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moondirti · 8 months

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DEE IK THIS IS SO OFF THE BAT BUT IMAGINE RIDING MIGUEL’S ABS??!;!;?:?:? WHATS UR CRUMB ON THAT BCS IM LITERALLY ASCENDING INTO HEAVEN JUST BY THE THOUGHT OF IT😩☝🏼

SUMMARY: after the events of DOUBLE RAPTURE, we follow Mig back home and explore his less than ideal relationship with his world's version of you.

explicit (18+) | 1.5k words

part one / can be read as a standalone! WARNINGS: smut, ab-riding, handjobs, codependant relationships, submissive (?) miguel, ANGST, fear of commitment (on the reader's part), implied parental issues, drinking, anxious/avoidant attachment styles NOTES: did this take me forever to respond to? yes. have i been thinking about it every day since i received it? also yes. please have a little drabble as a sweet treat for your genius mind, anon. sorry i took it too far

This is how it is with Miguel.

Buttressed on a leather couch that isn't so much leather anymore, but cotton dotted with the flakes of black suede that've managed to hold on through the years since you bought it. It's old, unstable – somewhat an apt metaphor for your relationship to the man – and stands situated across a television with no cable. He shows up at your door on any unannounced night, where for once you wish he'd catch you with plans pre-made, and intrudes on your vain attempt to connect the old screen to your neighbour's internet.

And it's ironic that you should end up watching dated cartoons anyway, stuck inside your apartment that is a fraction the size of his, because he always opens on some variation of the same line – the very thing that woo'd you all those years ago, when you were younger and prone to any man's charm:

What's a pretty thing like you do in a place like this?

It's dark outside – night-worn inhibition being one of the main constituents to poor decision making – and his skin gleams golden in the dim lamp light. You can't refuse him for all your rationale on why, so he comes in and you pour a strong drink whose hangover tomorrow will take precedence over your guilt. He drinks too, perhaps to make your eventual rejection easier, and the two of you make-out on that tumbledown couch until your lips turn blue.

Sometimes, he comes up for air – only when he gathers enough courage to break away from you – to whisper filthy nothings and little promises on the shell of your ear. Neither are empty, you know. Miguel’s good at making good of every word when it comes to you. The push and pull gets to him, fuels his gears until he’s pouring proper work into making you happy. From what you can physically face – gonna have you creaming on my cock, cariño – to prospects that remain ever-frightening – wanna stay like this forever, you on my lap, sharing our home.

You’ve never had a reference to ‘our’. Commitment remains a fickle thing for you, instilled by parents who didn’t have the mind to give it. He knows as much, but you don’t think he understands just what keeps you around regardless. What keeps you at the door, waiting for an acknowledged three-knuckle knock. None of the in betweens, flowers, nor the heights you reach spread-eagled underneath him. It’s always just been exactly that – his return, done every time without fail.

(And there’s the ever-negging fear that one day he’ll grow sick of the cycle.

On one hand, you hope he does. It hurts him more than it does you, and you hate to watch him leave. Yet on the other, more volatile hand – you pray he fucks you so well you forget your reserve, that he breeds and carries you away from this hole you’ve dug yourself in.)

For now, though–

For now, you lift the shirt off his frame. He’s let his chest-hair grow since you met him last, and if you strain to remember, he’s gotten bulkier. Abs more pronounced, with pecs that bounce when you graze your nails down his side. It’s refined, a look that makes him appear older. You swoop down to lick his neck, moaning hotly once you reach his mouth.

“You been working out, Mig?”

“For you, hermosa. Figured you’d like me better like this.” He groans, kneading the flesh of your thighs. His fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, snapping it on your skin in an explicit plea to take it off.

“And who told you that?” You say, acquiescing, working the lacey strip off your hips. Your cunt sucks at it, belligerent in letting go now that it’s soaked the fabric through.

“A couple I met. They remind me of us.” His head follows yours when you draw away from an attempted kiss. It’s unintentional, done to stand off and strip completely, yet his reaction to it sends little tremors of pleasure to your core. “Of what we could be.”

“Shhhh.” Once you’re completely bare, tits freed from your tank top, you straddle him again, a little higher this time. His waist is cinched enough to allow you to do so with little fuss, tendons at the top of your thighs aching only slightly. “Make me feel good, please.”

“Of course.”

His thumb presses down on your swollen clit, holding it in place while you arch your back and trap it underneath you – sandwiching it between your mound and his midriff. The pressure is electric, charged to fervency, buzzing as it lights every nerve ending from your waist below. And three thrusts forth and back see to it that he’s slick, lubed with the juices that gradually seep from your needy slit.

The sight, the sensations, the thought that he’s putting effort outside of this room for you – they all make you exceedingly weak. Your legs wobble, practically jello, spine made out of sand and unable to support you fully. Miguel stays firm, one large paw squeezing your breast and the other at your pelvis. You’d ask him to help, to move you against him until you see stars, but a stone lodges in your throat and prevents the words from finding clarity.

It’s guilt, of that you’re familiar, but for a number of things; the fact that he would help you seek pleasure in spite of his own – his erection left abandoned under the confines of his pants. The idea of desecrating his hard work, those muscles made pronounced, with your filth without fully appreciating it first. For everything, everything, and it’s so crushing that you stop moving altogether.

“No, no. C’mon, pretty. Keep going.” He begs, pelvis thrusting up with need. You shove your arm behind you, seeking out the zipper keeping him from you, palming his hard length with clumsy assurance “Don’t worry about me. Wanna feel you cum on my abs. Gonna lick you clean after. We have forever if you’d let me. There’s no rush.”

No rush. It’s far from the typical Miguel sentiment, and you blink in perplexed contemplation. But he just grins, brows knitting up with reverence.

“Did these people also teach you to take your time?” You struggle to say patience, because he’s always been patient with you.

“Something along the lines.” He mutters, suddenly sheepish. His fangs always intrude when his tone is quiet, like they’re intentionally making him difficult to understand. He knows he’s special to you when you try to decipher it nonetheless.

“Don’t be making me jealous, now.” You taunt, dipping to bite his lip. It’s fun to pull up, up, until he whines and shoves you harder onto him. Achingly empty and close to cumming on his abdomen alone. Slowly, you start to gyrate again, riding unrelenting sinew. And in the meanwhile, you manage to get his zipper undone, sneaking your hand beneath his briefs.

“I’ll explain lat… later, p-promise.”

“I don’t doubt it. F-Fuck,” Somehow, the pleasure is simultaneously heavenly and not enough, this little game you decided to engage in tiptoeing the line. He’s good even when he isn’t trying, just laying there, pinching pebbled nipples with enough callousness that it aches in the best way. On your first date – which wasn’t really a date, but a happenstance meeting at your father’s shady bar – he’d been hesitant to hurt you like you wanted. The best he could do was pepper your neck with sore hickeys, pocketed in the back alley, touch kinder than any you’d experienced before. “Oh my god.”

“Y-You’re so soft. My gorgeous girl. So soft and… and pretty when you do that.”

“Mig.” You wail, useless in properly pumping his pulsing cock. It’s all you can do to palm the head, smearing prespend all over his velvet tip. And it’s hard, like smelted iron, throbbing hot and heavy. It’s been so long since you’ve had it in you that you’re sure it’ll take some effort to fit. The abstraction fills you with desperation so poignant that you start moving faster, rougher, seeking an end where you’re stuffed full yet doing nothing to actually achieve it.

That is, until–

“What do you need?” He asks.

Your hole clenches. Your guts knot together. Your orgasm gathers, full and sloshing wet, trapped behind the wall he’s been breaking down since his arrival.

“You!” You finally admit. “You.” Softer.

And when you cum, soaking his middle with shameless indulgence, all he does is flip you over to settle beneath him. The couch rocks with the sudden upheaval, threatening collapse, so he keeps a firm hold of your shoulders, kneeling between your quivering thighs. His breadth bobs from over his pants – you don’t recall taking it out – purple with restrained pain and just waiting for your cue to allow him entry.

“I’ve got you, cariño.” Miguel hums, positioning himself onto the divet of your cunt when you give a frail nod. “I’ve got you.”

And you know, of course you do. He’s never backed away from a promise before. Because that is how it is with Miguel.

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milkteabinniechan · 2 months

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◍✧⁠*⁠。Ice Breaker Chapter Three - END

pairing: bf! bangchan+hyunjin x afab reader

a/n: this is the end! I had so much fun writing this, thank you all for sticking with me on this series :')

warnings: smut, kissing, mmf threesome, blowjob, unprotected sex

donate here if you like what I do 💕 comments and reblogs are always appreciated

Your heart was pounding again. Hyunjin’s eyes were wide from the question. What other games can we play tonight? Chan sat next to you and Hyunjin on the floor. His hands were folded politely in his lap like he didn’t just ask the dirtiest, loaded question ever. He looked so innocent.

“So, Jinnie,” Chan turned his body, “do you want to kiss me now?”

Hyunjin froze. A small squeak slipped out. More silence. That wasn’t a “no.” Chan was thinking the same thing. A smirk crawled across his face.

“You don’t have to,” Chan smiled. That perfect, calming smile. That smile that could encompass you in warmth and love. Acceptance. You could be anything when he smiled at you. You glanced at Hyunjin. A smile began to appear on his face as well.

You couldn’t help but stare at the two of them. Both so beautiful. Strong and delicate both in their own way. You could feel the words bubbling up in your throat, you couldn’t stop,

“Come on, Hyunjin, he’s a really good kisser.” You spurred. You were powerless now to your own feral needs. Someone else was speaking for you, controlling you. You wanted to rip off their clothes, you wanted their mouths on every inch of your skin. Touching you. Teeth scraping. Clothes tearing. More. More. More.

Hyunjin’s eyes were wild. He looked as if he wanted to leap off of the floor and tackle Chan, tackle both of you. The kiss he gave you still lingered on your mouth. As he leaned forward, Chan followed, mirroring his movements. Chan’s mouth opened first, only slightly, but he was the one to initiate this so it was only right his tongue was the first to slip inside. Hyunjin’s body jerked somewhat at the first contact. He wasn’t expecting the transition to be so smooth, so effortless. You watched with eyes wide at the sight of your boyfriend and your best friend pushing and pulling into each other’s mouths. Your legs squeezed together.

Eventually, their mouths pulled apart from one another, lips puffy and wet, a string of saliva still connecting them for a moment. You could feel your heartbeat in your core now. Soaking your panties you didn’t know how much more you could take. You felt so touch starved you feared the moment anything were to happen, you’d explode at first contact. Chan made glaring eyes at you. He had to know how needy you were, it was written all over your face.

“Sorry for kissing your girl…” Hyunjin whispered. Almost too low a volume that either of you could hardly hear him.

Chan looked at you for a long while. He lovingly placed a hand on your cheek and you instinctually curled your face into gis open palm. He smiled warmly. You watched his eyes, giving a subtle nod.

“Hyunjinnie… She’s our girl.” Chan growled. His eyes darkened and he stood. “Now then, babygirl, Dare or dare?”

“Dare.” you answered quickly. You knew what you wanted. You wanted both of them. Now. You smiled widely and Hyunjin, then at Chan. Hyunjin was visibly hard through his pants. A long, thick outline generously filled his jeans.

“Alright,” Chan started, untieing the string around the waistband of his sweatpants. “Do you want me in front or behind, princess?”

You sat up and repositioned yourself on all fours. Your face was pointed toward Hyunjin while your ass was facing Chan. You arched your back and pushed your bottom further out so Chan could see how wet you already were. “I want to taste you.” you whispered. Your eyes were locked onto Hyunjin. “If that's okay?” You paused for a moment, mid-crawl toward him. Chan paused as well, his hands already gripping your ass.

“I…err.” Hyunjin’s cock twitched. “...yes” he hushed. His tone was low but his hands were already on his belt, unhooking and pulling himself free from his jeans.

The euphoric sensation of multiple holes being filled was something you had only read about. You could have never prepared yourself for the thrill. For the absolute exultation you would feel. Somewhere in the noise and movement, Hyunjin had grabbed a handful of your hair, his hips thrusting and rutting into your dripping mouth. The sounds of your full, choking mouth, making his cock pulsate inside of you. Chan periodically smacking your bare ass as he grinds and slides in and out and in and out. You felt as if you would burst from your body and float through the ceiling.

“See, Hyunjin? She’s our girl.” Chan grunted between thrusts. His muscular thighs pushing himself deeper into you. Hyunjin whimpered in response, barely coherent.

“Say it,” Chan demanded, his eyes locking onto Hyunjin.

“She’s our girl,” Hyunjin grunted.

taglist: @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @chrizzztopherbang @fun-fanfics

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chipmunkfanno1love · 4 months

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Cliva Theories

I thought I’d write my personal thoughts on the Cliva ship and how I imagine it playing out if it possibly does head down the romantic path. I also want to give my comparison if they stick to the platonic route.

Thoughts on the ship generally:

When I learned that Viva was related to Poppy and later found out that she's actually her long-lost older sister, the thought of her falling in love with one of Branch's brothers sounded like such an adorable idea to me. Considering that she and Clay rule over the Putt Putt Trolls together, the pair already have an established relationship in the platonic and professional sense. The two seem to have a lot of respect for each other (which I'm sure Clay appreciates as he wasn't taken seriously by his brothers during his teen years) and seem to be the best of friends.

Viva appears to look up to Clay as her rock and confidant when it comes to her strongest fears and insecurities (something she struggled to open up with even Poppy). The fact that she’s been so open with him and trusts him with the responsibility of being her right hand man shows that Clay has proven himself as trustworthy and that he’s very important to Viva. She was obviously devastated by his betrayal in the movie, but doesn’t appear to hold a grudge due to her focus on freeing Clay from his diamond prison while Branch and Poppy were working on freeing Floyd. Obviously Clay is very important to her, not just as a right-hand man but also as a friend.

Despite trying too hard to be serious, Clay isn’t afraid to have fun and be silly around Viva, which shows he feels comfortable around her and she helps him embrace the fun side of himself while also acknowledging his desire to be taken seriously. Clay may also lean on Viva when it comes to handling his insecurities and frustrations (specifically regarding his issues with his brothers). I’m sure he appreciates someone as fun-loving and energetic as her taking over the responsibility of being “the fun one” and I’m sure he actually has fun with Viva due to not feeling the pressure of living up to his past boy band image. These two truly seem to empathise and understand each other as trolls.

I definitely believe that Clay and Viva have a shared love of dancing. Clay was obviously in charge of choreography for Brozone back in their youth, plus he’s famous for his Rusty Robot and later the Well-Oiled Robot dance moves. Viva is obviously a talented and enthusiastic dancer herself with lots of energy for crazy moves like flips and cartwheels. I personally would love to see more of these two dancing together, whether it be as two friends dancing together or possibly as a romantic dance fast and/or slow.

I think it's only natural that possible romantic sparks could grow between them as they re-adjust back into the lives of their long-lost family members and also accept that Bergans are no longer out to eat them. They obviously have a strong and special connection which they already built up even before they learned that their respective younger siblings are dating, so the possibility of them falling in love themselves does not seem that strange.

I have heard some people say that it's wrong and even incestuous for Branch's older brother and Poppy's older sister to start a romantic relationship because when Broppy gets married it will make them in-laws. While I do acknowledge for some people it may be weird for one romantic partner's brother to date and/or marry their romantic partner's sister I will say in the ship's defence that it is neither morally wrong nor incestuous for a husband/boyfriend's brother to date and/or marry his wife/girlfriend's sister. They are not related by blood or legal siblings themselves, so there are no reasons why they can't date or marry (with Poppy, Branch's and King Peppy's blessing). It's not that unusual for a couple's siblings to fall in love and eventually marry in real life and fiction (e.g. The Chipmunks and their Chipette counterparts in the Alvin and the Chipmunks franchise are some examples). Either way, let's try to respect each other's thoughts and opinions without judgement or harsh criticism.

I’m certainly open to this ship from a compatibility standpoint, but from a chemistry standpoint I think I’ll need a little more convincing as their limited interactions seemed more platonic in nature than romantic. I personally felt that Clay calling Viva “girl” sounded more like how a male would greet his female friend than how he would a potential lover. Although I have heard from some people’s translation of some non-English dubs of Trolls Band Together that Clay calls Viva “babe” which sounds slightly promising on the romantic side. Still you could easily say that was simply how the international production people personally translated the dub rather than it being the original writer's intention. Still, I’m certainly open-minded with this interpretation.

I definitely think like Branch, Viva will need some time to reconnect with her family and readjust to the outside world again, including learning to overcome her fear of the Bergans and coping with her trauma and abandonment issues. While well-meaning in her desire to protect her sister and fellow Putt Putt Trolls, I found her holding Poppy and to an extent the other Trolls hostage in order to “keep them safe” to be quite frightening and unhealthy. I only hope that to some extent Clay stayed with Viva out of genuine loyalty and care for her and not because he was basically held hostage by her. It would not be healthy for them to build any type of relationship out of fear and possessiveness.

Just like Poppy and Viva are adjusting to their newfound sisterly relationship, I think both Clay and Viva would also need to make some adjustments in their relationship as it changes with them being back with their families and learning to trust the Bergans. I’m curious how they’ll lead the Putt Putt Trolls now, whether they return to Pop Trolls Village or continue to run the Putt Putt Village together as they always have, but this time make it more welcoming and friendly to Bergans and give themselves and the Putt Putt Trolls more freedom to explore outside their home. I believe it will not only be good for Viva’s mental health, but will also help their own relationship to grow as Viva learns to be less codependent and becomes a little more interdependent with Clay. Plus, I trust that Viva doesn’t hold any hard feelings against Clay for his betrayal, knowing that he was only trying to save his brother. I’m sure she can empathise and understand him on that over knowing the pain of losing and parting ways with family.

Here are two plausible directions I could see the ship taking:

Romance option

Perhaps over time, Clay and Viva begin to notice that their relationship has grown and changed as they've settled back with their families. They start to realise that their feelings for each other may be more than platonic and their partnership may be based on more than a purely professional connection. I imagine that they both may struggle to open up about their feelings for each other at first. Clay's brothers (namely John Dory) may tease him over his crush on Viva but are overall supportive of the relationship.

Clay’s brother’s teasing him over having feelings for Viva (3:51 to the end) I imagine Chandler as Clay, Rachel as Bruce, Phoebe as Branch, Ross as Floyd, Monica as John Dory and maybe Gunther as King Peppy:

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Branch in particular empathises with Clay's struggle with getting out of the friend zone and being in love with an overly energetic royal. He and Bruce may offer Clay courting and dating advice as they are currently the only two brothers to be in happily committed romantic relationships.

Poppy is incredibly supportive of Clay and Viva becoming a couple and even offers to help them get together. She gets excited at the possibility of the pair going on double dates with her and Branch. Despite some hurdles along the way, the two eventually get the courage to confess their feelings for each other and eventually become a couple.

Before that happens, I could see a little ship teasing happening between them in this form. Perhaps Poppy and Branch have just gotten engaged or maybe it’s their wedding day and the two can’t help but get into a touching yet very awkward discussion similar to that of Ross and Rachel from Friends as they watch the happy young couple.

Viva and Clay ship tease example (0:05 to 0:34) (*Warning*: Sexually suggestive adult content)

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I could see the conversation playing out like this:

Viva: “Look at them, they make such a Fantastamazing couple, don’t they!”

Clay: “My baby brother and your little sister are in love and getting married. I never would have believed it.”

Viva: “Yeah, kind of ironic…what with you being my right-hand man and all. I guess it shows they were really meant to be.”

Clay: (chuckles a little) “Yeah, it is a pretty big coincidence, huh?”

After a few moments of silence, Viva finally speaks up again.

Viva: “Hey, Clay?”

Clay: “Yeah, Veevs?”

Viva: “Do you ever think…we’ll have what they have?”

Clay: (becomes noticeably nervous but yet also hopeful) “Uh, we, as in…”you, me, us: together”

Viva: “Oh nonono, not us (gesturing between the two of them) together (laughs nervously). I mean like, you with someone and me with someone.

Clay: “Oh, whew. (fakes wiping his brow) You kinda scared me there.”

Viva: “No probs, Clay. Just shake it off!”

Clay: “Right, shake it off.” (Clay shakes himself rapidly like a dog and Viva lets out a little laugh to which Clay follows after her)

Viva: “You make me laugh.”

Clay: “Hey, I’m the former Fun Guy of Brozone and your current right-hand man. It’s what I do.”

Viva: (chuckles, though she’s still smiling it looks somewhat strained) “Yeah…i-it would make things kinda weird if we became a couple wouldn’t it?”

Clay: (smiling but his eyes look visibly saddened) “Y-yeah, real weird.”

The two share a heartfelt but very awkward moment, hinting that maybe the idea of them being a couple isn’t so weird to them. They may even be visibly disappointed at the thought of the other thinking it’s weird.

In terms of romance comparison to other fictional characters' relationships I would imagine a romantic relationship developing in a similar fashion to these character’s relationships:

Melman and Gloria:

Perhaps like Melman, maybe either Clay or Viva have had feelings for their friend for a long time but have always been too shy to admit their feelings, while like Gloria the other expresses interest in dating, completely oblivious that their friend is in love with them. Maybe it’s only when one of them starts dating someone else who later turns out to be wrong for them (not that they have to be a bad person) do they start to realise the strong extent of their feelings and they get the boldness to finally confess. Overall, in the end the oblivious friend soon realises that their best friend is actually the one for them and the two eventually become a couple.

Melman and Gloria moments:

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Melma and Gloria love confession:

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Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable:

Viva and Clay share a lot of similarities to Kim and Ron in that they aren’t just best friends (Kim and Ron have been friends since Pre-K, while we’ve yet to learn what age Viva and Clay were when they first met) but are also professional partners, e.g. Ron Stoppable is Kim Possible’s crime-fighting sidekick while Clay is Viva’s right-hand man in the leadership of the Putt Putt Trolls.

Kim and Ron as a couple:

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Unlike Melman and Gloria in which one was simply too shy to confess their feelings and the other is oblivious to their friends feelings for them, it’s hinted a lot throughout the Kim Possible series that Kim and Ron share mutual feelings for each other but neither of them confess out of fear ruining their friendship. It was certainly confirmed to be the case from Ron’s side of things, while it’s merely hinted at from Kim’s side.

Proof that Kim and Ron had feelings for each other:

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I could see either Clay or Viva being reluctant to admit their feelings for each other out of fear of their friendship being ruined as a result of their feelings being unrequited or their relationship doesn’t work out and they break up. I could see this storyline working well as their excuse in future Trolls shorts and/or films.

There’s a possibility that they may have even not confessed their feelings due to it interrupting their professional relationship, e.g. Clay was too focused on being taken seriously in his job as Viva’s right-hand man while Viva let her fear of the Bergans returning stop her from considering a romantic relationship with Clay, possibly out of fear of losing him too or she was too focused on her job as leader to consider what her feelings for Clay truly were.

With time for them both to reconnect with their families and time to readjust to the real world again, perhaps they both consider the possibility of romance in their lives, which possibly opens them up to dating other trolls but realising that they don’t have the same connection with their dates as they have with each other, leading to them realising that their feelings for each other may be more than platonic.

Chandler and Monica:

Perhaps they may go down a similar route as Chandler and Monica from Friends where perhaps they begin a relationship off-screen and try their best to hide it from their siblings, either because they don’t feel ready to tell their family and/or they’re worried about how they will react to them being a couple. Though when they finally do confess their relationship, I’m sure their whole family is very supportive of the two as a couple.

Monica and Chandler Love Story (*Warning* - Contains sexually suggestive adult content and possibly triggering fat jokes)

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One thing all these couples have in common is that they were all friends first before eventually becoming a couple. The female character is generally depicted as a bold and beautiful woman (seemingly out of the guy’s league) who while she’s generally strong and independent does occasionally struggle with insecurities (with maybe the exception of Gloria perhaps), while the male character is generally depicted as more comical and goofy but overall very supportive of their female friend and vise-versa. Perhaps they date other trolls or other creatures, but ultimately realise that they’re each other’s true love.

As we all picked up, they are quite similar to Branch and Poppy’s dynamic as well, only their roles are reversed somewhat with Viva being the more emotionally traumatised one and Clay being the more stable one who is there to emotionally support his friend/lover. Though Viva still has Poppy’s energy and enthusiasm while Clay is a little more cynical and organised like Branch.

If they do become a couple like Poppy and Branch I could see it happening in a slow burn manner with little romantic hints here and there. Though hopefully there are enough differences in their pairing that they don’t play out exactly like their younger siblings do and therefore their own relationship is still its own.

Platonic option

Of course, there's also the possibility that these two may just remain really good friends and later close in-laws when Branch and Poppy eventually get married. They may even support the other in their romantic relationships with other trolls/creatures.

In terms of other fictional friendships and professional partnerships I can definitely see similarities between Princess Fiona and Brogan’s shared leadership of the Ogre Resistance in Shrek Forever After to Viva and Clay’s shared leadership of the Putt Putt Trolls.

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They may also have similarities in their relationship to General Amaya and Commander Gren from The Dragon Prince series who have a very close friendship as well as a professional partnership much like Viva and Clay themselves. I feel if either one or both of them eventually fall in love with someone else I could see either of them supporting their friend’s romance as Gren supports Amaya’s relationship with Queen Jenai. Perhaps if Clay is one to fall in love with someone else (such as perhaps a girl from his Sad Book Club) maybe Viva would feel a little jealous at the thought of losing her best friend and confidant, but only when Clay reassures her that he’ll always be there for her as a friend does she eventually accept his new relationship and gives the couple her blessing.

Whichever direction Cliva goes, whether it remains platonic or heads in a more romantic direction, I am keen to see more of these two interacting with each other and seeing how they met and became partners in leadership. I hope their relationship grows with the changes to their situation and environment and continues to flourish.

I'm just glad that Broppy has become canon as their romantic chemistry was so obvious and I'm just grateful that the ship has sailed nicely. Whatever happens with their older siblings is up for debate.

#dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls 3 #theories #cliva #clay and viva #clay trolls #trolls viva #trolls #broppy #brozone #Youtube

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habit-poxly · 1 year

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father neptune (pt.2)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

sea monster-hunter au!

description: after two months trapped in Manchester, finally Simon is able to venture back to the island to search for the woman who endlessly haunts his dreams.

warnings: strong horror elements, descriptions of drowning

word count: 3.2k

masterlist | Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

Ghost would often resent coming back to his empty, crumbling flat; there was simply no reason to stay living in Manchester- especially after the passing of his family- yet he had. Year after year Simon would put off moving into London, brushing it off as an eventuality yet one he didn't seem particularly interested in making a reality. He had given the excuse that it was too much hassle, that he didn't have enough time to dedicate to it, but

He had always been a distant man, never caring for sharing his emotions- and rarely his unfiltered thoughts. Any amount of genuine human connection was an anomaly, something he wasn't built for, something he had never felt he experienced fully. He imagines that's the real reason he stays so far away from everyone else; even when he was in a room full of people he still couldn't help but feel like a ghost- completely alone and invisible.

Night terrors had chased Simon relentlessly for as long as he could remember. He recalls that when he was a child he would often wake up in such a panic, in such fear that he was certain there must have been bugs under his skin with the way it would crawl. Yet, since arriving back to his desolate flat- bare, cold walls nestled in a row of other brown brick units- the night terrors have been replaced with dreams of her. It had been two months, horrific weather grounding the Bravo 141 crew until the storm that raged just off their shores became more manageable. Even the sturdiest of Royal Navy hunting vessels had succumbed to the violent, sail-crushing waves. That information however did nothing to calm Simon's rampant longing to return to the island as quickly as possible.

Recollections of that night had swarmed in his mind for eight weeks, turning his dreams into visions of her nightly. They were far from the horrific, gory, nightmares he had grown accustomed to; originally they started as dreams of him drowning, a quiet, slow struggle in the ocean's gentle current- a far cry from the way he had already fully accepted he was going to die. He had always believed it would be in battle, in glory, perhaps he would be eaten by a monster- the thought of drowning hardly crossed his mind despite how often he sat on top of the water. The dreams would leave him exhausted in the mornings, his body aching with the physical exertion of the actions from his dreams.

As time moved on, they morphed into something far different. She would float above the water where he struggled, white grown still heavy with the growing weight of the salty ocean water. Her hands would reach down and take his, keeping his top half bobbing above water, and there they would stay. He doesn't ever recall the conversations the pair have when he wakes, although the pleasant feeling that would settle in his gut while attempting to remember made them appear rather nice. He would cling to her, wherever she would so graciously allow, saving him from suffering through yet another night of endless struggle for life. Her fingers would run through his wet hair, moonlight bouncing off her feature and sending him into obsession.

Mad, it was driving him mad. In recent times his dreams had grown so pleasant, so healingly wholesome, that he found himself disappointed to wake up. His days would be spent in exhaustion, simply waiting out the time until he would return to sleep- until he could see her again. He couldn't stand another night slumped in his chair or laying stiff in his uncomfortable bed. No matter how many times he mulled over it in his brain, he couldn't find where the feelings came from, or why. It had been getting worse, the feelings of longing to be with her slowly becoming overwhelming. Repeatedly John had softly urged Simon to move to London, he even offered for the pair to rent a flat together. Of course, Simon declined, the captain's worries going completely unheard.

For weeks, the Captain, Soap, and Gaz had all sent him letters, filled with meaningless small talk and life updates. Simon would respond, coldly and formally as he always had in his writing, never confessing to anyone of his deteriorating situation. Simon sat in wait for one particular letter from the Captain, a letter for which he had bags packed and ready at the door waiting for the arrival of, the letter calling him back to work- finally back to her. And when it came, Simon had never been in London quicker- normally the trip would take at least four days, but he managed in two and a half. It was raining when he arrived, the streets busy with rushing people.

The crew gathered in Price's office- standing around his desk looking over one of Price's many maps. Despite the Bravo sticking to roughly the same course every voyage the men always met before departure to talk specifically about the route. Price's finger traces over the drawn lines, making routine comments and reminders. Simon rarely put full attention into moments like these anymore, he had grown so experienced that this portion of this work was an annoyance more than anything.

"We're stopping at that island?" Gaz questions, confusion plastering his voice. Soap and him exchange brief glances before the Captain clears his throat.

"Don't see why not. 's a beautiful place." John shrugs, despite how he waved off the topic his body was tense and uneasy. The three others pause for a moment as if all of them were struggling to find the proper words to question the man. The Captain notices the uneasy tension immediately, shaking his head he continues. "We won't be stayin' the night again. We'll just drop in as normal."

Simon tenses, he hadn't even thought about the possibility that the other men would want to return, his thoughts of the woman completely crowding his brain. "Why not?" He growls, his tone coming off far more dangerous than he intended. The Captain and he had a unique relationship- Ghost was just simply able to get away with treating John in a way others couldn't. Ghost suspects it's because John views him as an equal, the pair having been friends since their enlistment days.

John shoots Ghost an odd look, his eyebrows scrunching and creating wrinkles on his forehead. "There's just no need." He shakes his head again, turning back to the map ready to move on.

Anxiety pools in Simon's gut. For weeks he had been endlessly fixated on seeing her again, the thoughts of her making it nearly painful to wake up in the mornings. It was no longer a want to travel to see her, to learn who she is and how she functions. Obsessed was a word Simon viewed as too inadequate to describe how he felt, every waking and unconscious moment was spent wishing he was with her. It was desperate- he admits to himself-, the way he longed for a woman he had seen and spoken to once, a woman whose face was never even clear view. Yet, that didn't help dull any of his feelings.

" 'Think she's a selkie, maybe the lass was forced to marry one of the fat bastards in that village." Soap chimes, voice and face serious.

"Believe in sailor's tales now too do yah?" John lets his serious expression fade, the lines on his forehead fading into crow's feet beside his eyes.

"Believe in my culture- in what we saw." Soap responds firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. " 'Feel for that woman, maybe we should stop by and make sure everything 'right. Wouldn't be able to sleep knowin' she could need help and we didn't do anything." He finishes, Simon gives a brief nod before returning his gaze back to the captain. The man looked unsteady again, the same heavy look settling again.

Simon shifts in place, his large figure always seeming to lurk in the spaces he occupied. His whole life he had been deprived of essential affection, even with the handful of women he had dated he had never felt a satisfying amount of love- it always being just too little to make him content. Yet, these dreams had come and he had felt satisfied, body half in the frigid water, half in her warm embrace, it was something- and he would take anything, everything.

The Captain lets out an exhausted-sounding sigh, his fingers moving to pinch the bridge of his nose. "And what did we see?" He asks, a dangerous tone to his voice. Soap paused for a moment, face stern and lips pulled tight, the look response enough.

"You know what you saw." Soap responds, eyes fixated on the Captain. Simon had known John Price a very long time, and something he had always done was deny how things impacted him. Regardless of circumstance, John acted fine and would refuse to do anything else- driving an open and honest person like Soap mad. John wouldn't admit it out loud, yet this was something no one in the room could deny.

"We'll visit, I'm not spending a night at that dock." The Captain grumbles defeated, dragging a heavy hand over his worried face. And with that, the men went about their duties.

Preparations for their voyage didn't take long, the four men had become trained professionals over their many years inside the vessel. The ship itself was massive and commanding, dominating any harbour she sailed into- whether in experience, age, or durability. It was a typical 18th-century Frigate converted into a hunting vessel, with deep brown wood making up the hull and black metal detailing. The sides were scattered with slashes and marks, souvenirs of the many battles she had sailed away from, reminders of conquest. Three large masses sat on the deck, white sails hanging high. It was a large ship with many decks for only four men to take care of, leaving most of the ship empty for cargo- which no one minded. Fewer people had meant less mess, and the freedom of space had meant everyone had space to themselves aboard- something they all appreciated.

His silent plan to venture onto the island and search for her remains buzzing in his heart the whole trip, keeping him up at night with excitement in his cot yet desperate to return to her arms. The weather had subdued into a manageable but miserable rainfall over the ocean, grey clouds lingering above. At one time he remembers being rather annoyed every time it would rain- making the deck slippery and his vision blurry- yet as he aged he became to appreciate it, miss it even when it was gone.

His hands tightly grip the railing in front of him, his eyes fixated on the distant glow of the island's lighthouse. It sat on a barren cliffside, standing tall and alone in the empty landscape. There was a small white wooden building attached, both buildings matching in paint colour, it was one of the simpler lighthouses he had seen, probably built by the crown themselves with very limited funds. The villagers seemed to live there as if they had dropped out of the sky, the buildings seemed old yet unlived-in; as if everyone who existed within it took extra care to never leave a trace. The houses were as dull as the rest of their surroundings, serving their functional purpose only, no care taken to the details.

The entire journey had been unbearable, him having to go about his duties all while thinking of her- and having to pretend that he was not.

As the boat pulled closer to shore the men darted around the deck, fixing the sails and preparing to dock. Price called commands, it wasn't needed anymore- all the men understood exactly what they were supposed to be doing- yet John had always done it anyways. As the ship slows to a halt Simon's eyes scan tentatively down the shoreline, the cove where she had been now half filled with water at high tide. He doubted any of the men in town knew where she lived, and even if they did he doubts they would tell him willingly. Instead of docking, however, the Captain drops the anchor a distance away. Price gathers the men on the deck beside one of the small boats hanging off the side of the ship. John had been sure to remind them to bring their swords, Soap and Simon exchanged brief glances, silent questions exchanged as Price loaded them into the boat. Gaz had decided to stay on the ship, feeling far more comfortable with the space between him and the shore. The ride in was painfully quiet, the crew sitting in silence until the front of the boat hit the rocky beach.

Many times he had had to remind himself that she was just a woman, one who thought he was a ghost, one who had probably been frightened by them following her, one who had tenderly apologized for his hurt. She had been sweet, achingly so, it pierced his soul, cementing her into him forever.

As they pull the boat onto the beach Soap stretches and takes a long look around. "Where to start..." he mutters, hand rubbing over his pale face.

"Soap-" The Captain says firmly, pulling a cigar from his pocket and setting it between his lips. "Head into town, we'll meet back at the pub before it gets dark." His hands feel over the pockets of his jacket before moving to his pants looking for his matchbook.

Soap nods firmly, responding with a uniform 'yes, sir.' before turning and walking towards the path into town.

As soon as Soap disappeared out of view, Price began slowly walking down the beach, nursing his cigar as his feet displaced the rocks below his boots- not the same pair they had found on the dock, in fact, he had never seen Price wear them again, they probably sat in the back of his closet in his flat, or maybe they were silently tossed overboard.

" 'right mate?" Simon asks, eyes piercing into the shorter man as he squinted.

"Yeah, yeah." John waved dismissively, eyes locked forward. "Sleeps been shite." he grumbles, the soft admission of which seemed exhaustingly difficult.

"Night terrors?" His low voice rumbled, sometimes he hated it, how he was never able to sound tender through the years of aggressive screaming during battle.

John pauses for a moment, a hollow look falling over his features. The pair would often talk one on one, being each other's closest confidants, yet moments of sharing feelings were far and few in between. After seemingly mulling over all his possible responses he nods solemnly.

" 'bout drowning. Every night." John states, emotion devoid of the statement as if he were stating a plain fact. "It's foolishness." He grumbles, shaking his head as a soft red blushes his cheeks. Simon sucked in a sharp breath, thinking over the Captain's confession.

"What did you see in the cave?" It had slipped out, the question falling from his lips the second it had crossed his mind, leaving a tense feeling hanging in the air. The waves began to curl beside them, the intensity of the waves increasing slowly, soft drizzle still bouncing off the ground.

"Just her, nothing else." He states, breaking the strained quiet. "She looked tired, like she had been crying for days, ghostly. Thought I was havin' a heart attack runnin' back to the ship, had myself convinced she was a banshee... I don't believe in all that spiritual nonsense- but in our profession it makes me wonder." John pauses, sucking in a breach of air as he thought.

"Think of the terrors we've pulled from the ocean-" Simon's mind darts through his large arsenal of memories, ones that span over decades on the ship. The two of them had killed creatures with mouths so large it could sallow their boat whole, creatures from so deep that their bodies would swell and bloat at the surface. They had pulled up giant squids, indescribable monsters, things that looked too vaguely human to put soundly out of mind. They had killed the unimaginable, yet still believed monsters and ghouls to be nothing more then talltales

"Why couldn't something like that live up here with us?" His voice dwindled at the end, faltering into uncertainty. "Not sayin' I think she's a sea monster, I probably scared the shit out of her as much as she did me." He raises his hands in mock surrender, a strained smile tugging at his lips. The two men ventured off the beach and down an old, seemingly fairly used dirt road leading further into the island.

"Used to have dreams bout' drowning too." Simon confessed, eyes scanning diligently over the empty fields in front of him. The further from the shore you got, the more trees there would be, scattered sparsely.

"Is she ever the one doing it?" John asks, voice almost timid with embarrassment. The two men slow to a stop under the hanging branches of a weeping willow, a crumbling stone wall lining this side of the trail. His eyes crinkle, the deep purple bags becoming more clear as the sun began to peek through the clouds.

"No."

John simply nods, eyes glazing over as his eyes fixated anywhere but Ghost. He takes a deep breath, gulping down the tinge of guilt that ran through his throat.

"It'll make me feel better to see for myself that she's just a woman, then I can stop thinkin' about dying again. Get back to being a drunk bastard." The Captain chuckles warmly, attempting to move the conversation somewhere more comfortable.

"She holds me." Simon blurts out, the secret bubbling to the surface finally as it spills out against his will. John's face contorts into confusion.

"She what?" He asks, the look in his eyes making Simon wish he had never engaged with this in the first place.

"She... holds me. She'll hold me above water and... talk to me. I don't remember exactly when it started, it hasn't stopped."

John pauses for a moment, eyes fixated on Ghost's face covering, in moments like these where he could feel his face burning he was grateful for the thing.

"That's why you wanted to find her?" He asks, all the sternness on his face melting away, there was a stark difference between Captain John Price and Simon's dear friend John, human moments like these confirmed it to him. Simon gives a slow, soft nod, just enough for John to understand. He lets out a soft chuckle before grabbing Simon's shoulder and shaking him gently.

"That's nuts mate."

Simon blows out a loud huff, taking a step back as John chuckles more shaking his head. "What's the plan then?" He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his body against the mossy stone wall beside them. Under the shelter of the hanging branches there was decent cover from the rain, only a few droplets managing to sneak down and land on either of the two.

In all honestly, Simon hadn't particularly thought that far ahead yet, he supposes he'll know when the time comes, but a set plan would be helpful.

"Find her." He states plainly, John can't help but roll his eyes at the dullness of the response.

"Yeah? Then what?" John questions, his tone shifting to one more serious again.

"Keep her, love her, finally."

taglist: @blueoorchid @@hoe4myers @yjhariani @lexi-zsy09 @galaxieshearme @tumblinginoz @icepancakes @iluvweasleys (if i forgot you just let me know)

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 au #cod x reader #mw2 fanfic #x father neptune #x codmw2 ff #x my posts

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snuff-loves-men · 2 years

Text

Need to Know | P. 2

Dean Winchester x Male!Reader

Summary: Dean sees reader w/out his shirt on and flips shit bisexually

Word Count: 1.4k

Tags/CW: Bi Dean, Reader is his own person, Violence, Blood, Injury, Innuendo, Shapeshifter, Dean drinks the bubbly

THIS VERSION OF NTK HAS BEEN REWORKED

(Gif: becauseofthebowties)

Unfamiliar blood adorned (Y/n)’s arms and face, his body heaved with each breath. He’d been tackled by the shifter, it had to have taken a shine to him. Eventually, with Dean’s help, he came out on top and stabbed it with his silver blade. His hands gripped the knife’s handle with all his strength. Aside from the blood coating his hand, his knuckles were white.

“I think you got him.” The older loomed over his hulking friend. He couldn’t help but let his eyes scan his exhausted form. With each breath his shoulders would fall, his strong legs were defined in his crouched position. Both strong hands clenched, showing off each vein. Finally (Y/n) sighed, standing up over the lifeless corpse of the creature once disguised as human.

He rolled his shoulders and popped his neck, finally letting himself relax. “Surprised you didn’t have more to say. Somethin’ real dumb like ‘You done?” A smirk appeared on the lanky man, using his best mocking impression of Dean. “Hey, I don’t sound like that. ‘Sides I woulda said somethin like ‘damn, take it personal?” He chuckled at his own comment, a matching smile pulling at his lips.

It seemed like (Y/n)’s wounds only got worse, getting tackled by the shifter having left him with a few more gouges. This time they covered his shoulders and clavicle. “Alright, twig, take it off.” Dean rummaged through their almost limitless first-aid supplies. He plucked gauze, peroxide, ointment and a bandage from the bag. The older couldn’t help but let his eyes wander a bit, looking down to his friend’s well defined abs and laterals. His body was like a swimmer's, plus some extra beef. “Lay it on me, doc.” He pat his chest, grimacing at the poor choice.

After his bandages and medicine were all set, (Y/n) was sent off to take it easy by ‘Dr. Sexy’. Though, Dean insisted he kept his hoodie off. “I feel so naked.” He wrapped an itchy throw blanket around himself. Everything on his shoulders and neck ached, each muscle felt like they’d worked for hours.

Anytime a wince or groan left him, Dean would look in his direction. Usually after an expression of pain the older would either ask if he was alright, or just stare for a few seconds. At some point he’d ‘gotten sick of his complaining’ and stood from his bed, returning to the first aid bag. “What’re you doin?” “Shutting you up.” He threatened, pulling a fabric bag full of rice from the ziploc. The microwave hummed faintly, heating the little bag of goodness. Dean stood beside it and looked at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with (Y/n).

Once the hot fabric hit his neck a moan immediately left his lips, practically clawing to get closer to the warmth. Standing by was a visibly flustered Dean, biting at the inside of his lips and looking around frantically. Sam had been ignoring the whole scene. At least until he noticed a chance to make fun of his brother. “You alright Dean? You’re lookin a little red there, pal.” The shit eating grin he wore permeated his words. “Oh I’m doing great, just fine.” The oldest’s eyes remained straight forward, not connecting with his brother or his current issue.

Sitting on the floor, (Y/n) was none the wiser to the problem he’d started. Eventually he tilted his head back to look at Sam, “Can I put my hoodie on now?” He asked innocently. Both brothers wondered how he was this oblivious for this long. “Yeah, yeah. It’s in the kitchen.” Dean coughed into his hand, still avoiding his friend’s gaze. The fear that he would get caught by said friend was stronger than his will to look at the beautiful image. “Okay.”

Sleep that night was difficult for the eldest Winchester, it seemed anything he tried he couldn’t stop his thoughts. It was either extremely depressing late night bullshit, or unbelievably horny thoughts about (Y/n). “Fuck.” He whispered to himself. While his eyes remained closed, he let himself explore the thought of his friend, rather than old trauma. Each view he had of the skinny man was a blessing in his eyes, being able to see the well defined body must have been good karma. His session of reveling in dirty thoughts was ruined by the obnoxious squeaking of the leather couch.

“Hey, stop moving. Tryna sleep here.” He grumbled out a half ass excuse in the sound’s direction. “Sorry.” The familiar voice of (Y/n) could be heard across the room. Seems he couldn’t fall asleep either. A groan left Dean, he sat up from his bed and grabbed a shirt. Standing up he walked to his new interest, who was pathetically curled up in the fetal position. Though there weren’t many other choices, given his height. “Get up, let’s go outside. I want a drink.” He kicked the leg of the rickety couch. (Y/n) sat up, alarmed at the sudden movement. “Okay, gimme a sec.”

Outside was dark and cold, leading Dean to curse himself for not bringing a better shirt. It’s Indiana, why was it glacial? “You look cold.” A voice brought him from his self deprecating thoughts. “Nah, I’m fine.” He sniffed, wiping his nose and looking away from his companion. “I can lend you my hoodie to wear for the walk.” Dean wasn’t even given time to think about it, as (Y/n) was already pulling it off. Revealing a graphic tee underneath. The older caught the heavy fabric, confused on why it was so dense. “Carhartt.” He mumbled, rubbing the fabric between his calloused fingers.

Dean, as a matter of fact, did not take off the hoodie when they got inside. He wanted to experience the feeling of clothes that weren’t his for once. It seemed (Y/n) didn’t mind much, not if it was his favorite Winchester, or so Dean claims. “Yeah, that’s why Sammy doesn’t let me use his laptop anymore.” He chuckled, swishing around a drink in his glass. He wasn’t even sure what it was, just that it tasted okay and was alcoholic. Meanwhile the other settled for flat soda. “I mean for good reason. I know my sister would whoop me for touching any of her stuff.” A small laugh escaped the taller.

A bonding moment was always nice, and it seemed that’s what the two were having. (Y/n) smiled down at his tipsy friend. “You’re sister, is she doing okay?” He wouldn’t look at him, not without his hoodie on. Without the dense fabric, both of his arms were exposed. This meant the in-denial-bisexual would have to pry his eyes away if they connected. “She’s doin good, last I heard. She had a kid, man. A little girl.” Dean could hear the happiness in his voice, but saw how distraught he was.

“You ever get to meet her?” He finally connected their eyes when he asked, hoping to relieve his sadness somewhat. “No, she’s almost a year old now.” The sadness was obvious, he’d always want to be there for his sister, just like Dean was with Sam. Though (Y/n) was the youngest and his sister was the oldest, he was always the one to care for her. “That sucks man.” The older man mumbled, trying his best to express his remorse. “It’s okay, I’ll meet her someday.”

After a few more drinks, Dean was buzzed enough to use it as an excuse. “Hey, hey. (Y/n). Hey.” The shorter man had a playful smile and a plan. “What?” His smile widened. “Why do you wear this hoodie all the time?” To emphasize his words he pulled on the fabric. “Oh, people would always make fun of me for being a twig, so now I just cover up.” Dean’s smile dropped the moment he heard that. “Really?” He couldn’t believe it, not for a second. “Dude you’re built like an armored limo.” (Y/n) chuckled at the description. “Not always.”

“So you’re telling me, that you used to be a glorified skeleton with skin. I don’t believe you.” Dean scoffed, there was no way he wasn’t always built like this. He was a hunter for Christ's sake. “I didn’t grow up in the business like you and your brother. We’re back.” He smacked his drunk friend’s chest, pointing out their motel.

They both stopped walking, Dean having stopped first. “What’s wrong?” Silence filled the air. One was staring at the ground, the other leaned forward. “Do you not wanna wake up Sam? We can just sit out-“ (Y/n)’s attempt at consoling his older friend was interrupted by said friend kissing him

#spn #male reader #spn fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #x reader #dean x male!reader #dean is bi #need to know

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tea-earl-grey · 6 months

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!!!! You’re writing a post-Picard Raffi/Seven story?!

Yeah!! To be honest it's less writing and more planning/sketching out ideas I like. It's technically an AU because it's set on an original ship called "Perseverance" rather than the Ent G (I started writing some of it before Picard s3 ended and didn't feel like reworking it especially because I really enjoyed making a bunch of OCs and didn't want to sideline them). It's mostly a project to take a lot of the Picard era worldbuilding that I think is super cool (the destruction of Romulus, xBs, synths) as well as some original ideas and putting it in the style of a more 90s era mostly episodic show that swings from darker character studies to lighthearted romps and has some canonical characters (obviously Seven & Raffi as well as Janeway, Naomi Wildman, Soji, Elnor, etc making appearances) but also with a strong focus on OCs.

I became really fascinated the past few months with how hopeless the Federation and Starfleet became after the Romulan supernova/destruction of Mars in Picard season 1 and how they might realistically recover so a lot of the stories have a focus on the flaws of Starfleet/the Federation and how to solve them from the point of view of people like Seven & Raffi who have been screwed over or subjected to prejudice while still maintaining the optimism that should always be in Star Trek. (As well as just having fun developing Seven & Raffi's relationship, worldbuilding, and doing my take on ridiculous stock trek plots.)

I have the first "season" (20 episodes) planned with two episodes fully written + a bunch of random excerpts and some ideas for future seasons including one episode fully written for season 2. It's one of those projects that I know I'm not actually going to end up drafting and posting because I should really be working on other things but it's fun and tbh a good writing exercise to at least write notes for what every episode would look like.

Some of my OCs for this include:

Chief of Security Lt. Cmdr Hannah Nguyen: a human who as a teen/young adult was haunted by her dad's death in the Dominion War and acted out but eventually was given a chance to join Starfleet and has tried to bury her fears under layers of eccentricity and jokes and is now having a hard time adjusting to being a leader

Ops Officer Lt. Kelen Taan: a Trill who gains a symbiont halfway through s1 and realizes that even though they achieved what every Trill's dream *should* be, they feel even less like a complete person than before they were joined

Chief Engineer Lt John: John is from a pre-warp world that was devastated by the Romulan supernova and only escaped because of a crashed shuttle. His people are entirely telepathic and don't have a concept of language so he often feels unable to communicate and form lasting relationships (but he works on it!)

Pilot Ensign Isha Kulhari: a human and recent Academy grad who is Idealistic and Determined to do the right thing but sometimes her faith in inherent goodness wavers as she really sees the universe but still chooses kindness and hope.

Dr Sovel Dahir: a half-human half-Vulcan who was raised by humans on Earth and has a lot of issues connecting to their Vulcan heritage and culture because they don't believe that logic can solve everything.

Counselor Lt Cmdr Mateusz Binkowski: an old friend of Raffi's from before she was discharged (and subsequently reinstated) who's had a lifelong Starfleet career but harbors a dark secret about something he did in the Dominion War as a young man.

Some of the ideas I'm particularly proud of are:

a courtroom episode involving a legal case about whether xBs as a group should granted asylum into the Federation. Seven is called to testify but is hesitant to go because she's spent so long trying to distance herself from being an xB because of her trauma and to gain others' respect and now she doesn't know how to connect to this huge group built on a shared trauma

the tried and tested sex pollen episode. it's cringe and silly but it was so much fun to write a ridiculous comedy that also digs at some of the complexities of Seven and Raffi's relationship and whether it can work out for them as captain and xo

the ship is dragged through to another universe where there's a version of the Federation that's obsessed with scientific progress at any cost with no consideration for morality. We find a version of Seven (or rather Annika) never assimilated by the Borg who's leading a project to break through to other universes to explore but might be endangering the walls of reality. (similar to the mirrorverse this becomes a recurring setting)

breaking away from our main characters, we follow a group of Romulan refugees turned pirates as they plan to break in to and loot the ship. it'll be one part fun genre heist story and one part stark look at how refugees are demonized and forced to turn to crime

a Borg cube is discovered in Federation space and Seven is sent to investigate (and destroy it) along with her chief of security, Nguyen. Nguyen has a deep fear of the Borg which she's never admitted to Seven (or anyone) and spends the story combatting her fears and trying to come up with a way to save the drones as proof that she can act beyond her fears. Meanwhile Seven, battling her own demons and self-hate, insists that the cube needs to be destroyed. It's told in media res through a therapy session.

sorry this was so atrociously long. props to anyone who read this far!! i would also be more than happy to share my gdocs of everything i have written and outlined if anyone is interested or to just chat in dms!

#sorry this was more than anyone ever wanted to know about my fanfic #i can never just write a silly canon compliant oneshot huh #perseverance au #my posts #my fanfic

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cheridraws · 1 year

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the world you've built so far sounds fascinating! sounds like a killer fantasy novel! and the bit with Phil being responsible for Lasair being around yet Patrick feels the need to sacrifice himself in the process of defeating Lasair- that's some juicy conflict right there waiting to happen. also i would like to know more about Lasair and that design!

Eeee thank you anon!!

And yes yes!! Lasair’s plan could not have happened without the help from both the boys,,, so the conflict that happens between them stemming from both their guilts is 👌👌👌 so so yummy. They’re both equally responsible for this mess!! Phil knows he’s responsible for the release of it into this world, but chooses to blame Patrick because if he acknowledges his own crime, then that makes him partially-responsible for Patrick’s insistence on sacrifice,,, they’re both so fucked up I love them <3

And LASAIR,,, my beloved

So, for some context: Lasair is what is referred to as a Spirit in their world, which is a being created out of a massive event in history. The life spirit was created by creation, the death spirit was created by the first death (a little songbird, hence its title the Songbird), and et cetera. Lasair happened to be formed out of a human-started fire that burned down the entirety of an island (the world is basically a bunch of islands connected via ports and ships. Lasair was created by the destruction of one of the bigger ones)

Due to this, Lasair is basically a living flame. It was corrupted by the hatred that caused its fire, though, so it views the world as a place of corruption, fear, hatred, et cetera and wants to purify it. Uh. Purify as in destroy all of it. Oops. The issue is that the other spirits kinda hate this idea, and managed to lock it up via ritual with the help of some humans (one of which happens to be granted immortality as a gift,,, and is helpful to the plot later on,,, and makes me want to cry)

Phil just happens to uh. release Lasair several centuries later not knowing what it was. in his defense tho it did trick him….. Like, if god came out of the sky and said he was going to give me college money as long as i helped him out, I’d probably do it too

ANYWAYS, Lasair’s power is limited, so it knows it needs the help of humans to achieve what it wants; it’s not nearly as strong as the other spirits (it’s fairly new), and it’s flame can only reach so far. It needs to make other humans do it’s work (which is also proving it’s point abt humanity. That they’re irredeemable and prone to destroying themselves. But also like,, Las is purposely surrounding itself w the worst of humanity and helping feed its already traumatized and broken followers this idea that humans are terrible and don’t deserve life, worsening their own issues, so them and It are only ever seeing the worst,,, and not the beauty,,, sobs)(also also Patrick being apart of this cycle of hatred and eventually ESCAPING. And then slowly looking into the world around him and realizing it can be beautiful. URGH). Anyways, to get humans, Las figures that it needs to *appear* human in order to gain their trust and loyalty

You know how how you can burn sand into glass? That’s essentially what it does. It wears faces of glass/porcelain that it can mold very quickly, and the same with limbs and it’s body. When it wants to change, it lets these pieces shatter, then reconstructs it’s features, like glass blowing,,,, it’s kind of hard to explain, haha. Spirits aren’t supposed to appear human, though, hence the oddness of Lasair’s attempt. Its facial expressions are caused by the glass reheating and shifting, and its mouth never moves due to the effort that would take, so it just opens it to signal its speaking,,, that sort of thing.

This faux skin is also very warm to the touch since underneath it there is literal fire. Also, it never has managed to form hair; it just lets flames take the shape of that. Since creating large amounts of this glass-like body is difficult to maintain, it usually only forms a face and arm, then lets its cloak hide the rest

(This is also to show why Pat, whose own hair is the color of Lasair’s flames, shaves his head immediately upon leaving and covers up the rest with a hat. He’s ashamed of sharing that color with it).

Lasair is an interesting concept to me though,,, its worldview and Pat’s attempt to change that view in the end. The way it takes broken ppl and convinces them that the world is nothing but suffering, so why save it… and then how willingly Pat went along with this mess, even being the one to help Lasair create this empire, before escaping that mess and learning how to love life again,,, OUGH it makes me so so unwell!!! I rlly need to draw Lasair at some point…

Anyways, thanks for the ask anon!! <33 I love getting to talk abt my lads haha

#ask me anything #oc stuff #SCREAMS #I LOVE talking abt this stuff hehe!!!!#can you tell I’ve poured alot of love into these lads <3333 #((and a lot of angst agsjshs))#thanks for letting me ramble!!!#I hope lasairs description makes sense ashdjsh it’s kind of an odd concept but one I thought was pretty cool

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muraenide · 1 year

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Coffee Shop AU

Another verse because my gremlin brain is flinging out ideas left and right.

Note: If your muse is Malleus, any of the Diasomnia students, or the faculty, this verse is request-only since they are key characters in this setting and I don’t want to force anyone to play any roles. Hence, I will only whip out this verse if someone expresses interest in it or we have plotted something.

This verse centers around canon’s idea that everyone is afraid of Malleus and the ultimate reason behind it. The truth is long before the beginning of Twist and some time after Malleus’ birth, he’s regarded as a wizard who is strong enough to one day destroy the world, but due to the fact that Malleus himself has thus far done nothing yet, the Magical Council of wizards decided to give him a chance after a secret agreement with Briar Valley.

And that agreement is: Crowley will take in Malleus and enroll him into his school as a student so he could keep an eye on him. Malleus’ real identity in NRC is not a student, but a hostage under surveillance. And yet, no one should know of this. At some point of his life, other than accidentally setting Briar Valley on fire, Malleus has actually done worse things which he no longer remembers, thus everyone being afraid of him but Malleus simply does not understand why he’s so feared.

Assuming nothing happens in the 4 years Malleus was in NRC and everyone safely graduates, Crowley later introduced a secret organisation of wizards stationed in the non-magical world (presumably MC’s hometown). This was supposed to be kept a secret, as well, but hey super top school secret that Jade doesn’t know about? Impossible. Jade eventually expresses interest in joining them, and due to Jade’s history of being extremely competent in NRC, Crowley permits it.

Jade then moves into the non-magical human world and sets up a vintage themed coffee shop run by a single person alone: himself. In reality, the coffee shop is a hub for all wizards operating in the human world who was under Crowley’s supervision to get into contact with their superiors or other connections in the magical world. Jade’s job was to simply manage the coffee shop, ensuring its true purpose remains a secret, and resuming Crowley’s duty of keeping an eye on Malleus and ensure that he is under control from time to time. He achieves that by befriending Malleus and frequently invites him for coffee under the guise of just “catching up”, alongside doing other things to not appear suspicious.

The verse can take place anytime since the start of twist to post-graduation.

#// verse tag tba

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nightfallen-spellweaver · 2 years

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RP Info: Sapphira

GENERAL INFORMATION -----------

FULL NAME: Sapphira Athunn

NICKNAME(S): ‘Shiney’, Sapph (Saf)

TITLE(S): Outcast | Spellweaver

AGE: 900

BIRTHDAY: N/A (Rp to potentially find out, Sapphira doesn’t usually talk about it or celebrate it)

RACE: Shal’dorei

GENDER: Female

MARITAL STATUS: Single

HISTORY ------------

Sapphira was born in Suramar but she does not know who her parents are or if she has any sort of family as she was orphaned. She grew up in an orphanage but the moment she was able and old enough to, she left to take to the streets to fend for herself. She was never one to fit in as she found herself unable to conform to her society’s ‘norms’ and often had an issue with listening to authorities or authority figures. She was often shunned and cast out of any social groups she tried to wedge her way into to aid her survival out on the streets that she was just barely surviving in.

Though, there was one person who eventually took in Sapphira over the years. An elder Shal’dorei by the name of Ralan saw potential in the young woman and took the rather rebellious child under his wing. It wasn’t before long that he became a sort of father figure to her. During the rest of the years of her childhood spent under Ralan’s care Sapphira found she had an affinity for spellweaving and excelled in her magical studies when it came to engraving materials to endow them with certain magical properties. Fire and frost magics also seemed to come easy to her.

When the Legion eventually came during Sapphira’s adult years, her father figure was sadly ripped away from her when he was murdered by a demon serving the corrupt authorities running Suramar; leaving Sapphira alone yet again. She watched helplessly from the sidelines while her people clashed and fought on opposing sides. It was a tiring struggle to save those who lacked a steady source to the energies her society thrived off of to sustain life while she herself had begun to slowly wither away like so many others of her kind while also trying to flush out the corruption that had engulfed her people. It wasn’t until the Legion was finally pushed out of Azeroth and her home, and after a steady energy source was once again supplied, that Sapphira took the first opportunity she could to leave the city walls to explore Azeroth and the lands beyond.

(RP to find out any more details about the character!)

PERSONALITY -----------------

Sapphira is very free spirited and can sometimes come across as a bit aloof in her apparent lack of seriousness. Though she may seem like she might not be paying attention, or taking something seriously, she is in fact giving it her utmost attention and problem solving to the best of her ability. Her constant humor is how she copes, especially if a situation is particularly dire.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE -------------

Sapphira always carries herself with confidence, grace, and an air of mystery. Her frame is lithe and strong, and her dark skin sports shiny, iridescent tattoos on her face and body. Long dark purple hair frames her sharp features while hooded eyes curiously observe her surroundings.

HAIR: Long dark purple, always frames her face and comes to the center of her shoulder blades.

EYES: The signature luminescent white eyes of all Shal’dorei

HEIGHT: 6’5

BUILD: Lithe

PIERCINGS: Right ear; a silver hoop decorating the cartilage of her upper ear and one on adorning her earlobe, connected by a silver chain.

PERSONAL INFO ---------------

PROFESSION: Spellweaver, martial artist, adventurer

HOBBIES: Drawing, exploring

SKILL(S): Hand to hand, martial arts,

LANGUAGE(S): Orcish, Shalassian

RESIDENCE: N/A

BIRTHPLACE: Suramar

FEARS: Withering, betrayal, abandonment, misplacing trust

RELATIONSHIPS -----------

CHILDREN: None

PARENTS: Unknown

SIBLINGS: None

OTHER RELATIVES: Unknown

ACQUAINTANCES/FRIENDS: Ninnah

TRAITS ----------

•extroverted / introverted / in between.

•disorganized / organized / in between.

•close minded / open-minded / in between.

•calm / anxious / in between.

•disagreeable / agreeable / in between.

•cautious / reckless / in between.

•patient / impatient / in between.

•outspoken / reserved / in between.

•leader / follower / in between.

•empathetic / indifferent / in between.

•optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

•traditional / modern / in between.

•hard-working / lazy / in between.

•cultured / uncultured / in between.

•loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between.

•faithful / unfaithful / unknown / in between

•assertive / timid / in between

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION -------

SMOKING: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

BRIEF DESCRIPTION -----------

FACECLAIM(S): Lesely-Ann Brandt

VOICE CLAIM(S): Lesely-Ann Brandt

ALIGNMENT: Chaotic

IN-GAME NAME: Sapphiràh

Contact Info: RavenSong#7645

#lfc #wow rp #world of warcraft #worldofwarcraft #warcraft rp #warcraft #shaldorei #nightborne #warcraft roleplay #wyrmrest roleplay #wyrmrest rp #wyrmrest accord #wyrmrest horde #warcraft oc #warcraft shadowlands #lfrp #warcraft elf

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spoilertv · 9 days

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#SpoilerTV

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mmriesoftvat · 5 months

Note

" ... a god? " Albedo cants his head just slightly, admittedly a tad SHOCKED that that is the first assumption Kazuha had latched onto. Should he take that as a COMPLIMENT? That the aura he gave off made the idea of him potentially being a ' GOD ' not so far fetched? Or, should he be CONCERNED that he appears so ' otherworldly ' that his attempts to blend in with mortals hasn't been as smooth as he had presumed and hoped?

Kazuha's visible concern, though, as he inquires about Albedo's godlike ( really, the lack thereof ), has the Alchemist pushing his own, self erected worries to the back of his head. " I am no god, Kazuha, " he reassures, with a shake of the head to emphasize this. " No, no, that is... not what I mean by not being human. "

So, why not cease STALLING and explain himself, then, instead of prolonging the dire truth that Kazuha has rightfully earned? Mayhap because being a god, and admitting it, might just be easier than the actual truth. With a shaky sigh, Albedo's fingers rise to brush against the star shaped mark in the center of his neck, frowning 'pon the realization that Kazuha, finally, had noticed it and called attention to it. He's catching on quick--- no turning back now.

" My status as Chief Alchemist came from my unrivaled expertise in the craft, as... you are aware. Yet, it is... not just a hobby for me. I do not know so much about alchemy exclusively because I've studied and practiced it, but... " What will happen first, he wonders? Will his throat close up, as it feels set to do, or will this artificial heart of his give out and put him out his misery? He's certain looking Kazuha in the eye might expedite whatever gruesome end sees fit to reach the finish line first, and so... he doesn't.

He turns his back, squeezes his dominant hand into a trembling first with a groan of leather sounding from his gloves, and spits it out. Finally, hastily, he spits it out.

" I am a child of alchemy. The work I do for the knights, and as my own, personal pursuits, is... precisely how I came to be. This mark upon my neck -- the one I saw you eyeing earlier -- is proof of this. " Gold's ' stamp of success, ' if he had to word it in a way that wouldn't make blatantly EVIDENT the bitterness he housed for her. " I-I was... the product of many grueling and cruel attempts at creating life from earth and science. The so-called perfect experiment... yet, that cannot be further from the truth. You... thought me a god, yes? Sometimes, I wish that is the hand fate had dealt me instead, if I am being wholly honest. "

// I'm late with the next chunk of this, but here you go~ It's finally out.

Truthfully, Kazuha has no idea what he's supposed to feel with this revelation. A god would be easier to swallow; he's enountered plenty of those (Raiden Shogun is still one too many). Kazuha knows he'd be able to think fast on his feet were Albedo some sort of deity. But something different? This isn't ever what he'd imagined his life to be. There is a part of Kazuha who wants to ignore the growing fear and continue to stand strong in his convictions. He does still feel for Albedo. Kazuha's never been more sure of anything in his life. They'd had a strong connection that had never wavered in the past.

Until now.

It is not the reveal that Albedo is created from someone else. It is the uncertainty and even the way Albedo speaks about himself. For a brief few seconds that stretch on forever, Kazuha wonders why he's still even trying to pursue something. Wouldn't it be so much easier to let Albedo continue to push him away? What is one moment of heartbreak and grief compared to an enternity of doubt and self loathing? Kazuha would learn to live and would eventually move on and grow old and die peacefully, having lived his life with as much fulfillment as possible. But Albedo would not get such a luxury.

In a way, Kazuha almost pities him. He isn't sure what the lifespan of a created human even is, but Kazuha's mind is at work, imagining a stagnant existance that never chances, someone who is forced to watch the people around him change and evolve with the times. What would happen to Albedo in the end? If he's already this downtrodden over his existence, it surely isn't going to get much better as the years slip by.

Maybe...maybe it wouldn't hurt for Kazuha to put his own emotions to the side. The fear and doubt, but also his feelings. Albedo doesn't need love to change him, he probably needs someone to accept him as is first. There has to be a way to pull him out of whatever funk he's in. There is still a dark kind of beauty to be had in these moments.

"You may have been given a bad hand in life," Kazuha says, pushing through the voice crack and the tremble. He is afraid still, yes. This is new for him. Though, it's also a new adventure for him to explore, and this time, not alone. "I can't say I'm not...a little apprehensive about this news, but one doesn't need a poem to aptly describe how perfect you can be regardless."

Indeed, Kazuha still recalls the Iridori Festival. He still recalls how hard Albedo had worked on his art, how much he'd given for xingqiu and their collaboration. Even long after the festival, Kazuha had seen Albedo's art all over. Either as Albedo or as Calx. Whatever the pen name, Kazuha had admired each stroke of the brush and believed that Albedo was telling a story, expressing himself in ways he couldn't in person.

He's still as beautiful as when they'd first met.

And he's beautiful even now.

"You may not see the perfection right now," Kazuha continues. The uncertaintly in his voice is fading the more he thinks, the more he speaks. It is possible to push through this and to get back on track. A hiccup, even a large one, doesn't determine anything for either of them. Silly, that it takes Kazuha thinking of Albedo's art to remember how strong his feelings had always been since the moment they'd met.

"If you do not want to pursue any romantic intimacy right now, I am willing to take a step back." He lifts a finger, sucking in a deep breath. "This does not mean I'm giving up entirely. Nor does it mean I'm giving you space. What I mean, is that I want to be there for you, to lift you back up to a mental place you belong."

Kazuha's starting to lean toward taking a nap now. His emotions are still all over the place, and an hour or two of sleep in the remaining day sounds like a good idea. Perhaps later on, he can convince Albedo to even go fishing with him. Something calm and repetitive would surely brighten the spirit.

"We'll work through this together. We've been close for this long, and unless you give me reason to walk away forever, I won't." He's certain of that -- and hopes that whatever Albedo is, he doesn't ultimately turn out to be someone beyond even Kazuha's reach.

That thought alone terrifies him, and therefore he won't entertain it.

#tenebriism #; albedo #( SELF | KAZUHA. )#( IC. )#i am pouring my heart and soul into this ship #long post

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wordsofrowan · 8 months

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From Ashes to Embers

Chapter 11 - One Scoop for Two

I sat on my bed, tears streaming down my face. It had been a couple of weeks since that movie date with Luka, and the constant juggling between school, Shadow Moth's relentless akumas, and my duties as Ladybug was taking its toll on our relationship. As I scrolled through Luka's most recent Instagram post, my heart sank at the sight of him standing with a stunning girl, her multicolored hair exuding an aura of confidence and charm. A wave of sadness washed over me as I couldn't help but feel like I was losing him.

In the photo, Luka looked so happy, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was happier with her than he was with me. The thought of all the times I had to abandon Luka on our dates because of my responsibilities as Ladybug made my heart ache. I loved him deeply, but it felt like I was constantly letting him down.

As the tears continued to flow, I couldn't help but blame myself for the growing wedge between us. The weight of my duty as Ladybug and the burden of keeping my identity a secret from Luka were taking a toll on our relationship. I knew he cared about me, but I couldn't shake the fear that he would eventually get tired of my constant disappearances and broken promises.

"I'm so sorry, Marinette. I'm sure this must be hard for you," Tikki said, her tiny form hovering close to my face, radiating warmth and comfort. "Maybe if you talk to him and explain that you're going through a hard time, he'll understand?"

Despite Tikki's kind words, the overwhelming guilt continued to weigh me down. Tears flowed freely as I tried to articulate the depth of my remorse. "No, Tikki, you don't understand," I managed to say, my voice trembling between sobs. "I fear that Luka must hate me by now. On our second date, a sentimonster appeared, and I had to run out on him. I left him standing there, telling him I needed to get napkins quickly to prevent the ice cream from melting. But by the time I returned, the cart and the ice cream were already gone."

My words were filled with regret as I poured out the painful memories of my mistakes. "Then, on our third date, an akuma flew by, and I made him stop so I could help a friend. It was a weak excuse, considering we had planned our date. And on our fourth date, he was excited for me to watch him perform with Kitty Section. But I was late due to an akuma attack and absurdly told him about mosquitoes on the boat, claiming I needed to go back home for insect repellent. I didn't even have any repellent with me, so he must think I'm a liar. I hate this, Tikki. I hate how I'm hurting him."

With each confession, the weight on my chest grew heavier. My heart ached, knowing that my actions were causing me anguish and tarnishing the love that Luka and I shared. I longed for a way to make things right, to mend the fractures in our relationship, and to prove to Luka that he meant everything to me.

Tikki's comforting presence reminded me that I wasn't alone in this struggle. She fluttered closer to me, offering a gentle touch of support. "Marinette, we all make mistakes," she said with unwavering kindness. "Luka cares about you deeply, and I believe he'll understand if you talk to him and share what's been weighing on your heart. You two have a strong connection, and he'll appreciate your honesty."

Before I could answer, my phone started ringing, interrupting Tikki and me. I glanced at the screen, and Luka's name flashed brightly. Without hesitation, I answered the call.

"Hey, Luka, what's going on?" I asked, trying to sound composed despite the lingering traces of sadness in my voice.

Luka's voice carried a hint of excitement and anticipation. "Marinette, do you think you can come to the Liberty? There's someone I want you to meet."

His request surprised me, but curiosity quickly replaced the heaviness in my heart. "Of course, Luka. Let me just freshen up a little, and I'll be right there."

The call ended, and I retreated to the bathroom, seeking solace in the cool water that cascaded over my face. As I gazed into the mirror, my own reflection stared back at me, a testament to the strength and determination that burned within me. I wiped away the remnants of my tears, refusing to let them define me.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my wardrobe, carefully selecting an outfit that spoke volumes about my intentions. I chose a vibrant, colorful ensemble, adorned with patterns that mirrored the kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within me. Each piece of clothing symbolized my resolve to mend the fractures in my relationship with Luka, to rebuild the trust and understanding we had once shared.

The white eyelet sundress hugged my body gently, filling me with a sense of elegance and confidence. I then gracefully slipped into a pair of delicate white lace stockings, their soft fabric caressing my skin like a gentle breeze. For the shoes, I chose white criss-cross espadrille sandals, their comfort allowing me to walk with assurance.

I turned my attention to my jewelry collection, selecting a simple rose-gold heart necklace with my initials on it, a ladybug charm anklet, and a charm bracelet that held sentimental value from my parents. Each accessory carried a piece of my heart, a reminder of the love and support I had in my life.

Finally, I completed the look with a cropped pink knit cardigan, its softness wrapping around me like a warm embrace. As I swung my pink heart-shaped handbag over my shoulder, I motioned for Tikki to stay safely inside.

With every piece in place, I felt a renewed sense of determination, ready to face whatever awaited me at the Liberty. This outfit wasn't just a fashion choice; it was an armor of my feelings, a declaration of my commitment to make things right with Luka. As I stepped out the door, I knew that the journey ahead wouldn't be easy, but my love for Luka was worth every effort.

Arriving at the Liberty, a rush of emotions overwhelmed me, mixing dread with a tinge of jealousy. There stood Luka with the girl from his Instagram post, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity. She was undeniably beautiful, and even though I wanted to dislike her, her captivating presence made it difficult to harbor any negative feelings. Her dark rainbow hair flowed like a mesmerizing waterfall, and her edgy outfit exuded confidence and style. The black leather jacket paired with a fitted black dress, fishnet stockings, and knee-high lace-up boots created an aura of allure that was hard to ignore. Each accessory, from the striking silver statement necklace to the ornate hairpins and dark red nails, added to her enigmatic charm.

Luka's gaze towards her was filled with warmth and affection, and it only intensified the pain in my heart. The love and care he displayed made me yearn for a chance to regain his trust and affection. I wanted to be the one he looked at with such tenderness, the one who held a special place in his heart.

Feeling a mix of determination and vulnerability, I knew I needed to make things right with him. I didn't want to lose him to the shadows of misunderstandings and mistakes. I wanted him to see how deeply I cared for him and that I was willing to work on our relationship with every ounce of my being.

With a mixture of trepidation and determination, I mustered the courage to approach them, my footsteps cautious as I inched closer to overhear snippets of their conversation.

"Do I actually need to meet her, Lulu?" The girl's voice carried a hint of skepticism, and her question piqued my curiosity. Who was she, and why did she seem so possessive of Luka's attention? My heart raced as I waited for Luka's response, hoping to gain insight into their relationship.

Luka's reply was steady and composed, a testament to his calm nature even in the face of doubts. "Come on, Noemi. She is my girlfriend. Can't you give her a small chance, at least for my sake?" His words resonated with a gentle plea, and I admired his determination to bridge the gap between us.

However, Noemi's response sent a pang of hurt through me. "Why should I? From everything you've told me, she doesn't exactly sound like the best person." Her doubt lingered in the air, and her words cut through me like a knife. I knew why she thought that, but I couldn't help but feel hurt and broken by that comment. The weight of her words bore down on my already burdened heart, making me feel as if I was being judged solely based on my mistakes.

Hearing those words, an instinctual reaction surged within me, and I instantly wanted to turn and run away. The desire to escape from the pain and judgment overwhelmed me, but I fought against it, reminding myself that running away wouldn't solve anything. Instead, I took a deep breath, finding strength in the face of my vulnerability.

“Hey, Luka,” I said, plastering a smile on my face as I turned to look at Noemi, “Hello, I’m Marinette, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before.” As I greeted Noemi with a smile, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of unease in the air. The tension between us was palpable, and I wondered how this encounter would unfold.

Mari! I'm so glad you're here," Luka said enthusiastically, introducing me to Noemi. "Marinette, this is Noemi, my best friend in the whole world. Noemi, this is Marinette, my girlfriend, and the one I've been telling you about."

As the words left his lips, I saw Noemi's eyes narrowing slightly, her gaze fixed on me. I felt a knot forming in my stomach, unsure of how she would react to me in person. Trying to ease the tension, I extended a hand towards her. "Well, hi, Noemi. It's a pleasure to meet you," I said, attempting to maintain a friendly demeanor.“She sure seems really cool.”

But before I could say anything further, Noemi interjected, correcting my assumption. "They," she-they said firmly, emphasizing their preferred pronouns, "I'm Nonbinary, my pronouns are they/them."

"It's nice to meet you, Noemi," I said with a slight smile on my face, trying to maintain a friendly demeanor. "Luka hasn't really mentioned you before."

Noemi's guarded expression softened slightly, but skepticism still lingered in their eyes as they replied cautiously, "Well I’ve definitely heard about you." As the words left Noemi’s lips I couldn’t help the glare that settled on my face as I looked at them.

"I understand that you may have reservations about me based on what Luka has shared. But I want you to know that I'm genuinely trying to be a better person and to make things right. Luka means the world to me, and I would never intentionally hurt him."

Noemi's response came out with a scathing edge, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "Sure, that's why you constantly ditched him, consistently neglected him, and left him hanging high and dry." Their tone was filled with accusations, and I felt the weight of their words pierce my heart.

Luka's expression shifted from surprise to concern, his eyes searching for a response from me. I felt a mix of emotions welling up inside me – guilt, shame, and frustration at myself for hurting Luka repeatedly.

"It's not like that," I tried to explain, my voice tinged with regret. "I never intended to hurt him. It's just…”

“Just what Marinette?” They asked and I couldn’t bring myself to answer, “That's what I thought. Excuses," they retorted, their voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, Marinette, actions speak louder than words. Luka deserves better than someone who prioritizes everything else over him.”

"I... I never meant to hurt him," I stammered, my voice wavering with emotion. "I care about him so much, but it's just so complicated.”

Noemi's expression remained unyielding, unmoved by my attempt to justify my actions. "That may be true, but you also have a choice. You can choose to prioritize Luka and your relationship with him. But it seems like you've already made your choice."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt the weight of their words. I had made choices, and they had consequences. I had hurt Luka, and it was a painful truth I couldn't escape. Noemi's presence only served as a reminder of my failures. I took one more look at Luka, my vision blurred by tears threatening to spill.

"I..." I started, my voice choking with emotion, "I have to go." I managed to say as tears streamed down my cheeks. I turned away, unable to bear the pain of facing Luka and Noemi in that moment.

As I ran, my heart felt heavy with regret and sorrow. The conversation with Noemi had opened my eyes to the damage I had caused, and it was overwhelming. I didn't want to face Luka until I could sort through my feelings and find a way to make things right.

In the midst of my tears, I heard Luka's voice calling after me, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. My emotions were in turmoil, and I needed time to gather my thoughts and find a way to fix what I had broken.

XoXo Rowan

#writing #spilled ink #miraculous au #miraculous fandom #lukanette #slight angst #miraculous truth #miraculous lies #miraculous s4e1 #miraculous s4e2

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howyouducan · 1 year

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Umbril Torq-Alth, now trying out a hyphen. Perhaps the meaning can now shine through: Torq resembling "torch," his biological mother having been assigned to the fire-keepers/light guards as a lifelong position; and Alth, a corrupted (or creatively spelled) "elf."

Umbril is a Szarkai, an albino drow. The appearance of Szarkai have provoked a variety of reactions from Lolth-Sworn society over the centuries. In Umbril's time, the bright hue of the skin is an undesirable trait, but the condition itself is considered blessed, as well as its side effects: bare of hair; noticeable veins; curling of the fingers and toes; odd jagged development of the teeth; and viewed strangely positively, doubled weakness to bright sunlight.

Coupled with his servant status this put Umbril in a curious position. As a female he could have become someone high-ranking, outstripping his mother easily. But as a male, he can never have any power; yet, Szarkai should not do menial labor lest they be looked down upon, for fear of disrespect to Lolth herself.

Fortunately, Szarkai can have another use. Albino drow and albino high elves are indistinguishable, in theory. The symptoms are unfortunately strong in Umbril, but the drow are of course all too content to take a gamble and pass it off as sickness, if it means gaining a spy.

Umbril, age nine, was given a mission and sent to the surface with another Szarkai, an adult female of both status and skill. They were to set up in Baldur's Gate in order to track the location of a mysterious item connected to Lolth without drawing attention. The item proved to be more difficult to pin down than expected; the duo stayed in Baldur's Gate for three years, spending the last months in outright hiding, having drawn the ire of the Rakshasa who jealously hoarded said item.

Finally, all other options having been exhausted, a report to the underground was deemed necessary. The two parted ways to make for the journey home separately. The plan went awry when it was revealed that the Rakshasa had quietly been watching them all the while and had sent mercenaries after each. Umbril had noticed his hunters, armed and numbered; and so, rather than stick to the plan, he threw the mercs off his trail the only way he could: doing the unthinkable and turning around.

Confronting the Rakshasa in their lair revealed that this Rakshasa had the ability to open portals to other planes. The Rakshasa used a prisoner, an aberration, to open a portal to the Far Realm. Umbril was banished to the Far Realm for only hours, but exposure to such alien dimensions has consequences. Umbril, delirious and dissociated from his senses, began distorting the space around himself by his own will, and eventually, used that same spell to sacrifice another aberration and open a portal back to Faerun.

Both mental and physical developments stayed with him, as well as additional memory problems. He has since lived in the wilds alone, with budding talents of sorcery. But the Lolth-Sworn took his missing presence as death, and should they discover Umbril still lives, it would turn into a mark of betrayal...

#umbril #baldur's gate 3 #please reimagine that tattoo as spider legs

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gazrgaley · 1 year

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(chapter 32)

Justin was completely awestruck by Amy. In the past few months, he's had a strong sense of isolation. To find out now that she was actually on his side the whole time was a huge shock. To him, it was all relief. He fell in love with the woman he would eventually propose to all over again. Informing him of her experiences in C.R.O.W., she shared her observations with him. They were finally able to have an open dialogue.

"I want you to accompany me to a meeting with C.R.O.W. They might be able to assist. Maybe if they try..." Amy tried and tried to persuade him.

"No." He objected to it. Confronting Amy with his true identity was a big step, but telling a group of vampire murderers was a whole different ballgame. He was not guilty of any murders. But he wasn't completely blameless. How could he convince others that he was safe when he no longer believed it himself?

Just then, the idea occurred to Justin that they may be able to turn over Milo to C.R.O.W. Milo had murdered before, and he appeared to take pleasure in doing so. To prove they meant business when they said they wanted to destroy vampires. But despite his animosity toward Milo, he hoped nothing awful would happen to him. As a result, his thoughts went unspoken.

"They don't know who you are. I didn't tell anyone." He agreed with her because she made valid points. Unfortunately, the risks were far too high. He couldn't gamble with Milo or his own life. Why was he so concerned about Milo? Milo was unquestionably the villain. He might be able to escape if he assists them in finishing him.

Amy became silent as she began gnawing on her knuckles. Which indicated she had an idea. "Ah, I see now." Her bright eyes were nearly overshadowed by her grin. "You're correct; you shouldn't go up against C.R.O.W because we don't know how they'll react. However, we don't need to meet with them."

"What do you mean?" Justin asked. He was disturbed by her grin and watched her as she leapt up, overjoyed with her own plan that she had yet to reveal.

"C.R.O.W. has a not-so-anonymous supporter. They act as a connecting point to which we can travel. They are not to blame for any vampire murders. First and foremost, we must explain ourselves to them. There's no harm in taking a dip to determine whether or not they can help us."

***

After a short time, Grendel's physique had become as solid as a rock. "Milo is OK." He kept repeating to himself. "It's not possible for him to perish. Not before me, he said so, he promised." Grendel brought his fist-clenched hands up to his crown. "His word was his bond. There is no way he would start lying to me now." His punch retreated only millimetres before it struck the wall.

Grendel's mind was inundated with images of the doctor poking and prodding Milo. He was being subjected to experimental treatment. "Because I wasn't there, Milo became ill. I'm here now. Everything is going to be ok."

He remembered the doctor's words about the need for blood tests. That was still an unusual concept to him. How did this magic function? He couldn't, however, focus his mind on this. He needed to calm down. Something he was generally bad at, but he didn't have anyone else.

It didn't take as long as he thought and to his relief, discovered that this wasn't as difficult as he had anticipated. He was completely unaware of his surroundings until he heard a hushed voice off in the distance. At first, he attributed the voice to Richard. However, the more he focused on it, the more baffling it became. As if trying to hear a conversion underwater.

He moved slowly down the corridor, stopping in front of the wall where he had heard the voices. He was clearly getting closer to the source, but the noise was becoming fainter. With his ear to the wall, a new and unsettling feeling of fear overtook him.

Suddenly, something hard and sharp grabbed him from behind. Before he could figure out what had caught his attention, he turned and saw Richard staring at him incongruously. "Exactly what are you up to?"

Grendel tried to explain that he had heard something or someone in the room. However, the voices didn't seem right.

Richard sighed with the frustration of someone who must constantly repeat themselves. "This is completely false; it's just a foolish rumour circulating in an empty room. No, sir! These two guest rooms are always available in the event that any VIPs decide to pay us a visit. You cannot stay here to "confirm for yourself" that the rooms are haunted." This time, he was not speaking to Grendel, but to one of the numerous others who had inquired about it.

Grendel lacked the guts to challenge him. However, the idea piqued his interest. He should probably ask around. Having a ghost in the house was not something that happened on a regular basis. The witches, on the other hand, insisted communication was simple for them. Few of them had previously conversed with him, and even fewer would do so now. Not after he was responsible for the coven's second head-chopping.

The rage in Richards' eyes was the first thing that brought him back to reality. "Don't even consider it. I finally managed to get folks to drop that ridiculous rumour. You had best not have anybody bringing it up again."

"I wouldn't," Grendel said, throwing up his hands in surrender. "Never in a million years would I even consider doing it."

"No, I'm serious. If I discover you were involved because I overhear rumours about you again." Grendel nodded his head in agreement. He couldn't place which Richard he was talking to. Richard might be a family man or a businessman. Or was this a hitherto unseen facet of his personality?

When it came to business, Richard usually kept his cool. He only became emotionally invested in things that were immediately relevant to him. This was, however, an unusual crossbreed. He appeared angry, but his words were flat as if he were reading from a script.

The doctor emerged from room 1002 at that precise moment. Richard swiftly turned from Grendel. "Doctor, I'm delighted to have bumped into you like this. You're exactly the man I was looking for." Richard now had a bright, threatening smile on his face. "How is your family doing, daughter?" As he approached the man, he placed an open arm around his shoulders. "So, Shall I walk you out?" He then led the doctor to the elevators, where they both vanished.

#manifestation of a monster #warm blooded vampires series #vampire stories #wattpad #gaz042

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deenoss · 2 years

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Chapter Twenty-One: Even Angels Need Angels

One week later...

A week after being given the news of attending a family dinner with his girlfriend, (Y/n) Donohue had been attempting to comfort himself with the idea of meeting his future in-laws as the pressure was slowly becoming too much to handle. He was talented enough to hide his worries from others but doing so towards Kate proved to be more difficult, having to lie to Kate's face.

(Y/n) had waited all week for Sunday to come. Now that it had finally arrived, he had been sweltered with anxiety and negative thoughts. For the whole morning, (Y/n) was in the library, studying up on the play he was to take part in that coming Wednesday. As it turned out, he was given a crucial role in the play of Romeo & Juliet. He wasn't quite familiar with Shakespeare, which was why (Y/n) took the time to read up on it for the past few days.

In the absence of her boyfriend, Kate Marsh had been busy catching up on her religious faith by going to church and reading the bible as well as reconciling herself through prayer to her Almighty God. The town church was always open to God's children if ever they desired to seek guidance, particularly on Sundays where people could attend mass and keep their faith strong and alive. Although, Kate was there for more than just guidance and reconciliation.

Her infamous video which caused widespread criticism to her good intentions were askew as Kate Marsh struggled to cope through life when every waking moment she was terrorised with blasphemy and heresy for attending the Vortex Club party. People shun her out - inclusively her own family - and Kate was staggeringly losing her faith. Even after having a decrease in the video's spread, its mark had still been left on her.

Even being at church, Kate felt self-conscious about those in the house of God with her whom she feared were thinking negative thoughts about her. Kate had isolated herself in the very back corner of the church were she wouldn't be in anybody's direct line of sight, but rather hidden so that she could establish her connection with God in peace. Kate prayed and prayed, begging for an end to her problems, wishing that she could no longer life in darkness.

Kate silently cried to herself as she gripped her cross for dear life. The few people who were in the church - a majority of elderly people who could do whatever they pleased in comparison to the high-school drop-outs - were too focused or too distracted to even notice Kate and her dilemma. Eventually, Kate was able to calm herself down before she gave one last prayer before she took her leave in order to return to campus and prepare for that evening.

Kate had briefly secluded herself in her room in order to acquire new clothes to wear for later that evening. She took with her a towel and had a quick shower before she returned to her dorm. Meanwhile, (Y/n) was doing the same but at a much slower rate. His fears of being a let-down to Kate's parents due to his overall appearance was overwhelming which cost him time and self-confidence.

(Y/n) was startled when he heard a knock at his door. When he realised what time it was, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and composed himself before he answered the door. To (Y/n)'s lack of comprehension, he staggered backwards when a fist kissed his mouth and fell on his back. The feeling of blood trickled from the cut on his bottom lip where standing at the doorway to the room was the jock - (Y/n)'s Blackwell Academy nemesis.

Pulling himself up to his feet, (Y/n) confronted the jock and staunchest him. "Yo, what's your damage man?!"

"You don't get to talk shit to me after what you did to me in the locker room, Leslie." The jock snapped breathily.

The strong smell of alcohol hit (Y/n)'s face. It provided the clear indication that the jock was intoxicated when he confronted (Y/n) at his dorm. Others were still in their rooms when the disturbance began, but things didn't escalate straight away, so nobody would be aware just yet.

"I don't even know what you're talking about, Frank." (Y/n) stated defensively.

"Bullshit! I know you were there at the football field. You were there waiting until our game started before you rigged my soap with mayo and whipped cream! I'm gonna make you pay, Leslie. You're gonna pay."

When (Y/n) got up to his feet, (Y/n) grunted and squirmed at Frank's brute attitude when he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and smiled crookedly at him before he butted heads with him, instantly busting (Y/n)'s nose. As a result, blood stained the collar of (Y/n)'s buttoned shirt, staining his mouth with wet blood. He was thrown to the ground but in the hallway where people could witness the ordeal unfold.

People stuck their heads out of their rooms to investigate the commotion. But upon realising what was going on, people witnessed (Y/n) being kicked while he laid on the floor, curled up in a ball when Kate Marsh ran out in a lovely black dress and attempted to interfere. (Y/n) watched on helplessly as Frank turned his attention to the dirty-haired blonde girl.

Frank groped his hand with ease around her throat, firmly holding her jaw to keep her still. This enraged (Y/n), allowing him to find energy that he intended to use against Frank. Slowly, (Y/n) got up to his feet. Frank noticed this and looked over his shoulder at the long, brown-haired boy. His hair messily covered his face as he stared daggers at Frank.

"Get. Away. From. HER!" (Y/n) boomed.

(Y/n) charged into Frank, effectively breaking his grip off Kate. The students that made up the audience of the fight were all either watching with their own eyes or additionally with their phones that recorded the ordeal. Kate watched on helplessly as her boyfriend and the jock wrestled and threw punches here and there.

From the crowd emerged two familiar faces: one of whom immediately noticed Kate's distress and ran off to gather help while the other remained behind and intervened by prying the two boys apart. Only then did Kate step in and poorly restrained (Y/n) while the other who turned out to be none other than Warren Graham himself kept the jock back from causing any further trouble until David Madsen arrived to de-escalate the situation.

Students dispersed by returning to their rooms while (Y/n) and Frank were escorted to David's office in order to provide information that regarded the incident and the cause of it. As this happened, Kate lingered in the hallway, coated with anxiety and trembling where she stood until her dear friend Max came along to comfort her in her room. They sat on her bed and cuddled until Kate's worries eventually went away.

"Are you okay now, Kate?" Max cooed into Kate's ear.

Kate sniffled and nodded her head in confirmation as they physically broke apart and made eye contact.

"Yeah. I'll be alright, Max. I should probably go check on (Y/n). We'll be late for dinner with my parents."

"Okay Kate. Drive safely."

"We will. Thanks again Max. I cam always count on you."

Kate strut out of the room with her head up high as she walked quickly down the hall, taking sharp turns towards the security office. The interrogation was still underway by the time Kate got there. She overheard David Madsen reprimand the two boys in his office for causing a fight that had now lead to them getting into trouble and possibly leading to a suspension. Anxiously, Kate waited outside the office until the boys were dismissed.

As soon as (Y/n) stepped foot out of the office, he was greeted by Kate throwing herself at him, enwrapping her arms around his neck. She pestering him with questions about his wellbeing while he dismissed her concerns but took them to heart as they made their way to his car. In the absence of a purse or handbag, Kate had brought a handful of tissues in order to treat her boyfriend for the blood smeared all over his face.

"... I told you, I'm fine, Kate. It doesn't hurt as much now." (Y/n) assured her with an irritable tone in his voice. "Sure, I look a little bruised up but I promise you I'm not going to pass out or anything, nor do I have a concussion. I see just fine, baby."

A frown still tugged on the corners of her lips as (Y/n) turned on the ignition and gave it a minute before he drove them off using the directions provided by Google Maps. The road was fairly quiet with a few people out and about here and there but otherwise it was still as always a peaceful evening in Arcadia Bay. Music played through the radio to help suit the mood and the scenery as (Y/n) drove wearily to Kate's home address.

The two sat in silence and enjoyed the ride until they arrived outside Kate's house. (Y/n) admired the house after he pulled over and turned off the ignition. Idly, the two sat in the car until they were ready to get out and head inside. Kate and (Y/n) got out of the car and made their way up to the front door of her house and knocked on the door. Patiently, they waited to be let in - Kate took the time to fix (Y/n)'s face in the meantime.

#kate marsh x reader #kate marsh #max caulfield

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