how you two could make it happen, but you two constantly argue by it since while you try to keeping your feet on the ground and think in all kind of posibilities that you sure you could make work Tesla's mind goes wild and thinks in posibilities that sounds imposible before even trying to think how it could work (and yet, for him it always make perfect sense), you always got mad at him for doing it and ask him to be serious but he reasure you with a big and proud smile that he never jokes when it comes to science
It had been some times where you can tell that there are some errores or big posibilities of failure with the progress of a project, and while you try to find a logic solution to it Tesla seem to be three steps forward and has one more of his strange solution, other time he just continue with the project and end up failing, like you tried to warn him, even making clear that you already told him that it will happen and yet Tesla never seem to be truly frustrated or irritated by failures, he just stand up and wins even more motivation to continue working, you don't understand how he does it
You don't understand him, you don't know how he does it, how is posible that this man always carries a big and bright smile on his face, while you worry about things not working he just decided to search for another way to do it, when you feel like everything will go bad he has confidence on his projects, when a project fails you repeat to yourself over and over again how you knew this would happen or how you didn't prevent it while Tesla is winning more determination and motivation to continue, while you take science with an inmense seriousness and dedicaron Tesla always goes to his study with a big smile and inmense passion
You don't understand him and that frustrated you a lot, is there something wrong with you? is there something wrong with him? is that you should be more like him? is he just crazy like everyone thinks? is that you were expecting too much from science? were you expecting too much from him? You truly don't understand
Your irritation and frustration grows more and more until it start to mess up your work, you were so troubled that started to worry Tesla so he decided to take you on a break, he wanted to help you relax and distract yourself so he takes you out of the study, but you were hesitant, why you should go out when the important is in the study?
When he finally manage to get you out of the study he just take you to different places to help you distract yourself, to just enjoy the moment without worring about the projects, but you still don't understand why he is doing all of this!
After a long time of trying to relax Tesla finally talks about the work again, he tells you that he is working on the science because is something that had always amused him, he does it because he wants to see humanity improve, he wants to make everyone smile with his creations... and that includes you, he want to be able to make you smile with the science you love so much
You don't understand his reasoning and yet you can't help but feel flattered by his words, you have being so busy taking too serious science that you had forgotten about your love for science
You don't understand him and sometimes thinks that he is just a crazy man with his head in the clouds, but you were sure that you won't change him for anyone else in the world
#music prompt game#shuumatsu no valkyrie#records of ragnarok#snv x reader#ror x reader#snv nikola tesla#ror nikola tesla#nikola tesla x reader#tesla x reader#x reader#x gn reader#manga x reader
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A review of:
The Origins of Ireland's Holy Wells by Celeste Ray
Celeste Ray, a professor of anthropology for the University of the South, USA wrote this book after extensive research, both desk and foot into Irelands Holy Wells. I would honestly recommend anyone with any interest in Irish religious practices, culture, paganism, or mythology to pick it up. An amazing book. I'll be giving my thoughts and what I liked and didn't like about it here.
What I liked:
A very well researched book that shows the authors dedication not just to anthropology but to the living practices she is documenting
The passion of the author is clear and they Mince no words when discussing other researchers and their work, pointing out the flaws, misconceptions and biases (some of which were wild I can't believe some of these people are taken as authorities on the subject when their conclusion was that wells are a toilet metaphor?)
Uses a wider pre roman European context for the evidence. As we are so often reminded, to treat Ireland as some how separate from Western Europe is ridiculous and is a disservice to the interconnection of the people of old.
The reframing of this idea, which is normally used as a strong force against nativist views into a supportive one was quite interesting.
Examines roman writings in a very balanced way that acknowledges the inherent propaganda but does not dismiss it outright.
There's a whole section of people including academics who seems desperate for a roman invasion of ireland, despite there being basically no evidence of it. Like people are fully making things up to try and force one, the author gives these people a sound dismissal in their restating of the evidence of raiding and trade over large-scale roman conquest. (Genuine question can someone explain why people are so mad for Romans in ireland?)
I thus learned more about pre roman Western European practices and archeology than I ever really had the desire to. I am now much more educated on the subject.
The framing of sites as important locations adopted and readopted based on shifting circumstances of the time rather than a "secret unbroken line" which is much more realistic.
The explanation of Holy Wells as archaeologically challenging sites was well explained.
Using etymology in the connection of wells to supernatural beings. Love etymology so this was amazing
The use of early irish literature to support existing claims. Which I know claiming that there are pagan elements in the literature basically gets you spat and jeered at but nevertheless is really compelling.
While this blog has been thoroughly against the lumping together of celtic cultures, this book makes a great case as to when it is appropriate to use the term celtic and that the rush to replace this term has very much resulted in the baby being thrown out with the bath water.
Actually engages with living culture and treats folklore and living sources/practices as evidence to be considered rather than "silly little irish peasants" but also does not take every tale as completely accurate literal history.
Plenty of examples and pictures of well in practice today.
Supports a general pre Christian, pre roman use of wells and springs as sacred sites but also acknowledges the influence of both (especially Christian) on the practice.
Acknowledges the diverse origins of holy wells, from one's that have have votive offerings since the bronze age to ones that were made sacred in the modern age.
Does not buy into any sort of "Christians are thieves" narrative.
Honestly this seems like the definitive book on irish holy wells.
What I didn't like:
While I loved the book there was definitely things I took issue with.
The assertive nature of the tone was entertaining, it did sort of feel like the author was this close to calling other researchers "fucking idiots", though humanities papers seem to have a much more aggressive tone than I am used to from my field of study.
The author makes many an interesting and compelling hypothesis in the book, but they are just that. These theories are then presented as the fact of the matter when really they are no more or less substantiated than the other theories.
Could have done without some of the "identity politics" on the celtic question section. Like I get that's a huge part of this authors work but I didn't feel it was all necessary to include.
Some of the mythological comparisons seem like a little bit of a stretch Low-key.
Either way this is a fantastic work and I urge everyone even remotely interested to buy it, it's a little pricey but well worth it. It can be purchased online on Google books(link). Now obviously this is all from my lay perspective, if anyone with actual qualifications wants to correct or argue feel free. This is just my perspective.
#irish mythology#celtic mythology#irish paganism#gaelic paganism#holy wells#celtic Christianity#ireland#resources#review#mine#anthropology#irish catholic#magic#féile#lúnasa#holy well
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Book Worm and the Hunter
Requested by the lovely @leigh70, thank you again love!
Pairings: Dean Winchester x Female!reader
Warnings: Lots of fluff, mild swearing, and more fluff
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: Thinking about turning this into a series. What do you all think? Comments/suggestions are always welcomed!!
Content would be the way I would describe my life. It isn’t horrible, which I feel like is all we can ask for, and it has its moments where happiness is the only emotion I seem to have. After losing my family to hunting, whether it be actual death or the inevitable spilt that seems to happen when one person hunts and the other doesn’t, I learned that I had to live like there was no tomorrow. To some people that might mean emptying the bank account and having a wild party. But for me, it meant following my passions in life and never letting the social norms get to me. Which I why I own a small hole in the wall book shop filled with any genre you could imagine. There was always something about getting lost in a book and losing sense of reality around you. It provides that small escape you might not know you even need. But what I find truly rewarding, is helping someone find their new favorite story. Some people might not understand the importance of a good book, but I know better. My family saved people from things that go bump in the night, but I save people from something far greater. Which is how I met my best friend Donna.
Years ago, we ran into each other in a coffee shop, literally ran into each other. Coffee went everywhere and I don’t think either of us could apologize quick enough. I was normally not one for small talk, never really knowing what to say. But Donna quickly launched into conversation and asked what I was reading. Two new coffees and a few hours later, it was like we had been friends for life. There were times our friendship was strained, like when she found out what is really lurking in the shadows, but we always managed to find our way back to each other. Even though I wasn’t too thrilled about her pursuing the hunter life, she of all people managed to separate them for the most part. Until she begged me to meet her friends.
To say she was happy would be severely understanding everything about her. If there was anything in this world I wish I could have, it would be a fraction of Donna’s cheerfulness. She could have the worst of days and still find the bright side in things. And that ray of sunshine is what put a smile on my face when she walked through the doors of my shop. “Hiya, Y/N. How’s it going?”
I gave her a wave, “Good as always. You?”
She leaned against the counter replying, “It’s been tater tots and lemon drops. I wanted to run something by you though.”
I raised my eyebrows at her to explain. “I have a few friends coming in town and I wanted you to meet them.”
I tilted my head to the side and studied her. She seemed like she was suppressing some of her excitement, or at least trying to. Her constant tapping of the fingers gave her away.
“And do these friends of yours have a name?”
She bit her lip when the names, “Sam and Dean” came out. I knew two different sides of the Winchesters. The one Donna constantly talked about which made them seem like pretty stand-up guys. And then the side the hunting world talked about. While it wasn’t necessarily a negative side, but I knew what being dedicated to hunting meant. Living to grow old with a family they loved wasn’t on their list of things to do. To each their own, I guess. But Donna was normally a good judge of character, so I was going to give her the benefit of the doubt and meet them with a clean, judgement free slate.
I could see my friend nearly bursting with anticipation at my answer. She knew my past and how I felt about hunters, but they seemed to have a piece of Donna’s heart. “When do they get in?”
Her happiness at that simple question had me playfully rolling my eyes at her. “Tonight! I was thinking we go grab a few drinks and if it’s really horrible then we can fake some sort of emergency!”
I don’t know how I managed to get a good of friend as Donna, but I was thanking the heavens for it. “Sounds good. I close up today around 7. I can meet you there if it isn’t far.”
She was already shaking her head. “No, no. We can meet here and all walk together. I wouldn’t want you to walk in the dark alone.” I nodded my head at her, and she said she would be back before closing.
The rest of the day went by quickly and before I knew it, I was closing up the store. The sound of the front door opening caused me to poke my head around the book shelf I was organizing. Two of the tallest men I have ever seen was standing in the doorway. “Sorry boys. Stores closed for the night.”
The tallest one offered me a smile. “Are you Y/N? Donna told us to meet here.”
Curse that girl for not getting here before them. I was already awkward on a good day. Maybe that emergency will come into play sooner than I thought. I forced myself to walk away from the safety of my books. “Yeah sure am. You must be Sam and Dean.”
The same guy offered his hand out for me to shake and it was nearly comical watching my hand completely disappear in his. “I’m Sam and that’s my brother Dean. It’s nice to finally meet you. Donna talks about you a lot.”
I chuckled, “She has told me all about the two of you as well.” I looked over to Dean and my breath caught in my throat. I don’t know if it was the millions of romance novels I’ve read, but this man was something from my dreams.
He caught me staring and smirked. “You work here?” Sam tried to cover up a laugh at his poor use of small talk.
“No, I felt like robbing the place of all its books. I just clearly underestimated how heavy they would be.”
He ran a hand through his hair, “Yeah I deserved that one.”
My smile came naturally and as bad as it sounds, I felt better knowing he was just as awkward as I was. “It’s my bookstore. Opened it quite a few years ago. It isn’t much but I enjoy what I do.”
Sam shook his head in awe at all the books. “It must be nice being surrounded by this all day.” I hummed in response and watched Dean venture deeper into the store. Despite telling myself to stop, my eyes seemed to follow the hunter wherever he went. He stopped suddenly and I nearly smacked myself in the face for forgetting what was in the furthest corner of my store.
“Are these books on lore?” That caught Sam’s attention and I sighed as both of the Winchester’s were now combing through my collection I managed to grow over the years.
“Well, I might not hunt like my family did, but I can at least help out here and there. Where do you think Donna got some of her information?” Sam laughed and I looked up to see Dean studying me. I couldn’t tell if it was a look of shock or admiration. For my own benefit, I chose the more positive of the two.
I nearly jumped as the front door banged open and my blonde friend was bent over trying to catch her breath. “You okay?”
The boys made their way back up front as I asked the question and Donna waved a hand at me. “You know, I do cross fit, but I don’t think I get in as much cardio as I should. I lost track of time and then my car wouldn’t work. So, I thought, what the H-E-double hockey sticks, I’ll have a nice jog there and reward myself with a drink. Woah buddy I was wrong. My lungs feel like they are going to burst any second.”
I put a hand over my mouth to hide the smile that was forming. Donna seemed to notice the boys for the first time and threw them into a hug. “Hiya fellas! It’s been too long.”
She looked over to me with an apologetic smile, “I see the three of you have met. How does a drink sound?”
Sam clapped his hands together, “Sounds great. We can catch up while you catch your breath.” Donna poked him in the side, and I grabbed my keys to lock the door behind us. Donna had her arm looped through Sam’s as they walked off, lost in conversation but Dean stayed back.
“You don’t have to wait on me. I won’t be long.”
He put his hands in his pockets and shook his head, “Too much cheerfulness for me.” I snorted at the comment and finished what I needed to do. The two of us started heading towards the bar in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Something about this handsome man beside me had me feeling safe.
“Donna said you aren’t too big on hunters.” That was one way to break the ice.
“I come from a complicated past like everyone else. But I knew the two of you have treated her right over the years and it was only fair to give you a chance. You both staying in town long?”
He glanced over at me and smiled, “Longer than what we were originally planning.” I wanted so bad to read into the look he gave me to match those words, but I wasn’t trying to break my own heart. I had only met the man a few minutes ago. Clearly, I needed to slow myself down and remind myself that this isn’t like one of my books.
Donna’s voice cut through my thoughts and waved us over to a table. “We got the first round of drinks while you two were walking slower than molasses.” I shook my head at her and sipped my drink. Dean said he saw a pool table and was going to make some quick cash. Sam followed behind him which left Donna and I at the table.
“What do you think of Dean?”
I took a longer sip this time to try and think of what to say. “He isn’t what I expected.”
Donna nodded her head, seeming to understand what i meant. "He is a little rough around the edges but honestly the best of us are. I know it isn’t your thing to randomly go to dinner with a guy you don’t know, but I think the two of you would hit it off. What do ya say? Wanna give it the ole college try?”
I glanced back over to the pool table and saw the green-eyed hunter looking at us. He gave me a wink and I felt my cheeks heat up. “I don’t even know if he’s into me.”
Donna squeezed my hand, “Sam said Dean was shy around you. That for him is a rare occurrence. Honestly, Y/N, you should just go for it. All he can do is say no and then you and I can sit around watching cheesy romance movies and eat ice cream out of the tub. But you know I would only eat the ice cream for you. So, you better feel special. I don’t think he would say no to you though! What’s not to like?”
She was right. I needed to get out of my comfort zone for once and what better way to do it than with a guy who isn’t staying in town long. “You’re right.” Donna squealed next to me causing both boys to look over at us. Sam said something to Dean that had him walking this way. I went to say something to my friend, but she was no where in sight.
Dean sat across the table from me and opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Before I lose all of my confidence in this, I need to ask you something. I know the two of you aren’t staying for long, but I was wondering if we could get dinner before you left.”
I was biting my lip and staring at the table, afraid for his answer. A finger touched under my chin and lifted my head up to look at him. I was met with a warm smile, one I’m sure he didn’t use often, and a response of, “Sweetheart I would love to. I was actually coming over her to ask you myself after Sam told me to get my head out of my ass.” A blush covered my face which only made him smile bigger. “And I told you on the way here that we were staying longer than planned. It was because I wanted to get to know you more.”
My heart fluttered at his words, and I shook my head, “Dean Winchester you have no idea how happy you just made me.” Maybe love stories do come true.
Tag list: @winchestergypsy90
#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean x you#dean winchester#supernatural#dean winchester fanfiction#spn edit#donna hanscum
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Do you have any yandere Brassius? Just anything of him, I adore him
I think about yandere Brassius a lot
Yandere! Brassius headcanons
Cw: stalking, unhealthy obsession, yandere
Nsfw
Brassius is a delusional yandere, but he is not unaware. He knows what he is doing is wrong, but he thinks that he is the only one for you and he is the only one that can truly appreciate your beauty.
He watches from the top of buildings and mountains with a camera. He Rambles to himself about whatever you doing, taking a picture capturing that moment
Ready to worship everything you own? Anything you give him, he'll keep in good condition, having a shrine-no an entire art room dedicated to you. A desk with your " lost" things with pictures of you in frames. The walls decorated in unfinished sketches, drawings paintings of your face just for them to be scribbled out in what seems to be anger. With wooden statues carved to look like you in various poses, as different things, in different art styles covered with drapes.
He spends hours in the night studying the new photos he has taken of you, exploring every angle, every imperfect mark on your skin to recreate it in his new piece, only to take his anger out on it when he can't recreate your radiant Beauty. And when he does get some sleep, his dreams are plagued by your gentle hand touching his.
To you, however, Brassius doesn't seem any different. Just his usual, quarky, and eccentric Brassius self.
Maybe that's what makes him so much more dangerous. Because you could never see the red flags until it's too late, perhaps you should have noticed his eagerness to see and be around you all the time or his immediate cold shoulder when somebody would dare interrupt his time with you.
Brassius constantly internally fights on when he should make his home your permanent residence. He wants to take his relationship with you to the next level. He wants you to be utterly his. Show you his 'art' room and paint things with (and on)your body he has never done before. But observing you in the wild has been a fruitful experience, and he feels like he's not fully finished with capturing every last drop of your personality. His binder on you has not been fully completed yet.
Brassius is very patient, no matter how much he aches for you to be in his arms. He cannot risk his kidnapping plan failing, especially with his involvement in the Pokemon League and his reputation as an artist. He is careful and plans each thing meticulously. But once that iron threat of patience breaks, he quickly loses composure.
- Brass has a weird obsession with being your only artist. He wants to be the only one sculpting/drawing you or anything you tell him. He dreams about you being his nude model and brushing his hands to get a better feel of your body and, at the same time, taking short breaks by putting his lips on yours. His fingers caress each curve of your skin, dipping lower and lower.
- and I think someone else making artwork about you would be his breaking point. Desperate to gain back that control he once had, he would finally swiftly carry out his plan to kidnap you.
When he does finally have you, Brassius is bursting with excitement. He has prepared an entire room that you'll be living in. hopefully after you realize you love him he won't be needing the room. You slept so soundly on your bed. Brassius admits he has never seen you sleep before. he coos watching your chest rise and fall. he takes the opportunity to touch you. gently caress you touch you in ways he has never gone to, but not touch you enough to wake you up. he shall 'touch' you in that way at a later time. for right now there's too much work to be done. He must cover up any Footprints he has left when he took you from the outside world.
He has to say, Brassius, he's glad that he kidnapped you in the end; he cussed at himself for not doing this sooner. You are a feisty little muse and need to be punished often. Tying you down with his Bramble wrappings with a vibrator deep inside of you. Occasionally tightening those wrappings until the fake spikes dug into your skin. Maybe he could finally fulfill his dream and use you as his nude model.
He is excited to show you his art room dedicated to you. Show you finished paintings and sculptures he has created in your image.
He's even more excited to cover you in his marks. Blemish your skin with his teeth, only he could paint you in this way. Only he could paint your skin white with his cum. He'll treat your marks like a masterpiece.
He can't wait to tie you up and paint your beauty.
He showers you with affection every morning. As soon as you wake up, you're greeted with a home-cooked meal and a smiling Brassius at your bedside. Ready to cover you in this morning's kisses.
Now that he has you, he can't bare to part with you. he'll spend hours of his free time just worshiping your body, Whispering gentle praises, covering your arms or legs in kisses.
#smut#pokemon brassius#brassius x reader#Yandere brassius#Yandere#pokemon x reader smut#Pokemon#pokemon scarlet and violet x reader
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Kiri Modern AU
Alright our girl Kiri!
Everyone gets confused when she says she's Neteyam's sister because she looks nothing like him or the other Sully kids. It makes her a bit sad tbh though she tries to pretend it doesn't get to her. Meanwhile, Neteyam's proudly calling her his twin even though that's not actually possible and she's actually a few months younger than him. But it gets people to shut up a bit.
Spider is her best friend, obviously, and they hang out in any free time they have in common. He's literally her favorite person. But it takes her some time to realize the feelings she has for him hidden under those years of friendship. She only really starts to realize when she becomes friends with Tsireya and some other girls in high school who kind of force her to think about it either by one of the girls being into Spider and it making her uncomfortable (cause she jelly) or someone straight up is like so you like Spider right? And she denies it but then she can't stop thinking about it and she's like SHIT. Panic ensues.
Probably makes her own jewelry, has like a whole set up in her room with beads and pressed flowers and stuff. Most of what she wears is handmade.
She wears Grace's necklace (obviously) and crochets her own clothes. The only things she doesn't make herself are some sweatpants that are way too big for her that she stole from her dad or like some basic things like tshirts and tank tops that she embellished herself.
Kiri's bedroom is a fairy girl's DREAM! She's got plants literally everywhere, hanging from her ceiling, by her windows, on shelves. Her room is bursting with greenery and it's always flourishing. The plants are her babies. She's got crystals and candles hanging everywhere, some giant mushroom plushies (courtesy of Spider), and because I think she would, her bed is a mattress on the floor covered in comfy blankets and plant-themed pillows. Girl's probably got a mini-fridge in her room so she doesn't have to venture into her chaotic household when she's studying or busy, but it's also there for Spider (she leaves food in it for him because she's always worried the McCoskers don't feed him and they don't really).
Kiri's pretty organized except for her yarn collection which is just an overflowing basket of different weighted and colored yarns.
She cuts her own hair and likes the kind of choppy, wild look. She thinks her mother would be proud.
She has all of Grace's published and unpublished work on a shelf or nook dedicated to her with what few pictures of her there are (so newspaper or magazine clippings, some Jake took of her with her trying to block the camera, etc).
Kiri and Lo'ak still bicker all the time but her and Neteyam are really close, like actual twins though he still treats her like she's his baby sister.
She wears bucket hats she embroiders her own designs on.
She has a friendship bracelet on her wrist that Spider made her years ago that she refuses to take off. He made an adjustable tie for her so her growing doesn't become an issue.
She's pretty smart too but also works hard. She likes getting good grades, it makes her feel accomplished. Her favorite subject is biology but she really wants to go into botany like her mom or just ecological studies in general.
Spider is constantly secretly in her room cause he can scale the side of the house like a monkey and come in through her window. They watch movies together or sometimes he'll make jewelry with her for fun. She likes to fool around with his hair a lot and experiments with hairstyles. It's honestly their uninterrupted cuddle time and they also have some serious emotional talks as well. She's gotten pretty good at hiding him over the years, especially when he accidentally falls asleep and Neytiri comes to wake her up in the morning.
She's probably super into environmental activism and is president of a school club dedicated to that. She doesn't do many sports aside from archery, which is a must for all the Sully kids anyway. I think she probably plays soccer with her brothers leisurely. And hide-and-seek tag with Tuk.
The type to be friends with her teachers because she can learn a lot from them obviously. She's let into the teacher's lounge because of that to just sit and chat tbh. Another reason she's not super popular with kids her age though.
Starts watching Tsireya's swim practice when they become friends because she's a good friend like that. Can't stand Aonung though.
Lowkey pretends she doesn't know Lo'ak at school cause he's kind of a class clown. Likes to make fun of how he drools whenever Tsireya is nearby though. Thinks Tsireya could do better but is secretly rooting for him.
If anyone else has ideas please add on!
#Meena's Modern AU#Kiri#Avatar 2#Spiri#Spider Socorro#Spider Avatar#Avatar the way of water#Sully family#Neytiri#Jake Sully#Neteyam#Tuk#Tuktirey#Lo'ak#Tsireya#Aonung
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