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#tanya sully
sullyfortress · 1 month
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I imagine that Jane secretly mourns her sister, but can’t show it because she’s a big ole baddy. Also has a complex because she worries that her sister could have done more for the na’vi than she can.
Also in this AU I imagine that two twins growing up on overpopulated earth, Tanya was the one who inherited a love for science and human betterment which would give her more opportunities and a chance to leave the slum areas they lived. Jane was the hard head who got in fights with kids in the ally and failed school, whose only real choice was to join the military.
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matysiameow · 2 months
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🩷 my personal icons 🩷
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WLW Tournament Round 1
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These are our tournament lineups! We will begin with Group 1 on Sunday, March 19th and polls will run for a week.
I will add links to the matches here when they go live.
Group 1
Lyn/Ninian VS Ursula/Sonia (CLOSED)
Sharena's Harem VS Farina/Karla (CLOSED)
Ethlyn/Ayra VS Celica/Faye (CLOSED)
Minerva/Palla VS Edelgard/Hilda (CLOSED)
Byleth/Edelgard VS Edelgard/Constance (CLOSED)
Tana/Marisa VS Marcia/Elincia (CLOSED)
Florina/Ninian VS Nanna/Mareeta (CLOSED)
Lachesis/Selphina VS Constance/Hapi (CLOSED)
Nyna/Midia VS Altena/Eda (CLOSED)
Eirika/Tana VS Melady/Guinevere (CLOSED)
Mikoto/Reina VS Sophia/Idunn (CLOSED)
Larcei/Lene VS Nyna/Elice (CLOSED)
Maribelle/Olivia VS Alear/Yunaka (CLOSED)
Lucina/Severa VS Timerra/Merrin/Panette (CLOSED)
Edelgard/Bernadetta VS Lissa/Maribelle (CLOSED)
Rebecca/Nino VS Tanya/Mareeta (CLOSED)
Group 2
Cèline/Hortensia VS Bernadetta/Marianne (CLOSED)
Kris/Katarina VS Petra/Bernadetta (CLOSED)
Dorothy/Sue VS Isadora/Eleanora (CLOSED)
Fjorm/Laevatein VS Panne/Emmeryn (CLOSED)
Elincia/Leanne VS Micaiah/Vika (CLOSED)
Ethlyn/Edain VS Edain/Deirdre (CLOSED)
Titania/Petrine VS Annand/Rahna (CLOSED)
Soleil/Ophelia VS Serra/Priscilla (CLOSED)
Kris/Cecil VS Nephenee/Heather (CLOSED)
Linoan/Eda VS Micaiah/Fiona (CLOSED)
Edelgard/Dorothea VS Lucina/Morgan (CLOSED)
Azura/Felicia VS Panne/Olivia (CLOSED)
Lapis/Citrinne VS Lilina/Gwendolyn (CLOSED)
Igrene/Echidna VS Deirdre/Ethlyn (CLOSED)
Marisa/Tethys VS Ladislava/Judith (CLOSED)
Selena/Ismaire VS Dorothea/Ingrid (CLOSED
Group 3
Lyn/Florina VS Faye/Silque (CLOSED)
Chloe/Merrin VS Leonie/Marianne (CLOSED)
Eirika/L'Arachel VS Byleth/Shez (CLOSED)
Annette/Lysithea VS Shamir/Catherine (CLOSED)
Karla/Vaida VS Guunthra/Laegjarn (CLOSED)
Ayra/Brigid VS Sigrun/Tanith (CLOSED)
Sonya/Rinea VS Kjelle/Severa (CLOSED)
Caeda/Catria VS Marianne/Hilda (CLOSED)
Lethe/Jill VS Tiki/Say'ri (CLOSED)
Sakura/Hana VS Severa/Cynthia (CLOSED)
Dorothea/Leonie VS Clarine/Dorothy (CLOSED)
Tsubasa/Ellie VS Sully/Sumia (CLOSED)
Dorothea/Monica VS Elincia/Lucia (CLOSED)
Etie/Yunaka VS Mist/Jill (CLOSED)
Sue/Lilina VS Celica/Mae (CLOSED)
Soleil/Nina VS Ayra/Lachesis (CLOSED)
Group 4
Rinkah/Charlotte VS Lumera/Eve
Sakura/Elise VS Olwen/Ishtar
Lumera/Zephia VS Camilla/Beruka
Emmeryn/Phila VS Ethlyn/Lachesis
Sumia/Cordelia VS Erinys/Silvia
Tharja/Olivia VS Micaiah/Laura
Seforia/Eve VS Camilla/Hinoka
Dorothea/Petra VS Hilda/Annette
Sonya/Mathilda VS Edelgard/Monica
Genny/Est VS Vanessa/Lute
Alear/Ivy VS Lyn/Serra
Ilyana/Mia VS Neimi/Amelia
Kagero/Orochi VS Celine/Chloe
Rhea/Catherine VS Corrin/Rhajat
Lana/Julia VS Annand/Pamela
Morgan/Nah VS Fjorm/Laegjarn
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rianavi · 11 months
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requests
sending a request? make sure you’re mindful of my wishes.
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STATUS: open
will do;
smut, fluff, angst, most kinks
won’t do;
incest, rape, SA, real people, male readers, pegging, homophobia, ass eating, pet play, substance abuse, extreme bdsm, abuse, pedophilia,
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characters;
(* means sfw only)
harry potter; james potter, lily evans, sirius black, regulus black, remus lupin, mary mcdonald, marlene mckinnon, harry potter, ronald weasley, hermoine granger, draco malfoy, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley
mcu; peter parker, tony stark, thor odinson, loki laufeyson, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, wanda maximoff, pietro maximoff, bruce banner, clint barton, shuri udaku, t’challa udaku, bucky barnes, peter quill
atsv; hobie brown, miguel o’hara, peter b. parker, gwen stacy*, miles morales*, pavitr prabhakar
mortal kombat; sub-zero, scorpion, smoke, johnny cage, kenshi, liu kang, kung lao, kitana, mileena, ashrah, li mei, raiden, syzoth, shang tsung, sindel, tanya
criminal minds; spencer reid, derek morgan, emily prentiss, penelope garcia, elle greenaway, aaron hotchner, luke alvez
top gun: maverick; bradley bradshaw, pete mitchell, jake seresin, bob floyd
percy jackson; luke castellan, annabeth chase*, percy jackson*, grover*, clarisse la rue
supernatural; sam winchester, dean winchester, ruby, castiel, john winchester
narnia; edmund pevensie*, prince caspian, peter pevensie, susan pevensie
thg; katniss everdeen, finnick odair, peeta mellark, johanna mason, sejanus plinth, coriolanus snow
stranger things; steve harrington, robin buckley, nancy wheeler, eddie munson, jonathan byers, mike wheeler*, eleven*, max mayfield*, lucas sinclair*
outer banks; jj maybank, rafe cameron, sarah cameron, john b routledge, kiara carrera, pope heyward
avatar; jake sully, neytiri sully, neteyam sully
flash; barry allen, cisco ramon, caitlin snow, killer frost, ralph dibny
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toomanyf4ndoms7 · 2 years
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Mortal Kombat: Born of Deception: One True Ruler.
Summary: Onaga has had plenty of time to ponder his priorities in the centuries between his demise and resurrection. 
Chapter List.
Chapter List part two.
Onaga sat on his throne, observing the coloured beams shooting into Shinnok’s amulet. With all of his enforcers assuming their roles, it left him alone to ponder.
It was strange, under his original rule he was never as interested in conquering, mainly enforcing obedience with his army.
In the countless years between his death and recent resurrection, Onaga had rethought his priorities. At first he was obsessed with achieving immortality, to ensure an eternal empire. His advisor, Shao Kahn, was opposed to such a plan, claiming that it was a waste of resources searching for a myth. Perhaps that was why he decided to poison him.
Onaga growled in recollection. Oh, how he remembered the rage and betrayal he felt upon his last moments. How his advisor stared at him dismissively as he choked on his own blood.
Shao Kahn formed his empire into an aggressive force, conquering realms and merging them into Outworld.
At first, Onaga was furious with his former advisor. How could he care to sully his kingdom with the fusion of other realms? But over time, he had learned of the benefits of such a procedure. Uniting realms allowed one to position themselves as a symbol of strength and dominance. The species of Outworld, whether native or merged, would need to submit if they wanted to keep their traditions and lifestyles.
Onaga was still furious with Shao Kahn and swore that if he ever showed his traitorous face in his presence, it would be the last mistake he’d ever make. Bit something else he had learned in the ether of death, was the benefit of manipulation. Why bother doing the dirty work when you can have others do it for you?
Baraka, Mileena, Hotaru, Tanya, all of them were under the belief that they were equals. Onaga would grant them some power, allies were useful to have on standby, but not nearly as much as they craved. Hotaru would be a worthy general of his army, Mileena and Baraka could feast upon the spoils of battle, Mileena could assume the role of her genetic template, and Tanya could rule a puppet kingdom.
They were pawns in his grand design. No matter how much they pretended otherwise. Tanya was a perfect example. Onaga was no fool, he could tell when a servant had their own agenda. He would let her rule her pretend kingdom, let her pretend she could deceive him. If she is as fond of survival as she claims, she will bite her tongue and follow his lead.
He had been deceived before and will not allow anything to stop his victory. The Elder Gods may oppose him, but once he is empowered by the Kamidogu, even they will fall to his will.
In the end of this charade, the sun will rise on a new empire. The eternal empire of Onaga. The Dragon king, and the one true ruler of existence.
Onaga grinned, exposing his sharp teeth.
He could barely wait.
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omagazineparis · 12 days
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Pause création, un concept store dédié à la création
Un concept store entièrement dédié à la création, c'est ce que Ô Magazine vous propose de découvrir. C'est au cœur du 6ème arrondissement, à Lyon que nous vous donnons rendez-vous, pour partir à la rencontre de Pause Création, un atelier-boutique, qui ne vous laissera pas indifférent.  Ouvert en janvier 2016, c'est au cœur de Lyon que Pause Création vous accueille « comme à la maison », comme aime le dire Priscilla, fondatrice de Pause Créati. on. Franco-mexicaine, diplômée de l’EM Lyon, Priscilla exerce dans le marketing et la communication, avant de décider, à 30 ans, de poursuivre son rêve en créant son entreprise. Prise. Envisageant de commercialiser en France des bijoux de créateurs mexicains, elle part au Mexique se former à la création. de bijoux. Ce fut une révélation pour celle qui ne s’était jamais imaginer. Née Manuelle. De retour en France, souhaitant continuer à progresser dans sa pratique, elle cherche en vain des cours qui ne se déroulent pas dans une école traditionnelle. C’est alors qu’elle a l’idée de créer Pause création, pour permettre à tous de s’initier ou de se perfectionner dans différentes techniques cr. Éactive. Elle propose donc de nombreux ateliers pour adultes et enfants, débutants comme confirmés. De la couture, la création de bijoux, l’art floral, ou encore tricDot et crochet. Il y en a pour tous les goûts, et pour Tous niveaux.  Les ateliers créatifs sont animés par des professionnels, les ateliers et stages Pause création s’adressent à toute personne désireuse de s’initier ou progresser dans une pratique créative. Des matinées créatives  sont également réservées aux enfants un mercredi par mois et pendant les vacances scolaires, des cours de dessin (selon la méthode du cerveau droit de Betty Edwards) et des ateliers pour apprendre à confectionner ses cosmétiques naturels.  Pause création, ce n'est pas seulement un atelier, mais également une boutique qui expose des créateurs, soigneusement sélectionnés.  Concept-store dédié à la créativité, Pause Création expose les pièces originales d’une dizaine de créatrices lyonnaises et mexicaines. Outre les bijoux de la créatrice mexicaine Tanya Moss, Pause création expose les tissages de Mes Tisses, les kits créatifs de Poussière des rues et Marigalala, les vêtements EvgeniyaS Atelier, les pochettes en cuir El Mundo de Lili ou encore les accessoires textiles Phileas Handmade. Priscilla vient par ailleurs de lancer sa propre ligne de bijoux, composés notamment de perles tissées à partir de feuille de palmier.  L’ambition de cet atelier-boutique pas comme les autres est de faire naître le partage, l’échange et la convivialité autour de la créativité et du “faire soi-même”. Il est l’heure de faire une Pause création! Ainsi, les fans de DIY et les fashionistas à la recherche de pièces uniques de créateurs.  Lumineux et convivial, Priscilla a su insuffler à son atelier-boutique un lieu unique pour les créateurs. C’est dans cette idée qu’elle a décidé une exposition de créateurs soigneusement sélectionnée pour le Christmas Market du 28 novembre 2011 au 23 décembre. Ce sera l’occasion de dénicher le cadeau parfait pour Noël ! On vous donne rendez-vous à  : Pause création, 16 rue Sully Lyon 6ème (métro Foch). Ouvert du mardi au samedi de 10h30 à 12h30 et de 14h à 19h.  Pour en savoir plus sur Pause Création Crédits Photos : Pause Création Read the full article
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thebridgehqs · 1 year
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The following need to make the below number of posts within 1 week of this check (unless on hiatus) or message the main for an extension:
@rosewaterdrunk:  One on Catherine Alexander, Elsa, Genevieve Duke, Hope Van Dyne, Katy Chen, Misaki, Nimue, Raven and River Mekhala Niranpai. Two on Vilya.
@mlndless:  One on Li Lonnie.  Two on Hunter Clarington and Glenn Rhee.
@virtuousouls: One on Jaskier, Jon Snow, Joyce Byers, Maya Lopez, Peeta Mellark, Rick Grimes, Skye Richfield, Spencer Rei, Violet Richards and Xu Xialing
@hxlcycnx:  One on Artagan, Aziraphale, Christian, Death, Din Djarin, Erik Destler, Kaiya O'Conner, Lia Beaufort, Kharas Indago, and Tanya
@totouchthcstars:  One on Giulia Marcovado, Jester Lavorre, and Lady Amalthea
@fidclium:  One on Jake Sully, Eddie Diaz, Keegan O'Conner and Rick Neven. Two on Caitriona O'Donnell, Jared Cameron, Lorenzo Crawford, Sarah Cameron and Slider.
@lcnelylcves: No comment.
@allxthingsxglxtter:  One on Aether, Caitlyn Kiramman, Carter Kazansky, Coriane Calore, Dane Whitman, Dean Winchester, Dev Dakkar, Erasmus, Jacen Solo, Jason Todd, Kai Whitlock, Kaz Brekker, Khonsu, Link, Luc, Maelstrom Adler, Maeve, Merlin, Merrin, Neil Vikander, Odysseus Pierce, Sapphire, Shaun Gilmore, Teddy Lupin, Tedros, Telemachus, Thomas, and Viktor. Two on Aeneas Fairworth, Alanna, Albus Potter, Alicia Boyd, Ahsoka Tano, Barry Allen, Bilal Belkebirs, Bucky Barnes, Cassie Anderson, Castor, Chase Slater, Chris Rodriguez, Daja Kisubo, Diego Hargreeves, Diluc Ragnvindr, Dimitri, Dof, Elias Stone, Ezra Neven, Garrett McKinnon, Gawain, Grace, Hades, Hermes, Hermione Granger, Ivan Kaminsky, Jace Herondale, Jake Stone, Joel Watson, John Watson, Jonathan Carnahan, Kida Nedakh, Leo, Lito Amana, Lyra Samos, Makkari, Malyen Oretsev, Matt Murdock, Matthias Helvar, Maven Calore, Megara, Merry Brandybuck, Michael Scofield, Morpheus, Nathan Byrne, Nil, Nile Freeman, Ophelia Langston, Patroclus, Pervival De Rolo, Percy Jackson, Pete Mitchell, Peter Pevensie, Quylla Vanity, Reid Garwin, Sage, Shade Barrow, Shang Chi, Skye Winters, Sokka, Thalia Grace, Triss Merigold, Uma, Veralidaine Sarrasri, Wayland Norwell, Xanthe Abernathy and Zahra Jaziri
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sofhtie · 3 years
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man the way hayden is objectively a better healer and more of The Party Healer™️ than cami mechanically, but it sure doesn’t FEEL like that to anyone who knows both of them bc cami is Emotionally a healer and also Responsible in a way hayden isn’t at all, makes me Insane
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neverpetal · 3 years
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HUH. crop spirals abt hugs and i do the same w kanhatu so sweetly
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sullyfortress · 1 month
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I’m an impatient fucker. A short angst comic for genderswap AU that I’m too excited about so I had to share the wip…..
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crazyk-imagine · 2 years
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It’s You Characters
SULANE CELESTE
Portrayed by Emma Roberts
"Sarcasm isn't an attitude, it's an art”
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Also known as "Sullie" by friends, old and new
"Lanie" by a certain annoying actor (according to Sulane)
"The one with the weird name" or "blonde girl" or "blonde girl with weird name" because a certain boss can't remember her name
Can't forget the food nickname, "Licorice" given to her by her old best bud
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JAMES DIAMOND
Portrayed by James Maslow
"It's hard to look at other faces when I only want to see yours”
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Goes by "James" (but would prefer to be called a certain blonde's boyfriend)
"Jaime" if Sulane is teasing/ joking about him
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CARLOS GARCIA
Portrayed by Carlos PenaVega
"You deserve someone you know you can be yourself around”
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Typically goes by "Carlos"
Also known as "Corndog" by his old bud before she moved
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HORTENSE "LOGAN" MITCHELL
Portrayed by Logan Henderson
"We don't have a lot but we've got each other”
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Stuck with "Logan" ever James' mom decided back in Minnesota
Sulane used to call him, "Science Wiz" whenever she could
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KENDALL KNIGHT
Portrayed by Kendall Schmidt
"If you’re going to try, go all the way”
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Likes "Kendall" (and being called Jo's boyfriend)
"Leader of the group" when Sulane wants to annoy him
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JASNER VERBANE
Portrayed by Chris Wood
"Everything is hard before it is easy”
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Prefers to be called "Jas"
"Annoying" something Sulane says all the time (Jasner finds it endearing) as well as "Berry Boy"
Jennifer "Mama" Knight
Portrayed by Challen Cates
Katie Knight
Portrayed by Ciara Bravo
Kelly Wainwright
Portrayed by Tanya Chrisholm
Gustavo Rocque
Portrayed by Stephen Kramer Glickman
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Janine Celeste
Portrayed by: Lisa Kudrow
Edwin Celeste
Portrayed by: Jamie Dornan
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Epigraph // Prologue
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marsjoram · 3 years
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hey kanhatu are you guys good!? What happened??
OH MAN. delighted that i got an ask like this. i will really try to be as brief and relevant as possible but i doubt this will be brief honestly 😭ok SO
background: one of our party members, Clementine (Clem), was stuck in shady shit when she was younger, and assassinated someone she didn't want to. this is years before meeting the party. cut to the party, who has been going on lots of adventures and arguably getting into more and more trouble as time goes on. then, Clem eventually attempts (and fails) to assassinate the king for her patron, Catalyst. Clem is now an extremely wanted criminal and the party is too by association.
the party is now constantly hiding and is also sought after by a figure known as The Reverend, who demands Clem be put to justice for a crime irrelevant to the king, an older crime she committed. Clem turns herself in after The Reverend kills a party member, Tanya, and threatens to kill more if Clem doesn't submit. Clem's patron Catalyst apologizes to Clem for the trouble and promises them a favor.
Tanya, the killed party member, is resurrected with the use of a magical sword, and the party goes on to eventually find the town that Clem is held captive in, where she is about to be executed. using the remaining power in the sword, Clem asks for her favor from Catalyst to wish for the party's names to be cleared. this specific wish results in the entire party's adventures being rewritten, and all the memories of our time together fading almost instantly. everyone disappears from the scene. we have no idea what happened to the party members Dawn, Hayden, Tanya, and Paloma. the only characters we know a little about the current whereabouts of are Clem and Sully.
brief backstory about Sully: years before meeting the party, he was a fairly known religious figure, who was murdered in his sleep one night (and was later resurrected by his new patron).
cut to the current events, after Clem wishes for their names to be cleared: we flash back to years ago, when Clem assassinated the person she was pushed to assassinate; surprise! it was Sully. but in order to clear their name, Clem's wish has made it so she's no longer killed Sully, and Sully wakes up as if from a bad dream. Clem wakes up in...some kind of...circle? and it. seems like she may be dead. i don't think we fully know yet.
sorry. the shorter answer to your question was no
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basicjetsetter · 3 years
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Part I
♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader
▹ Warnings: Mild Language, Triggering Content
▹ Words: 4.6k
▹ A/N: Buckle in. This is going to be a long ride.
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“No way!” Your friend Manda squeals. “Those were the exact words?!”
You smoosh a frantic hand over Manda’s mouth and shush her, then slightly pop up from your seat to scope out the packed bus, making sure none of your schoolmates heard her outburst. To your relief, only a few close students glance over with little interest and barely anyone in a wider radius catches Manda’s words over the buzzing clammer of other conversations. Blowing out a satisfied exhale, you turn back to your friend, removing your hand from her mouth with a teasingly reproachful frown. 
“Tell the whole world, why don’t you?” 
She giggles, “My bad. But can you blame me? This is huge!”
Thrilled warmth floods into your cheeks from her enthusiasm. She’s right. This is huge, and you might have secretly sought this exact reaction because only Manda’s trademark, earsplitting squeal stamps news with the seal of authenticity. It’s real. You heard your Destined Words.
The same jitters from when you woke up this morning skitter up and down your spine, sharpening your senses to the max, making it easier to recall the words that floated into your subconscious—words from a bodiless voice. Your Soulmate.
I’ve got you.
Your mind handles the precious words like a porcelain tea set, carefully deciphering the voice pitch and attempting to match it to a face, knowing its efforts lie in vain because the words’ owner only becomes apparent when they speak them to you.
Some inner part of you distinctly translates the words into a comforting assurance, an assurance one might receive after coming home from a long day’s work and walking into the soft embrace of a lover. It weaves itself around your mind like a consoling safety net, painting an image of a lover better than you’ve ever imagined and everything you’ve ever hoped for.
You couldn’t have hand-picked a better day than today, Midtown High’s field trip to the MoMA, to gush over the words with Manda while admiring spectacular, thought-provoking art pieces. One of the perks of going to Midtown High is their fantastic field trips. You circled this Friday on your calendar at the start of the semester because while you loved being in a school centered around technological sciences, you were excited to study artists’ colorful, eclectic expressions and how their cultural personalities materialize in the stroke of a paintbrush.
“You’re so lucky,” Manda says, trying to pull off a pout. Her vibrant smile triumphs. “Only three days after you turn eighteen, and you hear your Destined Words. I’ve got four more months before I file a complaint.”
You sympathetically rub her shoulder, her oversized, long-sleeved denim jacket rough to the touch. “It’ll come. Just don’t wait for it.”
“Oh, I know it’s coming. I just want it to be something as cute as yours, you know.” She shudders, “My cousin Alonzo said his Destined Words were ‘Sure, whatever.’ Can you imagine that? Finally being mature enough for your Soulmate and that’s the first thing they say to you? I mean, sure, he and Tanya are super cute together, but ugh. Those words?”
You snicker, “Let me guess. You’re expecting a grand gesture?”
Manda nods with a dead serious face, though she could never truly pull it off with her full lips and Cabbage Patch Doll cheeks. She’d have a better chance at getting away with murder than intimidating someone with her cute little frown. “If I don’t hear the words ‘Where have you been all my life, you breathtaking, drop-dead gorgeous goddess,’ then I’m demanding a full refund.”
You blankly stare at each other for a beat before you crack, both of you laughing until your sides ache and you’re gasping for air, not caring for the teachers' hushes from the front of the bus.
“I just can’t believe I finally hear the words, you know,” you say as the laughs fade. “It’s like a fairytale come true.” You lean your head against the cool glass window, watching the placid cerulean waves come into view as the bus drives onto a bridge. “I wonder what they’re like, if I know them. If they’re nice. My mom says she already had a mega crush on my dad, so when he said the words, it already felt like they were together.”
Manda sighs dreamily. “I bet they’re cute. And super smart. Those words seem kind of thoughtful, too, so that’s a bonus. And, hey, don’t worry so much.” She gently knocks her shoulder against yours. “They’re going to love you.”
You weren’t scared that they wouldn’t love you. Everyone who finds their Soulmate never doubts that that is their person. What pins a tiny knot of anxiety to the pit of your stomach is how it will happen.
As a young girl, you spent countless nights dreaming of the sequential events leading up to the day you finally met your Soulmate, orchestrating the moment like a scene from all the rom-coms you binged. Your person accidentally bumps into you either in a hallway or on the bus or in the lunch-line, gazes deep into your dazed eyes, then declares their love for you with some cliché phrase before scooping you into their arms and planting a kiss on your expectant lips.
I’ve got you.
The sweet words drifting in your head do their best to ease away the anxiety. You have nothing to worry about. The meeting will play out the way you fantasized, if not better. All because of those words.
“We’re all gonna die!” Ned Leeds shouts from the middle of the bus.
All heads snap to the right windows. In an instant, densely packed bodies swarm from the left side to the right, sandwiching together to search for what Ned was staring at, some opening the windows and craning their necks for a better look. You grunt as someone digs their elbow in your ribcage to see more, and you tensely shove them against the back of the seats in front of you before peering out of your window.
It’s a sight no eyes could miss. A large, metal donut levitates in the clear sky, an obstruction not there mere seconds ago. You gasp in wonder, but not fear. Surely, the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes, will have this taken care of before the sun sets.
The bus driver, an old man with a smile as sly as a fox and pearly white hair, casually calls out, “What’s the matter with you kids?! You’ve never seen a spaceship before?”
“He’s got a point,” you shrug as Manda gapes at the driver with incredulous eyes, then rounds on you as you calmly sit back down. “We always get so worked up over these aliens, and nothing ever really happens. The Avengers got it handled.”
“You sure? Because that looks a little menacing.” Manda worries at her lower lip, anxiously sneaking peeks out the window. Many students stay plastered to the scene.
“Positive.”
✦ ✧✦ ✧
The appearance of the metal donut effectively sullies your experience of the MoMA. None of the tour guides thoroughly explain the paintings' and sculptures' meanings or historical relevance. Instead, they string together incoherent sentences about person, place, and time as they gape at the video feeds live-streamed to their phones. Even Manda stays glued to her screen, chewing on her lower lip so hard you're surprised she hasn't punctured it.
Fifteen minutes into the tour, aggravation chafes into you like sandpaper, rubbing your skin raw. You waited months for this trip. Months! You'd be damned if a few pesky aliens took this special day away from you. You weren’t afraid. You had no reason to be.
Fed up, you take matters into your own hands and stealthily break away from the group, tip-toeing back to an intriguing wall of paintings and observe it by yourself. 
One painting catches your eye early, drawing you to the middle of the wall to study it further. Its tag reads The Lovers, René Magritte, Paris, 1928, Surrealism, Oil Painting. There are two people, a man and a woman, painted with white cloths shrouding their faces as they share a seemingly intimate kiss. You lean in closer, noting the almost murky atmosphere and how it lends to the mystery of the kiss. What did Magritte want you to think when you analyzed this piece? What questions did she want you to ask? 
You derive two: Is love mysterious and complicated as the atmosphere suggests, or is it intuitive and straightforward as the veiled lovers suggest? And, would the love still be the same once they lift the veils?
Beep. Beep. Beep. All the phones in hearing range chime out three urgent trills, nearly ejecting your soul out of your body. Clearing your head with a shake, you pull your phone out of your back pocket. You don't even have to unlock it. The news alert flashes up like a hazard light. Tony Stark Missing.
You blink. What the hell is going on?
"Are you seeing this?" Manda whispers, sidling up to your side.
You nod, at a loss for words. Iron Man is missing? How? What happened? Did it have something to do with the metal donut? 
You blink harder and take another long look at the notification, hoping it was a typo or missing a few words, words like Tony Stark Missing Iron Man Suit. Hell, even Tony Stark Missing Cheeseburgers. Anything but what's on your screen.
Somewhere in the background, Mrs. Kramer, your Art teacher, roll-calls the students to the front entrance. "Okay, guys, time to cut the field trip short."
Your shoulders sag. This can't be happening. Is it really that serious?
"Peter? Peter?" Mr. Dell calls out, clenching onto a clipboard with shaking hands. "Has anybody seen Parker? Peter Parker?" he inquired, looking over the students' heads. A bead of sweat gathers on his forehead, even though there is virtually no heat in the building, and it's a breezy, 72-degree late-spring afternoon in New York City. "Where does this kid always sneak off to?"
Ned stuttered out, "He, uhm, Pe-Peter left early, sir. Family emergency."
"An emergency? Was it so important he couldn't at least notify the supervisors?" Ned bobbed his head up and down, keeping his eyes stapled to the floor in a manner that hinted at no further comment. Mr. Dell huffs, "Alright. But he's getting detention, and I have half a mind to put you in there with him, Leeds."
Ned's face screws up in a chastised grimace. "Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again."
Your eyes linger on Ned as he pulls out his phone and rapidly taps at the screen, probably sending a strongly worded text to his best friend, rebuking Peter for roping him into his antics and nearly earning him a week's detention. You don't know much about their friendship, but they appear tied to the hip at school. 
Ned's a nice guy. Reliant to a tee. You had the pleasure of partnering with him on an art project in Kramer's class a few weeks back, spending a considerable amount of time joking while diligently rendering an interpretation of Van Gogh's A Starry Night on a five-by-five foot canvass. During that time, he often complimented your paint-smeared overalls and your hair's ever-changing up-dos. He seemed like such a great friend to have.
Peter, on the other hand, is a tough nut to crack.
You only ever shared one class with Peter Parker. Spanish last semester. You remember him being too antsy for your liking, always checking his watch impatiently, answering questions too fast, bouncing his leg up and down, acting like he had someplace better to be and better things to do. His impatience never made sense to you until you heard some girls in the locker-room whispering about his Stark internship and how lucky he was to be working for the Tony Stark. 
When the internship suddenly halted, and Peter landed himself in the longest detention sentence you'd ever heard of, you started to take more notice of him only because he was around more often. He was sort of cute in a boy-next-door kind of way with his science pun tee-shirts and smooth, tousled brown hair. For a brief time, you fleetingly considered asking him to Homecoming, but the futility of such a question wasn't lost on you. He noticeably crushed on Liz Toomes, and you were confident Peter's pining for her meant destiny twined their paths.
But Liz is gone now, and there's a growing 90 percent chance Peter's set his sights on MJ. Brooding quirky girl ending up with boy-next-door, now that match made perfect sense, just like a rom-com, or even better, an 80's teen romance.
Manda tugs on your arm, her hands forming a shackle around your wrist. "Come on. They're getting back on the bus without us."
Sure enough, you two were nearly the last ones in the entrance, the remaining students filing out of the door. You rush after them and reach the bus doors right before they shut, huffing in unison. Manda doubles over and grasps her knees, heaving.
"Here," you gasp. "We're here."
Your driver tuts, swinging the doors back open. "Good thing you two made it in time. This bus waits for no one, not even me. Come on," he says, waving you inside. "Let's get this show on the road."
You trudge back to your designated seats, collapsing against the plastic covering as the adrenaline subsides, replaced with the forgotten dread of the trip's abrupt end. You lean over and peer out the left side windows when the bus rolls over the bridge again, surprise rattling ominously over your bones as you find the metal donut gone from the sky.
Where did it go? Did the Avengers get rid of it?
Your hand still clamps your phone. An annoying, slight tremble in your hands trips up your fingers as they try to type in your passcode, but you succeed on the fourth try. You scroll through your social media, hoping beyond hope that someone captured the Avengers' victory or something close to a victory, something that proves the news headline wrong. Stark's probably lying low, too beat down to show his face to the press.
The far-fetched lie makes you internally flinch. You don't know much about the guy, but you're more than a thousand percent sure Stark wouldn't hide from the press if he won anything.
A sinking horror clogs your chest as you obsessively watch clip after clip, onlookers recording some unconscious guy in a red cape being invisibly bound and trailing after the commanding hand of an elongated, greyish-blue alien. Spider-Man tries to get the red-caped guy back, swinging through the city and dodging billboards, his webs clinging to the departing ship's underside, Iron Man flying into the sky after them.
It’s bad. Oh, sweet heavens, it’s bad.
Maybe it’s not that much of a big deal. Yeah. Yeah, it’s probably nothing. The end of the videos suggested the Avengers gained the upper hand on the fight, so maybe, just maybe, the alien was fleeing—fleeing… with a captive. Hurtling off into God knows where with Iron Man and Spider-Man onboard.
It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. 
Your back flattens to your seat and your unseeing eyes meld to your phone, the thunderous beats of your heart stifling the rest of the world into silence. The air is thinning. 
Your ears are buzzing. 
A vice clenches your chest.
It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. 
The dubious mantra and vague words of your Soulmate blend into an all-consuming cacophony of words, gelling together in a chant of solace. 
It’s fine. I’ve got you. It’s fine. I’ve got you. It’s fine.
By the time the bus drops off the students at Midtown and you and Manda quietly walk in the direction of home, the mixture of affirmations fans away the panic settling around your chest, bringing back a semblance of your earlier confidence, or rather, what was left of it, which wasn't much.
Outside the apartment complex, an overwhelming amount of residents’ windows glow, most of them probably stuck to their couch, replaying the recent events on any major news network and speculating the whereabouts of our mightiest heroes.
It takes a while to dawn on you that you and Manda are the only ones standing outside. On the entire block.
Nothing stirs. Even the bodega on the corner appears closed for the day.
It's five o'clock on a Friday afternoon and there’s plenty of light left.
Emptiness pours out of every alley like ink spilling from a broken bottle, blotting the whole surface of the street with the absence of human activity. A tree's rustling leaves are so startling your breath locks up and you jump. Manda doesn't say anything, recovering from the sudden noise herself.
Leaving the deserted streets behind, you and Manda glumly walk up the steps of your apartment complex and up to your residence on the third floor. The apartment is eerily silent as you toss your keys on the kitchen counter and lock the door behind Manda.
"When are your folks getting back from their honeymoon again?" asks Manda, shrugging out of her jacket and toeing off her sneakers, leaving them propped against the wall by the door.
Habit controls your body as you open the fridge, grab two Sprites, set them down on the counter, then reach for the half-finished bucket of Red Vines from the top cabinet shelf. "Sunday morning, I think. They only have the weekend off. Want some pizza? I can call up Joe's."
"Please and thank you," she says, plopping down on the couch. The old thing croaks, its springs wheezing under the unwelcomed weight.
The maroon monstrosity is a family heirloom, dating back to your grandparents' time. Mom loves it, claiming it adds the right amount of character to the drab living space, knowing fully well that anyone with fashion sense would never describe any space she inhabits as drab. Dad is adamant that it's one spill away from handing in its resignation.
Picking up your house phone, you confirm, "Extra-large cheese and olives?"
You don't know why you ask. Ever since the inception of your infamous best friend "crash-overs," cheese and olive pizza starred as the staple meal: that, and a bucket of Red Vines your dad occasionally steals from. Maybe you asked for normalcy or maybe to confirm Manda's plan to stay for the rest of the night. What you do know is you don’t want to be alone.
She hums a distracted yes, turning on the TV and upping the volume to listen to Channel 10's news reporter recount the fight between Iron Man and the alien.
Though already burned in your memory, the images douse your body in bone-chilling fear.
You turn your back and dial in the order, not at all surprised that Joe's is still up and running. Once the employee confirms your order and promises a speedy delivery, you grab the drinks and candy and place them on the coffee table, ignoring the TV.
"C-can you turn it to something else?" you quickly pipe up as you sit next to Manda, unsuccessfully hiding the tremor in your words. "I don't think I can stomach the news right now."
"Yeah, sure." Slow and reluctant, Manda switches the input and goes into Netflix. "Anything you wanna watch?"
"Teen Wolf."
Manda groans, "Again? We've seen that a million times."
"Oh, come on," you groan back, playfulness strained in your words. "It's a classic. You can't say no to a classic."
She gives you a dour frown, one that still couldn't land an inch of seriousness on her amber-colored cherub cheeks, until she relents from the weight of your puppy dog eyes.
"Fine, but only because of Michael J. Fox. Next time, I'm picking."
Neither of you really pay attention to the movie or touch the pizza when it arrives. In fact, for most of the night, Manda scrolls through her social media, watching what you can only assume are today’s events. Sometimes she’d put the phone down when you politely asked, but it unfailingly ended up right back in her hands, so after a while, you stop asking. When the movie’s end credits roll around, and you dress into your pajamas, put away the remaining slices of pizza, and call it a night, both of you climb into your bed. She is still scrolling.
You try and force yourself into REM sleep, keeping your eyes shut until you hear Manda’s heavy breathing beside you. The clock on your nightstand reads 9:53 p.m.
Yawning, you curl up into a tight ball on your side of the bed and wish your mom and dad were here to help you get out of your head. Manda can’t do it when she’s so caught up in hers, and you don’t think you’d be able to tell her how scared you are. It’d only scare her more.
Tony Stark is missing. Manda would have screeched her head off by now if anything changed.
I’ve got you.
Yeah, but Tony Stark, the freaking Iron Man, is missing.
I’ve got you.
You can’t possibly understand how bad this is.
I’ve got you.
You audibly huff against the reassuring words, but they eventually do the trick in temporarily pushing the worry away, allowing you to fitfully slip into dreamless oblivion.
Seven hours later, you wake to a text from your mom. The sunlight is so bright in your room you lower your phone’s brightness all the way down, squinting at the small letters.
-Coming home early bbygrl. Dad says hi and he misses you lots hunny bun. xx
A titanic-sized weight lifts off of your shoulders—something you hadn’t even known was there until you re-read your mom’s text and verify the timestamp.
They’re on their way home, where it’s safe and you can all keep an eye on each other. Niagara Falls is just a six and a half-hour drive from here and Mom texted two hours ago, so they’ve got a couple hundred miles left. You don’t care about the distance. As long as they’re coming home, you’re fine. You can wait.
The morning’s activities in your residence pass into a weird déjà vu of last night. Manda is awake before you, sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal in her lap and the TV turned on to Channel 10, the volume slightly lower from last night. A bit peeved, you ask her to switch it to some cartoons while you pour yourself a bowl of Frosted Flakes.
She goes back to scrolling on her phone, sparingly taking bites of her soon-turned soggy cereal. You perch on the arm of the couch, far away from Manda's screen, and munch on your cereal in silence. This whole situation sucks enough without Manda’s constant doom-scrolling, but her utter silence is wearing your nerves thin.
Three full episodes of SpongeBob play on before you heave tempered sigh and set your finished bowl of cereal on the table and face Manda.
“Do you have to do that?”
She doesn’t even spare you a glance. “Do what?”
Unbidden anger flows through you like magma spewing from a freshly erupted volcano, flaming into your veins and flaring your heart rate as you yank her phone away and toss it behind the couch.
Manda stares at you like you’ve lost your mind. She may be partially right.
“Why the hell did you do that?”
You scoff, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe I like talking to my friend once in a while. Maybe it’s mentally damaging to watch the same thing over and over and over again, and I was just trying to save you from brain rot.” You stand up and cross your arms over your chest, letting the rage propel your words. “Seriously Manda, give it a damn rest.”
“Why?” Manda crosses her arms too, glowering up at you, close to achieving a convincing frown. “Because you’re ‘positive’ nothing’s going to happen, right? It’s just aliens. No prob.”
You hold your tongue, waiting for her to air out all her frustrations because she’s right. She’s right to throw your words back at you. Yesterday morning you were totally sure of the Avengers, and not much has changed. You still firmly believe they’ll win whatever this fight is with the aliens, but you know scrolling through your phone for updates won’t do anything but boost your anxiety, like it’s doing to Manda.
When you think the coast is clear to speak, you lowly say, “I get it.”
“You get it? You get it? No, mama, you don’t get it. Because, see, if you got it, my phone wouldn’t be collecting dust behind your couch!”
“You needed a break, Amanda!” You shout back at her. “That phone’s never left your hand since you got here.”
She snaps her fingers as if she reached an epiphany. “Attention. That’s what it is. I haven’t given you enough attention today and you’re feeling left out of the spotlight. Newsflash, hon, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Other things are happening besides you hearing your Destined Words.”
“Wh-what?” you balk. “That… no, that’s not what this is about.” You’re not even sure where she even came up with the conclusion that you needed something as stupid as attention right now. Did she think you were that self-centered?
She cocks her eyebrow challengingly, “Alright, then tell me what it is. I’m all ears.”
“Me hearing my freaking soulmate has nothing to do with this! Nothing! And I’m not some attention-starved lunatic. Christ, Manda,” you roll your eyes, letting your hands fall with a slap against your sides. “It’s about you watching the news all day like… like this is the end of the world or something. We’ve gone through this. New York has gone through this. Alien attacks are nothing new, and I’m tired so sick and tired of you…”
You slow down, raising a soft hand to your chest—strange, tugging sensations sprout somewhere deep, deep down within you. So deep you're not sure it's actually there.
“Sick and tired of me what? What?” Manda pressed, the almost-frown lessening as your head tilts. “What’s wrong?”
You gradually shake your head. There’s no conceivable way to articulate what’s happening to you because it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You feel… tingly, like every single hair follicle on your arms and legs rise, standing on high alert.
“Something’s not right.”
The tugging intensifies dully. You gasp against it, desperately clawing at the front of your shirt with the pads of your fingers, seeking to protect something tangibly nonexistent. It’s like someone’s fingers pinch a taut guitar string inside your chest, pulling on it with increasing pressure, pulling it further and further until it can’t move an inch, holding it the apex in a deathly promise that, with one final tug, the string will give.
I’ve got you.
Everything happens within a second.
You whimper out an anguished yelp as the string abruptly snaps.
Manda leaps to her feet and grasps your shoulders, begging to help.
Then, right before your eyes, Manda’s body begins to dissolve.
“M-Manda...? Amanda, wait! NO!”
She falls away into a pile of ash on your floor.
You drop to your knees, screaming.
And so does the rest of the world.
...
Part II
50 notes · View notes
et-lesailes · 5 years
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lily white in blood red // chapter one
prologue
pairing: curtis everett x reader
word count: 1750
series summary: you are a part of the upper-middle section aboard snowpiercer, but you do not agree with the classist views of the people you are surrounded by. when the infamous curtis everett reaches your part of the train, you decide you want to join him in overthrowing the train’s misguided inventor– while curtis agrees to let you join, he has other plans in mind.
series themes: angst, romance, obsession, fighting/bloodshed, smut
chapter summary: reader meets curtis for the first time.
taglist:  @viarogers , @evanstush , @chibi-crazy , @chalamet-evans , @world-of-losers ,@songforhema, @sebabestianstan101 , @tanyam93 , @bval-1, @wonderwinchester ,@little-miss-exo, @poerebel , @bitchbabes-world , @gogomez-509 , @patzammit, @jbug491, @honeyloverogers​, @fatbottomedcurls​, @whores4thor​, @jennmurawski13​,@angrybirdcr, @mcueveryday, @scooby-doodoo, @peach-acid, @tansypoisoning,@quaiderade, @a-distantdreamer, @malthestorytellerblog, @rainbowkisses31,@melannie77, @gigistorm
notes: would just like to add that in the movie, curtis has been on earth for 17 years and on snowpiercer for 17. seeing that the reader is a train baby, following this logic would make her underage, and so for the purpose of this story, the numbers work out a little differently and i want to make it clear that reader is not a minor. however, i left it slightly up to interpretation how old she really is, just so it can be more relatable for anyone who’s reading! also shoutout to @allthefandomstogether​ for THIS BEAUTIFUL GRAPHIC, thank you so much love!!!  ♡
** if you would like to be added to the taglist, please send an ask! if you would like to be removed from this series, please don’t hesitate to let me know. :)
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You do not have a lot of time to look at him. One of your fellow middle sectioners steps up right in between you and the revolution leader, ready to kill. Everything is happening so fast, it suddenly feels like your body is acting without your brain.
Your knife goes right into his neck, but it’s not Curtis’. 
The middle sectioner you had once called a friend is now dead at your feet from your own doing, his blood splattered across smooth skin and white lace. 
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Perhaps there was a time in Curtis’ life where he was carefree, cheerful, naive. Surely he must have been as a little boy, at least, considering he had nearly two decades on Earth before everything became utter chaos. Before Snowpiercer.
Now, Curtis is a rugged and grizzly man, completely hardened from his years on board. The only thing on his mind for years now has been the revolution. The plan to battle his way to the front. He has no time to think of anything or anyone else, save for his team. 
Or so he thought, anyways, until he lays eyes on you for the first time, slightly shocked upon witnessing the betrayal of one upper class passenger towards another. 
At first, he only sees your face. Beautiful eyes looking back at his, round with innocence. Healthy roseate lips, a feature simple yet so rare in the tail section due to the grime and dryness in the air. Clean, smooth, flawless skin; he cannot even see a single raised swell or tiny mark. He had forgotten that people looked like this. During the past few days of fighting his way to the front of the train, he did not bother to look at the people he was brutally murdering. It had nothing to do with guilt. He simply does not think they are even worth an inch of space in his mind, and therefore their faces do not even have to be glanced at.
As he stares at you, he is suddenly thankful that he did not apply his usual technique to this situation. 
His eyes drift down, only to linger upon the thin alabaster lace adorning your figure. He is not sure why his eyebrows furrow upon seeing such ivory stained with vermilion, as if he himself is not covered in it. Then again, there is a difference; his layers of ratty, misfitting clothes were already sullied to begin with-- while morbid, adding blood to the material did not do much damage compared to what had already been done. You, however…
He decides almost immediately that there should never be even a drop of crimson upon your skin or your clothing ever again. Nor should you ever use such a weapon again, or even hold one. 
There is silence for a few moments. Edgar and the others have helped kill off the rest. You are the only middle sectioner standing, you are the one closest to the door of the next cart. You still have your knife in your hand, but it is relaxed by your side. You are a bit shaken up, but you do not look nervous of them. 
The only people Curtis has truly cared about for a while now are Gilliam, Edgar, and Tanya. No one else fazes him, no one else has ever had a deep enough impact. When he sees you, something changes. It almost feels like instinct. 
“Why did you do that?” he asks, body still naturally tense nonetheless. He does not understand what business an upper-middle sectioner has killing one of their own, but he is genuinely intrigued. 
“Are you Curtis?” you ask, and he feels slammed in the windpipe upon hearing your voice. Soft and sweet, just like that look in your eyes-- despite the fact you just killed a man. “Yes.” He answers, eyes locked onto yours. “You know me?”
“Of course… Everyone knows you. The man who’s starting a revolution. You’re trying to get to the front.”
“Then why did you help me just now?” he asks, though more curious than suspicious. He does not want to be suspicious of you. He can’t imagine you as deceitful or crooked. Not you. He already has an entire image of you in his head without even knowing your name, without even having known you for more than one minute.
You let yourself look at him for a few moments, feeling oddly relaxed. He is definitely not a sight you are used to, yet for some reason, you already feel strangely secure around him. “In school they taught us to hate the tail section,” you admit softly, looking towards the darkness of the cold night outside the windows. “That they don’t deserve the privileges and rights we get. That there has to be a balance, and so they don’t get showers or real food or nice clothes since we do.” You glance down at your light and dainty apparel before returning your eyes to his. “But I don’t think that seems right.” 
“You’re fuckin’ right, it’s not,” Edgar pipes up in a strong Irish accent, and your eyes dart to him in curiosity. “But are you only saying that so we spare your life? Because in that case, you can join your friends here lying on the-”
Curtis silences him with a mere movement of his hand, holding it outspread towards the younger’s direction in a gesture to shush him. You are not sure whether to be impressed or nervous that it works so instantly. You look up to those ice cold eyes again, wondering what he’ll say. You know that his friend has every right to feel wary. You can’t even imagine the twisted things the front sectioners have subjected them to; you quite literally do not know what they are, because such topics are not discussed. “I want to fight,” you suddenly say, and Curtis blinks. “I want to join the revolution, I want to help you guys.” You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, and while it feels a bit unsettling, you continue standing your ground as you look up at the team leader. 
Curtis has never met someone like you before, not even on Earth. He has never been so interested in someone, so damn fascinated. Perhaps it is because he is a man- a man who has been deprived of something quite a lot of men on this world need. Though, in truth, he really has not thought about sex in the past few years. In such grim living conditions, it is not particularly a priority of his. Perhaps he’s been a little too obsessive over his scheme of revolution, but it isn’t as though there are many viable options when it comes to women in the tail section. They are just as broken and battered as he-- if anything, sleeping with them may only result in even more melancholy. 
No, he decides, still studying you intently. That is not the reason he is so enticed. At least, not the whole reason, if his subconscious has something to do with it. You have a countenance he’s never quite seen before-- or at least, in a very long time. You are not broken or battered, nor are you strong and secure. You have guts, that is for sure, but in your figure standing before him, he sees something that is incredibly rare to come by on Snowpiercer. 
Immaculacy. Purity. Naivete. Gullibility. 
He sees lily white, and it is stained by blood red. In this moment, he realizes he has another job at hand entirely. 
“You’ll come with us,” he decides, and you slowly exhale as you look to the floor. “But you won’t fight.”
“What?” Your head snaps up, and he is expecting indignance, but all he sees is confusion and perplexity. 
He is even more captivated than before. 
“You won’t fight.” He repeats, then looks around, a sense of urgency in his features. “Where do you keep your clothes? Are they here?” You slowly nod your head, pointing to the drawer underneath your bed compartment. Your clothes are custom made for you, and rotated out every now and then with new items added to the mix made by the train’s tailors, based on your style. “Change.” He demands simply, and you’re even more puzzled than before. “I-it’s just a little bit of blood, it’s not a-”
“I said change.” 
You obey instantly, upset with yourself for even responding in the first place. You lean over to open the drawer, wondering what to wear. The tailors haven’t exactly made you an outfit suited for battle and bloodshed. He sees you pausing and speaks again. “Something like what you’re wearing will do just fine. Do you have another one?” You blink, not exactly having pictured yourself participating in the revolution dressed in a nightie, but you do not want to argue. You pick up a red one and he instantly shakes his head. “Not red.” You look up at him, trying your best to read him but put it back, biting your lip. “What color, then?”
“White.” 
You’re thankful you happen to have another one, unsure how he would react if you didn’t. One day you will ask him why this matters so much, but today is not that day. You need him to trust you. “Can you, uh, turn around, maybe?” you ask shyly, and he nods his head, turning away and giving a look to the others to do the same; they are looking at him just as baffled as you are, even slightly judgmental, but they comply. It still feels awkward anyways, but you quickly slip out of your stained apparel and change into the fresh one. “Okay, I’m ready.” He turns back around and shakes his head. “Not yet.”
Stepping closer, he pulls the sleeve of his thick jacket over his hand, reaching out carefully to wipe the drying blood off your upper chest. It is still fresh enough that no water is necessary, yet he swipes his tongue over his thumb and rubs your collarbones with it, his eyes focused. 
From now on, he wants this white lace completely preserved, and he will do whatever it takes to keep it that way. “What’s your name?” he asks you, and you make eye contact with him again, a slight blush on your cheeks. “Y/N,” you answer softly, and he lets the brand roll off his tongue. 
He isn’t sure how something can sound so right.
335 notes · View notes
airlock · 4 years
Text
but here’s the part everyone’s really waiting for year after year: who are the big losers of this year’s CYL? who are the top 10 least voted for each continuity?
AKANEIAN BOTTOM 10 aka One Horse Too Many
Roberto (19)
Malledus (21)
Belf (24)
Warren (31)
Jubelo (37)
Roderick / Luke (39)
Lang (44)
Dice (45)
Dolph (46)
Macellan / Boah (48)
VALENTIAN BOTTOM 10 aka Holy Shit How Are Some Of These People Still Elligible
Halcyon (11)
Gerome (13)
Garth (16)
Grieth (19)
Barth (21)
Dolth (24)
Blake / Tatarrah (29)
Desaix (30)
Massena / Nomah (34)
Slayde (37)
JUGDRAL BOTTOM 10 aka Good Luck Recognizing These People’s Localized Names
Dalvin (11)
Veld (13)
Cimbaeth (16)
Conomoor (18)
Scipio (19)
Chagall / jugdral!Cain (21)
Hermina / Halvan / Charlot / Munnir / Amid (22)
Troude / Asaello (23)
Alva / Kutuzov (25)
Sandima (26)
ELIBE BOTTOM 10 aka Bartre Adeptly Rescues Bartre
Yoder (19)
Garret (21)
Zelot (26)
Barthe (30)
Dayan (40)
Wade (41)
Bors (44)
Larum (47)
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Kyle (110)
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omagazineparis · 12 days
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Pause création, un concept store dédié à la création
Un concept store entièrement dédié à la création, c'est ce que Ô Magazine vous propose de découvrir. C'est au cœur du 6ème arrondissement, à Lyon que nous vous donnons rendez-vous, pour partir à la rencontre de Pause Création, un atelier-boutique, qui ne vous laissera pas indifférent.  Ouvert en janvier 2016, c'est au cœur de Lyon que Pause Création vous accueille « comme à la maison », comme aime le dire Priscilla, fondatrice de Pause Créati. on. Franco-mexicaine, diplômée de l’EM Lyon, Priscilla exerce dans le marketing et la communication, avant de décider, à 30 ans, de poursuivre son rêve en créant son entreprise. Prise. Envisageant de commercialiser en France des bijoux de créateurs mexicains, elle part au Mexique se former à la création. de bijoux. Ce fut une révélation pour celle qui ne s’était jamais imaginer. Née Manuelle. De retour en France, souhaitant continuer à progresser dans sa pratique, elle cherche en vain des cours qui ne se déroulent pas dans une école traditionnelle. C’est alors qu’elle a l’idée de créer Pause création, pour permettre à tous de s’initier ou de se perfectionner dans différentes techniques cr. Éactive. Elle propose donc de nombreux ateliers pour adultes et enfants, débutants comme confirmés. De la couture, la création de bijoux, l’art floral, ou encore tricDot et crochet. Il y en a pour tous les goûts, et pour Tous niveaux.  Les ateliers créatifs sont animés par des professionnels, les ateliers et stages Pause création s’adressent à toute personne désireuse de s’initier ou progresser dans une pratique créative. Des matinées créatives  sont également réservées aux enfants un mercredi par mois et pendant les vacances scolaires, des cours de dessin (selon la méthode du cerveau droit de Betty Edwards) et des ateliers pour apprendre à confectionner ses cosmétiques naturels.  Pause création, ce n'est pas seulement un atelier, mais également une boutique qui expose des créateurs, soigneusement sélectionnés.  Concept-store dédié à la créativité, Pause Création expose les pièces originales d’une dizaine de créatrices lyonnaises et mexicaines. Outre les bijoux de la créatrice mexicaine Tanya Moss, Pause création expose les tissages de Mes Tisses, les kits créatifs de Poussière des rues et Marigalala, les vêtements EvgeniyaS Atelier, les pochettes en cuir El Mundo de Lili ou encore les accessoires textiles Phileas Handmade. Priscilla vient par ailleurs de lancer sa propre ligne de bijoux, composés notamment de perles tissées à partir de feuille de palmier.  L’ambition de cet atelier-boutique pas comme les autres est de faire naître le partage, l’échange et la convivialité autour de la créativité et du “faire soi-même”. Il est l’heure de faire une Pause création! Ainsi, les fans de DIY et les fashionistas à la recherche de pièces uniques de créateurs.  Lumineux et convivial, Priscilla a su insuffler à son atelier-boutique un lieu unique pour les créateurs. C’est dans cette idée qu’elle a décidé une exposition de créateurs soigneusement sélectionnée pour le Christmas Market du 28 novembre 2011 au 23 décembre. Ce sera l’occasion de dénicher le cadeau parfait pour Noël ! On vous donne rendez-vous à  : Pause création, 16 rue Sully Lyon 6ème (métro Foch). Ouvert du mardi au samedi de 10h30 à 12h30 et de 14h à 19h.  Pour en savoir plus sur Pause Création Crédits Photos : Pause Création Read the full article
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