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momolady · 4 months

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Art the Orc

If you live in a small town, maybe you'll know this place. It's a little art store run by the same family for ages. It's not changed in all that time either. Picture it, feel it, you know it's the only place that sells that one supply you like. Now, imagine an orc behind the counter. Female Reader x Male Monster

The visage of the old place looked like it had once been a gas station. There was one of those big metal awnings and signs that gas pumps had once been outside. But everything else looked like the art supply store it was. The window was painted, done up with flowers and a flourishing font, but it hadn’t been touched in ages and was chipping and weathering away.

The old place had seen better days, you could tell. But you were excited to tackle such a special project with your own two hands.

Inside the place had a familiar smell of paint thinner, book pages, and coffee. You looked around the front as the bells on the door chimed. The old floor had seen better days and was worn out where you stood, even the welcome mat was hard to read.

“Welcome to Greengold Creative Station,” the deep voice came from behind the front desk where there was an open door. ‘I’ll be out with you in just a moment.”

“Take your time,” you replied. You continued to look around, noting the mismatched shelving and thrown together renovations dotting the place.

A moment later, a large orc came from the back. He was wearing thick glasses and had on a corded cardigan that covered a paint splattered t-shirt.

“Can I help you find anything?” He asked as he adjusted his glasses.

You approached the front desk again, extending your hand to him. “Hi! You must be Mr. Greengold, I’m from Regency Renovations.”

There was a surprised look upon his face as he shook your hand. “You’re the renovator?”

You smiled, half expecting some reservation based on your appearance. “I specialize in business and storefront renovations. That is what you wanted, correct, Mr. Greengold?”

He fumbled with his words for a moment, stuttering, touching his glasses until he spoke. “Call me Art, please.”

You held it in, but he knew where your mind went.

“It’s short for Arthur, but it's also my dad’s name so my mom calls me Art. Yes, I know, ha ha, very fun. A man named Art runs the art store.”

“It’s an easy target.” You tried to squash your giggling but a few came out.

He sighed and shook his head. “So, you’ll be handling the whole store. I want it updated completely. It was fine for my parents, but I need to bring in a new generation of artists and online shopping is destroying us.”

“It’s a common issue, Art,” you didn’t look at him as you said his name. “I already have some ideas brewing and I would be happy to discuss your thoughts for the business with you.”

He sighed heavily, gazing out at a store that was once his family’s legacy. “I would say I would like to keep some of what my parents did to this place, but I don’t think any of it is salvageable.”

“Well recycling is a thing.” You replied. “Like some of these old shelves, the wood can be reused to create a rustic facade for the front desk here.” You patted the worn out formica top. “And the vintage signage out from can be reused and framed, hung just right behind you there.”

Art made a face. “You can do all that.”

You returned his face, adding a smug smile to it. “I can do lots of things, Art. My father was a carpenter and my mother was a viper. Be careful of what you inflict about me.” You patted your chest proudly. You knew you were small and chubby, not many people expected much out of you, but your work spoke for itself. And that was how you told people off.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “I have a lot riding on this so-”

“So you hired the best. That I can promise you. Now I know you said you didn’t have a lot of funds, but I already have my plans made for how to help you with that. I plan on doing most of the work on my own, but for heavy lifting and other things-”

“I don’t mind helping with that,” he said with a shake of his head.

You had planned to bring in your brother for help, he enjoyed the destruction part of your job and he worked for free food. “Well uh…if you’d like Art, I wouldn’t say no.”

“I wouldn’t want you getting hurt on the job. It would be best if I helped out,” he said.

You couldn’t tell if he was being kind or underestimating you again, so you brushed it off and continued. “I would also like to film the process of the renovation. Stuff like that will help reach your new audience.”

He frowned, and his thick brows pinched together. “You must be joking.”

“I am not. You’d be surprised what the kids these days are watching.” You smirked up at him. “I know what I am doing, Art. Have some faith.”

His face read: easier said than done.

Discussion and planning was always the hard bit. You had to convince your employer of what needed to be done. Art was hesitant about some things, after all it was a family business and a place he had grown up in. But for the most part he was willing to go along with some of your ideas.

Art started the clean up process by first putting away his stock and setting most of the mismatched shelves outside. Once that was taken care of you began ripping up the old carpet and ancient linoleum.

“I remember when my dad put that stuff down,” Art said from behind you.

You looked up, eyes covered by goggles and mouth surrounded by one of those thick industrial masks. “Oh really?”

Art gave you a look. “Is all that necessary?”

“You’d be surprised.” You stacked another chunk of the linoleum to the side. “Lots of debris and who-knows-what is under these old floors. Decades of dirty shoes, dust, skin, and life are stored here.”

Art’s grimace deepened. “Skin?”

“Oh yeah, we shed like mad,” you laughed. “If you have dust in your house you can be assured it came from you!”

Art looked perturbed by this revelation but he continued in moving stock to the back and other store property outside.

Once the flooring was removed, you accessed what was underneath. It wasn’t marble or granite, but it was some type of stony tile that had existed when it was a gas station.

“Mom said it was inhospitable.”

You used a dust cloth to clean off a bit of the flooring. “But it’s easy to clean, and it’ll make the whole place appear brighter and bigger.” You turned and looked back at him, taking off the goggles. “It’ll be so much better in the long run. Plus! You won’t have to buy anything new except maybe a rug or two if you wanted.”

Art’s pinched brow was becoming the norm to see, but you could tell it was because the gears behind it were working so hard to process everything going on.

Once the tiles were cleaned and all the old flooring was hauled off to the dump, you started working on the walls, taking down slapdash shelving, and anything else hanging up. The old paint job, or jobs really, were layered on so thick and hadn’t been properly done. They had painted over the trim and electrical outlets, all of which needed to be replaced. The holes in the walls needed fixing too, and there were a few dents and scrapes from the years.

“You’re not hiring a painter?” Art asked one day.

You zipped up your coveralls and turned around to face him. “Not unless you want to shell out twice the money. Besides, I’m a good painter. A great painter even! Maybe not Rembrandt or anything, but I can handle a roller better than most.”

Art looked over your paint supplies. After days of you working on freeing the electric sockets and scraping the excess from the trim you could finally start working. You were painting the wall white, but you had found cheap sticker tiles to create a great accent wall, which could then be used for photo opportunities and special displays. Then another wall would also be painted white and used to display local artists and projects from the art class that Art taught.

“Mom always wanted to put wallpaper up,” Art murmured. “But said it wouldn’t be practical with everything we needed to hang up.”

There was a melancholy to Art’s face and tone as he said this. “What kind?” You asked as you poured your paint into the tray. “We could always find something close to what she had in mind for the office.”

Art glanced over his shoulder then shook his head. “I doubt I could afford it. I tried looking already.”

You put the roller into the paint, sliding it back and forth until it wasn’t too soupy. “Was this place your mom’s idea?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze going all about the store. “I can’t believe how empty it is now.”

“It’ll be full again in no time.” You gave him a reassuring smile when his amber eyes returned to you. “Do you have any pictures of your mother you would want to hang up?” you asked. “I can plan a special place for it.”

He huffed, seeming put off by this suggestion. “Excuse me. The smell of this paint is giving me a headache.” He walked off, stomping his feet a little as he went.

Art came back by the time you were finished with the first coat of white. You were sitting in front of the checkout desk, leaned back against it so your foot propped the door open. He stepped over your leg and looked at your work.

“The white really makes this place look…different,” he murmured.

“Don’t worry, there will be some color back soon enough,” you sighed. “Is your headache gone?”

Art nodded, leaning against the desk. “Sorry if I’ve been…obstinate.”

You waved it off. “I’m used to you.”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve been questioning and judging everything, all because I never really wanted to do this.”

You tilted your head up to look at him. “Then why are you?”

He let out that heavy, burdened sigh again. “Because it was in her will.”

You clicked your tongue. “Oh.”

“She left me money, but only if I used a portion of it to renovate the old store. She said it was mine after all, it deserved to reflect the new generation. Even in death she was still hinting I get married.” He scoffed at this, but he still had a smile on his face.

“Sounds pretty motherly.” You stood up from the ground, standing beside him. Not feeling much taller than you did sitting beside his great size. You motioned to the front window. “Did she paint that?”

Art laughed. “No. I did. That’s why she kept it so long.”

Your smile beamed. “Really? That’s pretty adorable.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “For years upon years I’ve looked at that painting and wished every day she would wash it off and do something different. But I suppose her sentimentality was far too deep for that.”

“It’s a good painting,” you offered.

“I never thought she’d keep it so I barely tried,” he grunted and crossed his arms against his chest. “Boy, was I wrong.”

“Would you like to paint the new display? I was planning on just hanging a new sign and leaving the window clean.”

“I don’t know,” he muttered.

You patted his arm, and his eyes darted down to your hand, his brows unpinching for that one moment.

“I’ll wait till you decide then.” You stepped away from him, but his eyes still lingered on where you had touched him.

A few days later, as you were working on putting the sticker tile onto the wall, Art came from the back and offered you a ticket.

“A friend of mine has a gallery showing tonight. He gave me two tickets so I thought-” He hesitated and cleared his throat.

“How fancy is the affair?” You asked.

“Nothing too fancy. I mean, dress up, but not like black tie event or anything.” He cleared his throat again. “I was going to get dinner at my favorite restaurant since it was close by if you wanted to come.”

It clicked and you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed and your mouth started to go dry. “Oh. Sure.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. “If that’s the case, maybe we should go in together. You know? Save the earth and stuff.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Smart idea. How about I pick you up tonight. Say…around six? Since the gallery is at eight?”

You nodded, biting down on your lip. “Yeah. Perfect. That should give me enough time to get ready after work.”

Art turned awkwardly away then back towards you. “Oh I uh, I guess I should get your address.” You traded info and the rest of the day went by in a jerky, tense sort of way.

That evening you waited in your living room until you heard from Art. You were wearing your favorite dress, and had even gotten your next door neighbor to do your makeup. You got his message and went downstairs to meet him at the front door.

Art was dressed nice in a dark purple suit and he had his long hair slicked back and tied into a bun. He didn’t have on his glasses, which surprised you. His eyes lit up when he saw you.

“Wow, you look great!” He said, a touch breathless.

You blushed and smiled. “Thanks. You look pretty great too. I’m not used to seeing you without your glasses.”

“Yeah, contacts tonight,” he said shyly. He then took your hand and led you to his car.

The restaurant was nice, the two of you had a clumsy start to it, but eventually you both started having an in depth conversation about color. From there, you both laughed and joked around, having a good time with great food and even better wine.

From there you walked to the gallery, meeting his friend then roaming through the show. Her artwork was lovely, but you noticed Art’s pinch brow had returned.

“A lot more nudes than I expected,” he whispered.

“I think it’s nice,” you replied. “I can see what her intent with the motif is. How it’s classic, it's natural, but also subversive.” You turned to Art, noticing him fidgeting and adjusting himself.

“Yes. I understand what she is doing,” he muttered. “I must have had just a little too much wine I think.”

You smiled at him, chuckling as your cheeks grew warm.

The car windows were fogged over, and in the dark all you could do was touch. His kisses felt rough but intimate. His tusks brushed against your skin, making your shiver. Every so often the darkness was halted by the motion light of the parking lot turning on. You’d still for a moment, then continue on with your youthful antics.

“We should stop.”

“We should.”

“Why aren’t we?”

“It’s hard.”

“Very hard.”

You kissed Art and breathed, looking into his eyes while you clasped your hands around his face. Maybe it was the wine or the nudes on display, maybe it was weeks of working so close and holding back so long.

“It’s hard.”

“Very hard.”

You smiled at him, kissing him again while his hands moved below. Your panties were pushed aside, his zipper brushed against your thigh. Big. Oh my god it was big!

You gasped softly and he stilled, watching your expression. You eased over him, taking as much of Art as you could stand. You pressed your palms to the roof of the car for balance, his strong hands kneaded into your thick thighs.

“Aren’t we a bit too old for this?” he breathed.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we.” Your laughter turned into moaning. Maybe you were both a bit too old for this, but you’d never had so much fun before! He pressed deeply inside you, and his hands couldn’t stop touching your body. He roamed over the soft curves, and plump form, his desire seeming to grow the more he did.

The next morning you came into work, seeing Art standing in the middle of the room. You held your breath, wondering if it was all a wonderful dream. He turned and smiled, his thick glasses back in place.

“Hi” he said breathlessly.

Your smile bloomed. “Hi.”

Art motioned to the desk. “I brought coffee.”

“I see that.” You smiled and took a cup he offered.

He sighed then laughed and you laughed. “So uh…last night.”

“I liked your friend’s gallery. It was very nice. I also liked your favorite restaurant.” You took a sip of the coffee, testing it before you added anything.

Art nodded, his gaze drifted until it fell back onto you. “Is that all?”

You smiled over your coffee cup. “No. Just barely.” You looked into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if it was an appropriate work topic.”

“Not exactly but uhm…I just wanted to check.” His eyes darted over you. “Were we really too old for that?”

You laughed and cupped your hand over your mouth. “A little. But I’m not too sore. Are you?”

“No. But I would prefer somewhere much comfier next time.” he leaned in close and you closed your eyes, accepting his kiss and the touch of his tusks against your cheeks.

“Yes, it would be nice.” You saw he had paints and brushes set on the front desk. “What’s this for?”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I thought I’d paint the window. I got a bit of inspiration last night.” He grinned your way. “Plus, I think mom would like to see how I’ve improved.”

You grinned. “I’ll be very excited to see how you work. Outside a car at least.”

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beannary · 4 months

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everyone keeps on making cute fankids and everytime i see them i immediately get overcome with the desire to draw as much internet content as possible

also theres some more lore stuff under the cut!

i imagine that after the krang almost invasion april ends up spending a lot more time with her parents both because they were so scared for her but also because she realized how close she was to losing them and so they go on a mini little family trip to their farm in upstate new york for family bonding and stuff and its during that time that the whole internet situation went down and donnie was literally so busy learning to care for a newborn that it slipped his mind to tell april

i imagine also that the turtles arent used to april not being around them like pretty much all the time so they forgot to tell her also because they immediately were like well shes always hanging out with us in the lair so she must already know and it just so happens that this was the ONE time that she was not always in the lair with them getting up to shenanigans

i also love the idea of shelldon being the sort of more futuristic of donnie's kids you know since he's fully an AI and he's the one who ends up being more drawn to engineering and inventing more futuristic tech while Internet is more into learning about the past and so she becomes an archaeologist and a historian

internet also does become an actress! she 100% has donnie's like drive for working and so she ends up like accumulating as many careers as possible and keeping as busy as possible. she does struggle a whole lot to balance the two careers at first but she manages to figure it out

as im typing this out im thinking she probably does bond a lot with splinter since she's so into history? specifically she bonds with him over learning their family history and the like legacy of the hamato clan

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beneathstarryskies · 4 months

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Omg your requests are open 🙏

Could I please request some breeding kink headcanons for some of the RE men? Chris, Leon, Wesker, Ethan and Karl? That would be awesome! Thank youuuu

Warnings: breeding, pregnancy, female reader, obviously unprotected sex.

Chris Redfield

Chris didn’t even realize he had a breeding kink. He stays so busy and is often so far away, he doesn’t see himself as necessarily being ‘father material.’

However, one day, he goes with you to a family function. There, he gets the rare chance to see you interacting with your small nieces/nephews/cousins and he imagines you with your children. Would you be as patient and loving as you are with the small kids in your family?

Chris knows this isn’t a decision to make lightly, but he also is a man who acts a lot on passion and instinct.

When he gets you home that night, he can’t stop thinking about putting a baby in you.

You can’t do anything for the next few days without Chris pawing at you, kissing you everywhere he can reach, begging to cum inside you every time he can.

Are you bending over to do laundry? Oh, now you have his bulge pressed against your ass! Are you lying in bed reading? Guess who is slowly peeling your pants off and pressing kisses on your inner thighs!

Finally, he lets it slip. He has you bent into a mating press while he’s pounding into your soaked cunt with reckless abandon.

“Let me put a baby in you,” he growls against your ear.

Leon S. Kennedy

Leon has been on his own for a long time. He loves the idea of having a little family of his own, and he doesn’t hide it at all.

Every time he’s fucking you, he is going to cum inside of you whether you’re on birth control or not. He just can’t imagine not spilling his load inside of your waiting walls.

Leon will slip up and call you ‘mommy’. He says it sort of as a joke the first time, but then the name just fits you so well. He can’t resist telling you how much he wants to make you a mommy.

He always keeps his cock sheathed inside of you after you’ve both finished to keep his cum plugged inside your little hole.

If he goes soft he’ll just use his fingers to push his cum back inside and keep it inside.

For all of his big talk, if you do end up pregnant he will panic a little bit deep down. His work is dangerous and has earned a lot of enemies for him. It might take him a while to let the news set in.

Once you are pregnant and Leon comes to terms with the reality of parenthood, he becomes so protective. You will never be out of his sight, even if it’s just him tracking your location or calling in a favor to have an agent look after you while he’s away.

All in all, he’s very happy to have bred you.

Albert Wesker

As an Umbrella operative/double agent, Wesker didn’t have a breeding kink. He was constantly plotting for his gain and looking out for his skin. Being a parent would only complicate matters further and give him yet another piece to move on the chessboard.

However, when he realizes the true potential he holds within himself, to dominate the world and rule as a god, something snaps within him.

The need to carry on his superior genes and establish a legacy grows strong.

He can’t breed with just anyone, however. He goes to painstaking lengths to find someone who has genes compatible with his own. Oh, and once he finds you he wastes no time making his way into your life.

You’re his precious little lover, and he goes to any lengths to make sure you’re as smitten by him as he is with you.

He gets off to the idea of knocking you up every single time you’re intimate. Even if you’re just giving him a blow job, he will bust as soon as he imagines breeding you.

Not to worry though, because Wesker has stamina for days. He’ll wear you out with his libido. All the while he’s growling and grunting in your ear, making sure to tell you how much he loves breeding your little cunt.

If you beg for him to cum inside of you, good fucking luck. He will go absolutely feral.

Ethan Winters

It’s no secret that Ethan loves being a dad more than anything. He has so much love to give, and he is naturally doting on those he loves.

That being said, with everything he’s been through it will take him some time after your relationship begins to think about having a family with you. It will first cross his mind when someone mentions how good you are with Rose.

The thought sticks with him for a while, and then it morphs into the idea of having another baby…

Soon, he’s picturing you swollen and round with his baby growing inside of you. He can practically hear how sweet you’d be explaining to Rose that she’s going to be a big sister.

He’s trembling with excitement when he brings up the idea of having a baby to you. If you agree, he is going to be hard immediately.

Ethan doesn’t do anything half-assed. The man becomes OBSESSED with breeding you.

He’s tracking cycles, he’s pulling all the positions that are the most effective for conceiving, and most of all he is fucking you every single time he gets the chance.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl gets the idea to breed you for entirely selfish reasons if we’re being honest.

When Alcina is allowed to create three daughters, he grows a bit jealous of that. Why does she get a family? Why does Donna get her stupid little doll? And when he learns of the possibility of having a strong, powerful child…Oh boy.

He won’t exactly tell you his intentions. He just starts pumping thick loads of cum into you every chance he gets.

One night he’ll let it slip, “I’m gonna put a baby in you.”

He doesn’t really care if you want a baby or not, the idea of it just motivates him beyond anything else. He becomes insatiable, especially during a full moon. He’ll have you bent over every surface or folded into a mating press all night long.

The problem with Karl though is he doesn’t actually consider the reality of having a kid. When you start showing signs of pregnancy, he kind of starts to panic. He might push you away a little bit, not fully wanting to take responsibility even though he wanted it so badly at first.

However, when certain people begin questioning how you became pregnant his protective instincts will flare up. Then, he’ll never let you leave his sights.

#🌟written in the stars #chris redfield x reader #leon kennedy x reader #albert wesker x reader #ethan winters x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #chris redfield #leon kennedy #albert wesker #ethan winters #karl heisenberg

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scourgebff · 5 months

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more from the hollycinder partners in crime au, their little family ( original concept/au idea by @the-owl-tree )! i imagine dovewing got cinderheart’s build with hollyleaf’s striking features while ivypool is leaning more towards hollyleaf’s tall stature but cinderheart’s recognizable markings.

holly’s disappearance into the tunnels after upending the entire normalcy of thunderclan had left quite a stir in her wake. ivy and dove grow up trying to make sense of and deal with her legacy in their own ways. cinder is in the middle, fiercely protecting her daughters’ youth from a world which wants to press the weight of everything on their shoulders far too readily while also struggling to figure out her own identity.

very detailed brainrot under the cut

it seemed like an ironic twist of fate in the eyes of lionblaze and jayfeather that dove was to take holly’s part in the prophecy, quickly sweeping her under their wing and closely guiding her paws. the lingering worry that she would stray from them and onto a dangerous path as holly had- doubly so since lion was made dove’s mentor. lion is fiercely protective of dove, seeing in her a bright potential and genuinely wants her to succeed. however it is quite clear to everyone that he’s projecting his sister onto her, for all her talent and resourcefulness going beyond the shadowy pelt and leading to heightened expectations. dove swallows down her discomfort at the pressure, wanting to make everyone proud and live up to their expectations, not only as warrior but as part of a prophecy so much larger than herself. one that she feels is partially to blame for driving her other parent away, as jay eventually reveals to her to full truth, leading to feelings of guilt she doesn’t even particularly understand. torn between stars and shadows, her paws wander over clan borders in search of an answer or escape for herself while discovering things she’d never expect.

meanwhile ivy feels like a spectator in her own life. listening in on near constant rumors and gossip about her family that she isn’t even included in, instigated by a cat she doesn’t even know. getting even further frustrated by just how passively helpless to remedy anything she is. while cinder treats the two girls completely equally, ivy isn’t blind to the practically palpable anticipation thunderclan holds towards dove. she’s a prodigy, with the undivided attention of both the clan’s healers and one if not the strongest warrior as a mentor, sent on journeys and given extra assignments as cats discuss how promising she is- yet also the level of suspicion cats hold towards her for being related to both a traitor, a healer, and a windclanner. ivy is of course of the exact same blood, yet she might as well not exist to anyone but dove and cinder bar a few extended family members. feeling isolated yet reluctant to try and burden her already troubled closest kin with insecurities she feels are ‘insignificant’, ivy meets hawkfrost who seems to not mind listening. in fact he says he relates to her, having a controversial family history himself. ivy asks for advice, ending up gaining confidence with his helpful suggestions and in turn drawing closer to the dark forest. she seems more well adjusted, yet in truth she’s merely getting better at lying and giving cats a spectacle to notice her by. while her social life improves, the unease in her grows as she’s gradually lured into working for the dark forest. ivy with new confidence and supposedly trustworthy new friends feels as if she can balance the danger despite rising escalation.

cinder, ivy, and dove remain extremely close. there is certainly friction between ivy and dove, however cinder is incredibly involved in their lives. refusing to let them lash out at each other and drift apart, she’s reminded all too painfully of her bitter last interaction with holly. she regrets how they ended, strangely enough considering how she didn’t regret dirtying her paws with blood to cover up holly’s sins. what she will not tolerate however is disrespect against her kits, growing estranged from her childhood friends jay and lion upon seeing how oddly they treat dove. it’s an uncomfortable situation, yet dove and ivy both are incredibly grateful to always have cinder in their corner. just for her they’ll set their reservations towards each other aside to form an at least temporarily stable truce. that being said, cinderheart being a reincarnation of cinderpelt actually has relevance to her character here that can be a whole other post on its own so i won’t go into it.

holly is more washed than a rack full of clean dishes icl. fleeing into the tunnels was a temporary solution, made at the peak of her mental crisis she initially tries to ignore how horrifically she treated so many cats. pushing it aside, and trying to restart herself. yet she can never forget cinder, even when she leaves the tunnels to become a wanderer cinder’s loyalty always sticks out so clearly. the kindness that holly had pushed and pushed and pushed until it broke and now here they were after that blow-out argument upon the gathering’s aftermath. a lot can be said for the time she’s out living as a rouge, but she eventually will have to come back and face her horrible past mistakes. unfortunately not before meeting a cat who might change everything for the worse- darktail C:

there’s some more i could mention because the cinderholly brainrot is infectious but i already rambled enough sorry TY IF U ACTUALLY READ THIS LOL UH </3 reward for making it down here is the fullbodies of these very normal not tortured individuals i consider them an equally normal amount

#warrior cats #wc #hollyleaf #cinderheart #dovewing #ivypool #hollycinder #hollyleaf x cinderheart #my art

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floralcyanide · 5 months

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⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰

[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]

1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑛𝑒: 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑒.

౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !

⊹ summary: the first time you meet coriolanus snow, you're unsure how to gauge him. but a conversation opens a new door for you politically. ⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: consumption of alcohol ⊹ word count: 3331 ⊹ author’s note: I'm so excited to finally post this hehe. I know everyone has been so hype about this series and I'm proud to introduce to you the first chapter. any feedback is welcome. ♡

౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune

౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

❝A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on.❞ ― John F. Kennedy

It’s a peculiarly warm day in New England despite traces of snow still blanketing the dead grass in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts. A blizzard had blown through the night you arrived, and the remains of the storm are now melting away with each passing moment. A veil of mist hangs in the air by the ocean, the mixture of freezing sea water and balmy air still trickling in from the middle Atlantic lingers. You’re watching the thin fog swirl around in the cool breeze as you stand in front of the formal living room window. The Kennedy Compound is just far enough from the beach that you can see it clearly from the front of the main house where you currently reside. And though a part of you longs to be outside after being cooped up for days due to that nasty winter storm, you’d rather not be bombarded with the still fairly bitter and salty air. Thin, long sleeves cover your arms as they cross over your chest despite the warmth of the fire in the den nearby. The house is still and silent. Everyone seems to be off doing their own thing after dinner wrapped up not long ago.

At 18 years old and beginning your secondary education journey, you never would have believed that you’d be where you are a decade later. You’re now 28, working toward your dual-title doctorate in political science and history at Harvard University. You’re so close to finally graduating, and it’s almost bittersweet. You wish your parents were around to see it. You’re the first in your entire family to go to university, not to mention the first to go to Harvard. Going to such a pristine school is unheard of in your neighborhood. What’s more unheard of, is your privilege to closely study and research your chosen dissertation topic. You decided you would research the life and ongoing legacy of John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States.

Except for the amount of data and information you need, you have to interview and research extensively. Which means having to eventually meet the man himself. 18-year-old you also would never believe that you would meet the President and shake his hand. Or even get to know him past the facade he puts on for the world. But it doesn’t stop there. Due to the difficulty of getting ahold of John F. Kennedy after his passing of the Civil Rights Act of 1963 and the Interracial Marriage Act, a decision was ultimately made. The chaos of Capitol Hill and the citizens of the United States pushed John F. Kennedy to leave for the holidays much sooner than usual. After getting to know you well enough over a few months, the decision was made that John F. Kennedy would invite you to stay with him and his family in Hyannis Port. Just for a few weeks, through Christmas and New Year. It isn’t like you had anything else to do or anyone to spend it with. Besides, this will be your chance to get exclusive information about the man and his family for your dissertation.

So here you are in the Kennedy family home. In the last week you’ve been here, you’ve gotten to know Jack and his family quite well. You had insisted on remaining professional and calling Jack by his real name, but he refused that. “All my friends call me Jack.”

You’ve gotten the inside scoop on Jack’s childhood and his chronic illness that has carried into adulthood. The military history in the family has also been spilled to you, and not a single detail has fallen on deaf ears. You’ve filled two notebooks already. When you aren’t scribbling down everything, you’re nose-deep in a book Jack has written. Currently, you’re reading Profiles in Courage and have found it quite interesting. You decide you’ve done enough staring out the window and that you’d join Bobby and Ted outside at the bonfire. Once you’re outside, they’re heading back indoors. But they offer to leave the fire going for you. Graciously, you accept their offer and take a seat by the warm flames, opening up Profiles in Courage.

You’re blissfully unaware of how much time has passed, your eyes eagerly scanning each word in each line as if they’d disappear any moment. You almost don’t notice the sound of snow crunching underneath someone’s approaching feet.

“Sorry to bother you, but Jack is asking for you inside.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of a man’s voice that you don’t recognize. You peer over your book at him and gauge that he must be safe, even if you don’t know who he is, considering the house is crawling with security.

“Alright, then,” you nod, putting your book down before standing up, stretching, and brushing yourself off.

You look closer at the man before you as the orange flicker of the fire basks him in an angelic glow. His hair is a mess of stark blonde curls, and he’s in a white button-up, the sleeves rolled up his forearms.

“And who might you be, exactly?” you ask, tilting your head slightly in confusion.

“Excuse my lack of introduction. My name is Coriolanus Snow. Jack’s best friend.”

You quirk an eyebrow, exhaling a laugh, “But Lem is Jack’s best friend.”

The blonde man chuckles, taking a step closer to you, “Well, maybe there’s a lot about Jack you don’t know about just yet.”

You narrow your eyes at this Coriolanus Snow, not caring that your shoulder collides with him as you swerve around his tall figure. You walk briskly back to the main house, wondering how this mystery man has yet to be brought up. When you enter the front door, Jackie is holding John Jr. in the foyer.

“I was just looking for you, dear,” she says, “Jack is asking for you.”

“So I’ve heard,” you raise your eyebrows at Jackie, and John Jr. reaches for you. You poke the boy on the tip of his nose.

Jackie gives you a confused look, but you’re quick to explain, “Some man outside said that Jack was. He isn’t Secret Service.”

Realization crosses her soft features, “Ah, Coriolanus, I’m guessing?”

“You’d be correct.”

“He’s a long-time friend of Jack’s from Harvard. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him. His father was a New York senator for years.”

“Can’t say I’m too familiar with the Snows,” you purse your lips together, “But if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see what Jack needs me for.”

Jackie lifts John Jr.’s hand to wave goodbye to you, and you give him a big smile, waving back. You walk through the den to the staircase, trodding up the stairs until you reach the landing. The office is immediately to your right, and when you approach the door, you knock. When you do, the slightly ajar door opens wide enough to see Jack laughing and conversing with someone in the room.

“I don’t mean to interrupt-“ you begin as you step inside the office, but you still yourself quickly.

Your eyes meet Coriolanus Snow’s steely blue ones as he leans against Jack’s desk, his forearms bearing his weight. His head is turned to you, his face appearing as if he were shocked by your arrival.

You clear your throat, fixing your gaze back onto your original point of interest, “But I was told you were requesting my presence?”

“Yes, I was,” Jack smiles at you from his spot in his desk chair, “I’d like you to meet Coriolanus Snow, a great friend and colleague of mine. We attended Harvard way back when.”

Coriolanus stands up, straightening himself out. You notice he has an air about him that oozes confidence and prestige. His presence and towering height would seem intimidating to some upon the first meeting. Not to you, however. With your life focus being on politics, you’re quite desensitized from men and their faux personas.

“Nice to meet you,” you bite back a remark about already meeting Jack’s friend and stick out a hand, face blank and expressionless, “I currently attend Harvard myself.”

“Coriolanus, this is the bright Ph.D. student I was telling you about. She will be here until the New Year,” Jack says, a prideful grin on his face as he motions to you, “Be nice to her, she’s known to hold her ground.”

“I can tell,” Coriolanus gives Jack a close-lipped smile, his eyes averting to you.

You stand by Jack almost protectively, unsure of how to feel about the blonde man before you. The fact he managed to beat you inside and upstairs when you left him outside first made you wonder. Coriolanus’s physique in itself is alluring and piques your interest. He also seems quick-witted and the type to be a few steps ahead of everyone. It’s not hard to gauge this just from a few exchanged words. You’ve been studying and shadowing long enough to know who you’re interacting with. You study political science, for crying out loud. You know a born and bred power-hungry man when you see one. But at the end of the day, they’re just flesh and blood like those outside of the game. That’s the historian part of you trying not to judge Coriolanus so hard. You don’t know all the facts yet. If Jack is friends with him, he may not be so bad, despite the dark vibe he gives off. But you want to figure out why he appears so stiff.

“Coriolanus will be staying with us until New Year,” Jack turns to you, patting your back as he notices your shift in mood, “You don’t mind some extra company, do ya?”

“Not at all,” you smile sweetly at your mentor before turning to Coriolanus, “Besides, there’s still a lot about you that I don’t know about just yet. And I’d love to hear all about it.”

Jack hums in agreement. Coriolanus raises his eyebrows at you, and you raise yours back. He clears his throat, standing up slightly straighter than previously.

“I can always pour us some wine, and we can discuss some lighthearted details before turning in,” Coriolanus offers you, “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

“That sounds lovely. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I must grab my belongings from outside, and then I’ll be available in the den, Coriolanus.”

Jack and Coriolanus watch as you leave the room, closing the door behind you. Jack feels fairly content and is proud of his esteemed shadow getting along with his best friend. Or, appearing to be, anyway. Coriolanus is silent and remains neutral in his facial expression. He carefully turns the idea of you over and over in his head. There’s something to your character that intrigues him. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t figure it out.

When Jack and Coriolanus wrap up their conversation, you’re getting settled in the den. You’re curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, continuing your book from earlier. You circle a sentence that catches your attention, gnawing on the tip of the pen as you think of what Jack could have meant by this specific statement. You’re ripped from your thoughts when a hand delicately holds a glass of blood-red wine in front of you.

You abruptly close your book, taking the glass of wine, “Thank you.”

You don’t look at Coriolanus as he sits down, and he does so quietly without breaking his eyes from you. He keeps his focus on you as he sips his wine, and you can feel him do so as you stare into the flames in front of the couch.

“So,” Coriolanus clears his throat, “How long have you known Jack?”

You pause, taking your time to swallow your wine before glancing over to Coriolanus with little to no expression. You flash him a closed-lip smile before setting your glass down on the table, “Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”

Coriolanus is taken aback, not showing it other than his raised brows before responding, “I see. And what makes you think I already know the answer to that?”

“Despite what society may think, a woman isn’t as daft as she appears to be. Given a man in her presence is smart enough to know that she isn’t, anyway,” you stare at him, unblinking, “No offense Senator Snow, but I know you’re a man of Harvard. And you know I’m a woman of Harvard, so let’s cut the chit-chat.”

Coriolanus slides his tongue across his teeth underneath his closed mouth before chuckling smartly, “I can see why Jack chose you. And you’re right, I did know the answer. But not every source is reliable.”

You lean down to retrieve your drink, “And why would Jack be an unreliable source?”

Coriolanus shrugs, “Well, as I’m sure you know, Jack knows his way around the ladies.”

“Am I supposed to be offended by this common knowledge, Mister Snow?” you swirl your wine around in the glass, peering up at him warningly.

“Of course not,” he furrows his brows, shaking his head in light disgust, “But you’re not unattractive by any means, miss.”

You scoff, “I’m very well aware. But your suggestion that I would entertain a superior I’m studying for one thing is pretty crass.”

Coriolanus waves a dismissive hand, “You know how Jack is-”

“Yes, I do,” you say sternly, “However, I’d never involve myself in nonsense.”

“And why is that?”

You tilt your head at the man, laughing in awe at his brazenness, “For starters, he has a loving and caring wife. Someone I rather respect and admire, actually.”

Coriolanus nods, sipping his wine without a word. It’s not the only reason, of course. But it takes anyone with common sense to know why you wouldn’t so much as poke Jack with a ten-foot stick. Yet you still decide to take this friend of Jack’s by surprise.

“And besides,” you shrug, “I prefer blondes,” you say plainly, throwing back the remainder of your wine as Coriolanus fights to keep his jaw from dropping.

“Now,” you lean against your knee that’s crossed over your other leg, holding your empty glass out to Coriolanus, “I’m studying the man and have studied him for years already. So, how about you tell me something I don’t know, hm?”

It takes a little while for Coriolanus to warm up to your snarky attitude, given he is the reason you have one. But you also take some time to soften up yourself. You aren’t always so bitey- not unless deeply provoked. And all that Coriolanus Snow has done is provoke you as long as you’ve known him, which has only been a few hours. But the more the two of you talk and drink, the more you both begin to unravel. It takes about three glasses of vintage wine to make Coriolanus crack a genuine smile for the first time in front of you. Which, by all means, was not normal for him, especially around someone he just met. More so around a woman in general. However, just as you know there’s something to Coriolanus, he knows there’s something to you as well. And he has barely even scratched the surface.

“One night during his campaign, he had a little too much to drink at a dinner, and his accent was so thick I had to translate,” Coriolanus says, his chin resting in his hand. His arm is propped on the arm of the couch that you are perched on where he now also sits. Coriolanus is far enough from you to be civil but close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him. For someone with such a cold demeanor, he could put the fireplace to shame.

You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh, “That’s actually quite funny, considering how thick it is in general. I can’t imagine how it must sound while he’s a few sheets to the wind.”

“Exactly,” Coriolanus lifts his finger from his glass to point at you, “But in actuality, it was a test.”

You look at him confused as you pour a fourth glass for yourself, “How so?”

“Jack wanted to make sure I knew what to say to voters and donors,” Coriolanus says, finishing his wine.

You offer to pour him more, to which he accepts, “Why would that matter?”

“He knew I was planning to run this year.”

You set the bottle of wine down, “To run?” you repeat, openly laughing now, “For what? Cabinet?”

“No. President.”

The burn of alcohol shoots pitifully through your sinuses, nearly exiting your nose as you struggle to cover your obvious laugh. You sniff harshly, covering your mouth and nose with the back of your hand as you swallow the remainder of the wine, recovering the best you can before answering.

“Normally, I’d believe a senator who says that, but before today I had no idea who you were, Coriolanus,” you look at him incredulously, “The election is eleven months away now. You need to, and pardon me when I say this, light a fire under your ass.”

Now it’s Coriolanus’s turn to laugh, “Shocking you’ve never heard of me, considering you’re a political science guru.”

“Shocking that I’ve never heard of you, considering you’re a senator of the United States of America under John F. Kennedy and running for the thirty-sixth President of the United States,” you bark in response, your initial disliking of this man rising back to the surface.

Coriolanus’s jaw jerks to the side before he looks down in his lap, nodding to himself, “No, you’re right. I do need to light a fire under my ass.”

You shrug, finishing your wine and not bothering for another glass.

“How about since you made me realize this, you can help me out.”

You set the empty glass on the table before sinking back into the couch, crossing your arms as you look straight at Coriolanus, “Help you out with what, exactly?”

“My campaign,” Coriolanus says.

“You’re terribly hilarious, you know. I have too much to worry about right now to help a grown man who should already have a plan if he truly wanted to win the election.”

Coriolanus goes to defend himself, but you interrupt, “Before you give me some sort of excuse, yes, I know you’re a grown man. Yes, I do have too much to worry about. I’m literally writing a book about a man and his entire life. Yes, you most definitely should already have a plan by now if you want to win.”

Coriolanus just stares at you, unsure of what to say, but again you give your two cents, “And yes, as much as I probably shouldn’t, I will help you. But you will owe me big time. Got it?”

It takes a moment for Coriolanus to realize you’ve agreed to help out, but when he does, there’s a slight glow of gratitude in his eyes, “Thank you. I know I’m seriously behind, but I know I can do this. Especially if someone as well-endowed as you is helping me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m well-endowed in more ways than one, but politics is just the icing on the cake, sweetheart. So, let’s continue this tomorrow before I fall asleep here.”

Standing up from the couch after numerous glasses of wine has proven tricky. Your head swims, and you sway slightly from side to side. Coriolanus has to rest a gentle hand on the small of your back in order for you to steady yourself. You glance at him, letting your eyes linger in silent thanks, before collecting yourself and walking out of the den into the hallway. After putting your book and notes away, you strip your clothing and curl up under the soft duvet on your bed. Hopefully, your craving for political experience and curiosity in your interest won’t land you into trouble with Coriolanus Snow. But you’re eager to find out.

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mysterycitrus · 2 months

Note

what gave you the idea for persephone? was it spite towards those "reverse robins" things where everyone before dick is somehow still robin (understandable and very valid they rarely do anything storywise and also give the backstories to different people without considering character)? or something else

it was originally kinda the skeleton of a fic id started writing like five years ago — about new52 nightwing and pre-flashpoint nightwing swapping universes — but tbh last year i read something that was an examination of dick grayson as robin through the eyes of the other robins and it just……. threw me off so bad that persephone spawned as a result

persephone and the series as a whole is just one long character study of dick grayson and the ghost of his parents, and how he’s viewed by others. there’s like… four prequels exclusively about him as perceived by others cause i find it’s a very effective way to engage with a character. we know this character and can more or less guess his thought process, but do others?

the thing i read was pretty much just the other robins being like “we didn’t really know him cause we liked the other robins better but he was ok i guess?” and tim talking about how much he loved jason which just made me think about how the robin legacy is so muddied in both fanon and canon that i just couldn’t contain myself. that was my first foray back into comics fandom and it was jarring with how my ideas differed from what seemed to be popular. obvsly not interested in flaming a fanwork but like…. i wanted to at least post something about my understanding of the characters. that’s why i wrote wolf king too (my mistake) — there are popular fanon plot beats i just disagree with. ive never really read reverse robin stuff because i don’t think the robin mantle would work in that order so i can’t comment on it but yeah. same principle.

i do think it’s possible to write interesting speculative batman stuff while being relatively true to every character, so that’s my ultimate intention. to add interesting details to canon in a meaningful way.

so yeah. ig i was inspired by being a meanie. and because dick grayson is my very special boy ♥️

#persephone tag #dick grayson #nightwing #dc comics #the ask and the answer

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blehrbie-blog · 1 year

Text

Neteyam x Reader story

Sooo, I haven't written anything in genuine years. But after watching Avatar:TWOW I've become hyperfixated and have been scrolling and refreshing the Neteyam x Reader tag basically since the movie came out. As a consequence I've had this idea in the back of my mind that I thought was very sweet and cute (something we all need after that movie) so I decided to sit down and give it a go and see what comes out of my brain. So here it is. I haven't properly edited it and it's pretty much a 1000 words of word vomit and a bunch of time skips but it made me happy to write so I'm sharing it.

Oh, BTW SPOILERS!! but also I don't stick to the event's of the movie so idk I'm just putting it out there in case someone hasn't watched the trailer.

So the idea is our girl meets Neteyam informally for the first time when they're 9. She gets cornered in the jungle by a Palulukan and Neteyam helps her run away from it. She had always known who he is being the firstborn son of the Toruk Makto. She remembers her mom telling her about the big ceremony the Tribe had when he was first born. Everyone knew him.

- You shouldn't go into Palulukan territory without being careful - he says, looking a bit unsure about her now that there's no imminent danger.

- I didn't know I was in its territory

- Don't wander off too far on your own then.

___________________________

After this meeting, you get closer and become friends, which means as a consequence you occasionally hang out with the rest of Neteyam's family. However, as he gets older and his Dad starts preparing him to be a warrior and later on Lo'ak as well you don't have as much time to spend as you once did laughing and roaming around in the jungle exploring thick forests and shallow pools of water. It's not like you have nothing to do with your life, you do! You've been thinking of taking up lessons from the Tsahik, to see how you can use the spirit of Eywa and nature to help people who are hurting. It just so happens that the Tsahik is Neteyam's grandmother so you sometimes end up seeing him come back from a mission with his father and you share sweet smiles from across the camp.

When the tribe moves to the floating rocks, you are required by the Tsahik to help those injured from the journey and the ones getting used to the new terrain. So you're even more often in the same circles. As you're working one day about to go over to help Ninat with her sprained ankle, someone taps you on the shoulder

-You seem busy with work. - says Neteyam smiling sweetly at you

-Oh! Yes, I was just about to start. How's your training going?

You hadn't spoken in a while, just a quick wave or nod when crossing paths throughout the day. You hadn't noticed but he towers over you by a couple inches now. He nods towards his dad who's speaking with Neytiri at the edge of their tent.

-You know, just the usual responsibilities of carrying on the legacy. - His eyes gaze into you softly, like he's memorizing your face after not seeing it for long. He shakes it off and looks down - Have you got many tasks today?

-Not too much actually, just need to check up on Ninat and prepare some medicinal salves.

- I want to see you later – He looks back up into your eyes and smiles – Maybe we can go on one of our expeditions like before.

You chuckle – Sure, I'd love that.

With a final nod of approval, he stalks away to his parent's side.

When you meet later towards sunset he's waiting patiently with his Ikran by the vines connecting the Hallelujah Mountains to the Jungle below.

-We won't go too far out into the jungle so we have time to come back before sunrise. - He says as he connects his Queue with the Ikran and gazes at you expectantly – Hop on.

Can I trust that I'll come back alive from this flight? - you raise a skeptical eyebrow. He only went through his Iknimaya ritual not too long ago.

He reaches out a hand to help you up onto the animal – I don't think Eywa would forgive me if I wasted you on a simple flight.

You smile warmly into his shoulder as you hold tight onto him feeling the powerful animal shift under you as you fly out.

Roughly 10 years later

____________________________

When he comes back from the Mitkayina islands. He's taller and broader and his hair is much longer pulled into a loose braid around his Queue. You have a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you first see him. He's magnificent and commanding in his presence. The tribe has gathered all around to accept him and Jake back with a warm welcome. And even though you're hidden by your fellow Na'vi, his eyes immediately find you in the crowd and issue an eager and warm smile on his face.

As soon as he has settled the greetings with the current Olo'eyktan and the Tsahik, he finds you – walking to your sleeping pod. You would have gone to say hello and see him up close but, honestly, you were a bit intimidated. What you now knew was a childhood infatuation with him all those years ago still couldn't handle seeing him all of a sudden in all his... perfect glory. You were a little intimidated. But that doesn't stop him from reaching out for you. You see him jog over with a grin. He grabs you by the shoulders about to pull you into a hug but stops himself at the last moment. His eyes roam you over from head to toe and he looks up with glistening eyes -You've grown! - His tone sounds almost unbelieving

-That tends to happen as time passes, yes – you chuckle, hands coming up to hold onto his arms. His strong arms.

-I'm not too sure what I expected you to look like but you're... way beyond any expectation – He sounds so awe-struck as he's still taking you in, that you start to feel a little embarrassed.

-I can say the exact same thing – You say as you meet his gaze again. As you do his face softens and he brings you into his arms finally.

-I missed you, my friend.

Your hand caresses his hair gently – I missed you too.

You break apart and you decide to go for some late food with him abandoning your plans of sleep.

_______________________

Months later, when they have their first kiss. It's a slow thing. He will say something dry-humoured in his soft voice and she'll forget to laugh too busy staring at him, realizing how in love she is. And has been all these years. And when he notices that she hasn't replied he'll look at her and know immediately. That she's realized, at last. And he'll come to hold her like she's the most precious thing in his world. He'll thread his fingers through her hair bringing her face close to his. Forehead pressed to hers, patiently waiting for her to join him in the reality he has been living. Where they have loved each other for a while, longed and missed unbelievably because of it, and are finally able to bask in it. The warm smiles and looks, the casual closeness that not being apart allows. The things he has been dreaming of. He looks at her lips and back at her eyes, pulling back slightly to give her some space. Maybe she's not entirely understanding his feelings, maybe she's too caught up in her own to recognize his signs, he thinks, ready to give her all the time- When she grabs his neck and drags him back to her. - Neteyam... – her eyes are glossy like she's about to cry. So he caresses her cheeks gently and finally presses their lips sweetly together. And he can not compare it to any other feeling he has ever experienced. It's not like loving her, that's easy and at the same time overwhelming. It has brought him to the point that he is ready to lay down his life and all of his family's expectations to travel back to the tribe just to see her. To be reunited. But this feeling, this kiss is like knowing, that he won't be alone in his love and he can give her his all, his soul. They stay there, lost in the sweetness of being together like never before until the sun has long set and the moon has long risen.

_______________________

That is it! I do realise I keep skipping between tenses, I apologise if anyone finds it annoying and hope you enjoyed!

Edit: I thought it might be useful to put a link to part 2 down here so: Next

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #avatar 2 #reader insert #x reader #female reader #neteyam #jake sully #neteyam x omaticaya!reader

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blossom-sims · 7 months

Text

Elemental Legacy Challenge for TS3

Hi all, this is my first Sims 3 legacy challenge I've made myself, it is a result of my boredom on a Saturday evening but it was a lot of fun, so I'll throw this at you ☺

This elemental legacy challenge is for The Sims 3 and spans 9 Generations. It is inspired by the Chinese Zodaic Elements and also inspiration from my favourite JRPG's which utlise a lot of elemental themed magic. It has guided ideas and generational requirements with story themes throughout. Feel free to tag me if you have a go at this ✨

Rules:

I have listed the intended requirements for each generation, move on to the next generation once the requirements are complete or the next heir becomes a young adult

I have listed some guidance on careers, lifetime wishes and traits. I recommend taking 2-3 of the traits listed but they aren't mandatory

You can use money cheats if you wish, I've tried to write the generational order to put you in the desired financial spot for storytelling, but please just have fun with it

Please do alter and play this how you wish & how your stories pan out, the guidance is just there for ideas and isn't meant to limit you

Generation 1 - Earth

Child of earth, you are grounded and resillient. Your goal is to provide your family with solid foundations for the generations to come. You are selfless, stubborn and driven. You know what you want and will work your upmost to achieve it. Your ambitious and frugal nature can get on other's nerves and prompts the question: with so much planning for the future, are you really taking time to enjoy your own life?

Traits: Ambitious, Frugal, Natural Cook, Snob, Workaholic

Job: Medical Career

LTW: World Renowned Surgeon

Requirments:

Begin in a starter house. You should not move lots or houses this Generation and instead add extensions onto your house when needed

Master the cooking and nectar making skills

Fall in love and marry one person in your lifetime

Do not have children until you reach level 8 of your career

Save 20,000 for the next generation

Generation 2 - Water

Child of water, thanks to your parents hardwork, you had a carefree childhood and now plenty of savings behind you. You are a calm free spirit that lets the oceans currents carry you to your next adventure. You are in no rush to settle in one place just yet, why rush when you are having such fun? Your time for settling down will come evetually. Whatever will be will be.

Traits: Adventurous, Loves to swim, Commitment Issues, Easily Impressed, Athletic

LTW: Seaside Saviour/Seasoned Traveler/Deep Sea Diver

Job: Lifeguard

Requirements:

Travel to 3 different destinations

Do not get married and settle down until adulthood

Have at least 3 children with 3 different people you meet in your travels

Master the diving skill

Own a boat or live in a houseboat

Generation 3 - Fire

Child of fire, you are passionate and hot-headed, throwing yourself headfirst into your work and relationships with a grandeur flair. You wear your heart on your sleeve, making many flock to you for friendship or more. Your self-awareness around your temper certainly helps your popularity as you channel your temper into your physical fitness. You certainly aren't burning out anytime soon!

Traits: Social Butterfly, Hot-Headed, Artistic, Loves the Heat, Flirty

LTW: Super Popular

Job: Self-employed Painter

Requirements:

Master the painting and martial arts skills

Have at least 20 friends and maintain friendships until you are an elder or the next generation takes over

Have 3 passionate lovers in your lifetime

Throw a party once per week

Woohoo once per week

Generation 4 - Grass

Child of grass, you just can't get enough of babies, especially your own! Your family and their wellbeing are your whole world. You live to nourish, protect and teach your loved ones. However, you have been told on one or more occasions that you can be overbearing...a helicopter parent perhaps? Don't they know you only want what is best for them?

Traits: Nurturing, Perfectionist, Loves the Outdoors, Family Orientated, Green Thumb,

LTW: Surrounded by Family/The Perfect Garden

Job: Daycare

Requirements:

Have a garden and live off the land, using your grown produce for meals

Max the gardening skill

Fall in love and marry your childhood sweetheart

Have 5 children and a bad relationship with at least one

Teach all of your children their toddler skills

Live within your means in a small-medium house - never have more than 10,000 in household funds

Generation 5 - Ice

Child of ice, your parents doting nature only added onto your pressure. You never felt like you fit in with your family, never felt understood. They were all so extroverted and loud whilst you much preferred your quiet isolation. Perhaps that's why you prefer animals over people. You have a lot of love to give, I can only hope you will find someone to share that with (who is not one of your many pets).

Traits: Shy, Animal Lover, Hates the Outdoors, Savvy Sculptor, Loves the cold

LTW: Descendant of Da Vinci

Jobs: Self employed Sculptor/Painter/Inventor

Requirements:

Have a poor relatioship with your parents and siblings, you will leave your childhood family home as soon as you age into a young adult

Have 3 pets at one time

Only leave your house when necessary

Meet your lover through online dating

Master the sculpting and inventing skills

Have a child through the time machine

Generation 6 - Electricity

Child of electricity, you sure are a shocker! You thrive in the spotlight and want all eyes on you, for better or worse. You would never miss an opportunity to make a good story for the headlines. Rumours have been circulating that your appearances are a rouse: you're broke, narcissistic and even miserable! They're just jealous of your fame and fortune...right?

Traits: Inappropriate, Star Quality, Charismatic, Daredevil, Irresistible

LTW: Superstar Actor/Rock Star/Vocal Legend

Job: Actor/Musician/Singer

Requirements:

Reach Celebrity Level 5

Reach Level 10 of your chosen career

Have 3 negative scandals in your lifetime

Act inappropriately once per week

Live beyond your means - live in a large mansion and keep your household funds below 5,000. Spend any additional income on items, spa treatments and activities

Have a fall from grace and leave your children with nothing

Generation 7 - Metal

Child of metal, you know what it's like to be at rock bottom. Due to your parents neglect and carelessness, you taught yourself all you know to get by and find your next meal, even if you aren't proud of it. You are stubborn, self-reliant and one hell of an evil genius. You won't hit rock bottom again. Ever.

Traits: Evil, Kleptomaniac, Genius, Night Owl, Rebellious

LTW: Become a Master Thief

Job: Criminal Career

Requirements:

As a teen: consistently maintain D's at school, skip school, pull pranks and steal from neighbours

Work for tips as a mixologist in your young adulthood

Master the mixologist skill and learn every drink recipe

Have a found family

Steal an item every week

Never fall below 2,000 simoleons when you are independant. If you do or are about to, start doing whatever is necessary. We will never hit rock bottom

Marry a rich sim, have a child with them and kill your partner off

Generation 8 - Air

Child of air, your life so far has been turbulent and chaotic. Your parents death has scarred you and you have floated through life lost. You try to travel on the right path for your late parent, but you can't help but feel there is more to life than what meets the eye. There are sounds at night that wake you, unexplained foresight into future events and a pull to the paranormal. Perhaps it is time to stop fighting this unknown path and instead let the winds carry you to where you are meant to be.

Traits: Good, Light Sleeper, Unlucky, Over-Emotional, Neurotic

LTW: Master of Mysticism/Paranormal Profiteer

Job: Fortune Teller/Ghost Hunter

Requirements:

Join a base game job in young adulthood. Quit once you reach level 3

Reach level 10 of your chosen career

Donate money to charity every week to honour your late parent

Marry a supernatural or one of your clients

Do one exceptionally good thing in your lifetime (examples include: cure a supernatural, adopt a child, revive a dead sim)

Have a close relationship with your children

Generation 9 - Space

Child of space, you certainly are special. With your parents holding a unique view on the world and the afterlife, you grew up with an open mind and childlike awe of life's wonders and mysteries. Your parents advocated for you to question the world, and question you did! You excelled in your studies and took a particular interest in space. Is it true you become a star if you die?

Traits: Genius, Childish, Athletic, Slob, Ambitious

LTW: Perfect Student

Job: Military

Requirements:

Keep straight A's throughout school

Go to university and achieve a perfect GPA

Master the logic skill

Reach space by becoming an astronaut (Reach level 10 of the military career)

Have an alien baby

#Elemental legacy #sims 3 legacy #sims 3 challenge #ts3 gameplay #ts3 #sims 3 #blossomsims #elementallegacychallenge #sims #s3elc

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idkfitememate · 17 days

Text

So anyway this is the newfound brain rot because I got to many ideas, not enough for a fic, but it’s gonna distract me from others so here we go lol-

(Also yeah Grandpa I’m in a manly mood)

Note from weeks later: Nah this bitch a fix tf-

“Tell me about my Дедушка*.”

Capitano looked down at the ginger with contempt. It was often now, since Dottore had let it slip - curse that bastard - that Tartaglia’s Grandfather was a Harbinger. Apparently the boy had been raised to think that great man was simply a lowly solider, not one of the most powerful men in Snezhnaya.

When he heard that, Capitano had never wanted to kill a family more.

They hid your legacy from their kids, how dare they keep living as thought they had any right!?-

He sighed.

The boy continued to bother the much larger man at any chance he got, borderline begging - or now was he? Maybe he crossed that line ages ago - the man to tell him anything about his grandfather.

War stories, tall tales, hell even DRINKING stories, the 11th would take any.

It wasn’t like his Grandfather wasn’t alive, Childe could leave the palace right now and go ask you, seeing as you lived with his family.

But what Childe wanted was to come home one day in a boisterous manner and shout at his parents:

“You LIED you FEINDS!!! How DARE YOU LIE to not only ME but the REST OF YOUR CHILDREN about their ГРАНДФАТЕР?!? And to YOU, ГРАНДФАТЕР, ALLOWED THEM TO LIE!!! How COULD YOU?!?”

But he held to much respect for both them and you, even if his father sent him off as thought sending his blood thirsty son to join the Fatui would do anything. It was like sending a polar bear to a penguins nest, he had no clue what his father was thinking.

No matter, because you were there, showing him moves and teaching him tricks and giving him tips. Though, he still felt a bit betrayed at the fact that you even hid the fact that you were one of the strongest men in Snezhnaya.

“You truly wish to know boy?” The sharp voice of his superior snapped Childe out of his head. A quick nod was enough to bring Capitano to a nearby chair and sit, Childe quickly following.

“He was brave, I can say that much… He was around before me and had made a name for himself long before I even dared touch the Fatui, let alone graced its ranks.”

Childe took in the information like a sponge, absorbing everything the man said.

“They called him Большой хищник Севера*, a powerful title I’m sure you can see. It is said that before his accident, he had not lost a single man in war or battle, but after, he only lost seven men, one of each nation.”

Childe looked on in wonder. Only seven men… in the entirety of his Harbinger career? He knew the Doctor could never account for that.

“Wait… his accident? Do you mean..?” “Yes, when he first received that scar across his face, marring it, that was the first time he lost a man, someone near and dear to him as I’ve heard. I was only then truly climbing the ranks when this happened… a pity. But he wore that scar, and his friend’s Vision, with pride.” Childe gaped.

“Wait, you mean to tell me that-“ “Yes, Tartaglia, that Vision he carries in his eye, as well as arm and ear, back and finger, even his heart, they all work. They are the last pieces of his closest comrades. He’d rather die than give them up, I’ve heard. Unfortunately the strain of using them forced him into retirement, but he comes when we call.”

Childe’s eyes widened as he screamed.

“WAIT THEY WORK?!?-“

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“

Ajax looked on in awe at his Дедушка. The nearly ten foot tall giant of a man, with a full beard and furry body hair to boot had just pulled a huge fish out from beneath the ice sheet they currently stood on while ice-fishing, bare handed.

Your roaring laughter echoed through the tundra as you held the fish up proudly. You grabbed the then four year old and hoisted him onto your shoulder, that which he could fully sit on and still have some room. His hands latched onto the side of your face but that didn’t seem to phase you, as you continued your loud laughter. The cause of your laughter, being that the fish was the same size as Ajax.

“LOOK AT HOW LARGE IT IS, МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН*!! SHE IS THE SAME SIZE AS YOU BWAHAHAHAHA!!”

Ajax’s entire body shook as you continued to laugh, giggles beginning to bubble up from his own mouth.

He watched as your Hydro themed earring bounced around as your body gyrated up and down from the mere force of your laughter. His laughter grew until the two of you were basically screaming out through the tundra.

You sighed and - while still chuckling - wrapped an arm around the boys waist and began walking back home. Of course, not before grabbing the bucket filled with other fish from your fishing trip.

Ajax didn’t want to say anything, on account of the fact that it would’ve been disrespectful of course, but your arm that was wrapped around him was bumpy and hard and cold, not unlike a certain place on your chest, though it was just super cold.

The arm was usually covered in more layers or a bunch or bandages wrapped around it to soften its shape and surface, but Ajax could still feel the sharp points and edges, though he never minded.

Eventually you both made it back to the house you shared with his family, and ducking under the doorframe quickly alerted the family of your presents.

“ГРАНДФАТЕР!!!!” Ajax’s two younger siblings - a third was on his way, Teucer would be his name - ran up to you jumping at your feet. You chuckled more and let their heads, greeting each.

“Tonia, Anthon, calm yourselves!! We were only gone a few hours hah hah!!” The two only cried out in joy louder, wrapping themselves around your legs. You stumbled for a moment before walking forward as if they weren’t there.

A man and a woman watched as you walked into the kitchen and subsequently the freezer - ironic considering where you lived - to drop off the fish before waltzing into the living room. You plopped down in the couch, first removing Ajax’s coat and then your own.

The two on your legs let go and smiled up at you, the man and woman - Ajax’s mom and dad - walked over a gave you smile, a hand landing on your shoulder.

Your smile widened.

Archons you fucking loved your family.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Archons you fucking hated these enemies.

These fuckers from Natlan were resistant little fuckers. You chop off a hand and they’d still keep fighting.

You were growing annoyed after hours of fighting, blood drenching your uniform and absolutely caking your hair, something you knew would be a bitch to get out from experience.

Your right hand of the time, a Natlander by the name of Eztil, was beside you through the whole fight. He wielded large war hammer made of various precious metals and stones, as well as prettified wood; it swung through the skies, heating up the air as his Pyro vision burned bright. Much like you, his battle-hungry smile was long gone, replaced by annoyance as he squished another enemy beneath his hammer, blood spraying across his already bloody face.

“UGH! I’m getting bored nouehuepo*!! When are we going to be finished?? I am growing hungry and wish to challenge you to another eating contest after this!!” He shouted, completely ignoring the man running at him with a knife, whom was taken down by another Fatui member.

“I do not know приятель*. But let us continue until no other man stands but us!” And with that, you both continued swinging. You with your fists, sickles and hammers, him with his war hammer and bursts of flame.

Your movements were in sync, almost like a dance as you ravaged the battle field. You had each others back, making you both the most dangerous force on the battlefield.

If only it could’ve stayed that way.

It was a second. A second to look back at your friend to make a mental check.

Then you felt a searing sensation on the side of your face not looking at him. Eyes quickly looking back, a knife was embedded in your skin and a man had his foot on your chest. He smirked, then dragged the burning hot knife up, towards your eye, but before you could fully react.

Everything went white in that eye, then black.

Then, the most searing, burning, awful sensation you had ever felt.

Your scream silenced the battlefield as you bat the man away with the knife still embedded in your flesh, his body skipping across the land like a stone on a lake. Eztil’s eyes landed on you, which was just enough time for another attack.

“EZTIL!!!” You screamed.

…

A sword embedded itself through his chest. Both your eyes widened as your hand left the knife in your eye, reaching out to your now falling comrade.

You refused to cry, because he’d live.

That’s what you said to yourself as you rushed over to him, not minding your injury.

“Eztil, don’t you DARE fucking close your eyes, do you understand me?!?” Blood bubbles from his lips as his breathing slowed. A tear slipped from his eye as one of his hands pressed against your cheek.

“Nouehuepo… take it.” He whispered. Your gaze became confused as you stared at the dying man.

“What..?-“ “My vision. Take it. She shall be of service to… y-you.” He let out a harsh cough, his blood not staining your skin, making you flinch.

“No. It is yours приятель, I could never-“ “It is my last wish. Y-you wouldn’t deny a d-dying man his last wi-sh, would you?” You sighed, smiling at him.

“I don’t want you to die of enemy hands, so would you allow me to do the honors?” His grin widened, a glint in his eyes as he laughed, which quickly turned to hacking up his lungs.

“O-of co-urse!!” He smiled, and you smiled as well. Your hand flew up to the knife in your eye, and tore it out, not caring for the fountain of blood that squelched out. You also didn’t mind the large flap of skin that fell from your cheek, revealing the musculature of your face and your gums and teeth.

“Goodbye, my friend. May you find many fights in the afterlife to satisfy your bloodlust.” He grabbed your hand with the widest smile you’d ever seen in him.

“And ma-y I see you I-in that place!” Your hand came down onto his head, knife imbedding itself into his skull. Then, you raised your arm and planted the knife tainted with you and his blood now into his chest, striking his heart head on.

The light died from his eyes and his vision, but you quickly picked up the small red jewel which had been attached to his hair. Wiping it off, you leaned back and held your hand forward, before slamming the damned thing into your eye.

The battlefield suddenly felt as though it was atop a volcano itself, the air heating up and ash seemingly falling from the sky. You gripped your friend’s weapon, testing it in your hand and grip, swinging it slightly. Your hands pressed to your waist and your hand tilted to the sky, and finally, you laughed.

Your laughter shook the world, men falling in their asses as you showcased your joy. the air grew even hotter as the vision grew even brighter. Your entire body shook as the ear hammer in your hand heated up to a point where the metals were turning white in heat, though they didn’t melt.

You turned to your men, a wide smile on your face and tears, one trail of water and one of blood, streamed from your eyes.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR MEN?!? LET US FIGHT UNTIL ONLY WE REMAIN!! CHARRGGEEE!!!!”

You continued to laugh as you knocked down tens of hundreds of soldiers in one swipe, the sky nearly turning red at the mere sight of your bloodlust and rage.

That night would go down in history. The night the sky cried blood, the fall of a nation of soldiers, the day Natlan would forever regret.

‘The Night Man became a God”

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You stared at the bloodied Tartaglia- no. You stared at your grandson, Ajax’s bloodied form.

He only looked back at you.

“Well, Дедушка? Have I become a God?”

Holy shit this sucked the shit outta me-

This ain’t the best but I hope you enjoyed might go back and make another of these lmao-

Дедушка - Grandfather

ГРАНДФАТЕР - GRANDFATHER

Большой хищник Севера - The Great Predator of the North

МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН - LITTLE ONE

nouehuepo - my friend

приятель - buddy

#male reader #x male reader #Genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #male y/n #platonic #family #Childe!Grandpa!Reader #genshin impact x male reader

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dairy-farmer · 2 months

Note

I call this the Highlander Au! >:Dc There can Be Only One! (Unless he REALLY enjoys the process and the world stops going to shit for like... FIVE god damned minutes!) (The second is sadly unlikely)

Tim? Fully Cis gendered male. Not terribly ATTACHED to this, physically, but certainly identifies as Male and has a male body.

Maybe it's been all the near misses. The "all my friends fuckin DIED on my and I mentally spiraled like you wouldn't believe". Could be him finally reclaiming his life. Or yet another horrible mental spiral. Who knows!

But he's decided.

He wants to be a Dad. *sound of various Bats choking and/or dropping things*

Is even seeing anybody? Nope. How the FUCK is he gonna get a baby?! Oh, normal, Bat Paranoid fashion. Cloning tube. Same way Damian happened. He just needs to figure out the maternal DNA and he's golden. Figure out where to hide his tech to stop Villainous Baby Snatching Plots.

Because that's a very real concern.

No you can't talk him out of this. Timmy want himself a baby. Is already designing a nursery and studying child development books. Parenting manuals, getting those little animal onsies, lazer death grids to ward of Ra's ninjas. The works.

Bruce is off to the side, quietly having an aneurysm and choking to death on his own spit. Baby boy? Fatherhood? OFFSPRING!? Alone and not going to LET HIM HELP!? But why would he help!? Bad idea! But. But he needs to BE THERE to TAKE CARE of TIM and the future BABY! Aaaaaaaaa-!!!!!

It's a... "Fun" time. Dick is nearing a nervous breakdown. Bruce not far behind. Damians having Feelings(tm).

Then! At a Wayne Charity Event(tm)? Small glowing child. Looks alien. Is getting upset. People backing away IN A HURRY because they just watched this child WARP REALITY to turn the nearest table into candy.

Tim is there as the face of the family. A hero. Already feeling generally Paternal. Upset baby is Bad. So he goes in, dispite clear protests. Gets low and talks soothing.

But the alien Wants Her MOMMY!

And? Oh. Well there goes the protective amulets JLA Dark made for him. Now he's in an alien dress and? Very much no longer Cis. Guess he would have and DID inherent from his dad's side of the family, no boobs. Tiny. At least he got his mom's killer legs.

And the kiddo isn't scared any more. Since he "looks like mommy".

Except not even remotely, because she warps into being an HOUR later, looking for her daughter and is made of pure light. Thanks him. Doesn't FIX anything. And just leaves. Gee, thanks lady.

There were REPORTERS there. Tim Drake has tits now. Front page news. Great. Ra's is GOING to know and get WEIRD about it.

Tim shrugs. Off to Leslie we go, though. Check up time!

Yep. Full lady bits action. And, hey! Shiny new spleen! So that's nice.

It DOES change his plan though. He didn't, you know, collect any "samples" yet. But? Does... does he NEED too? He COULD concoct a story of "rich person hires mystic to get penis back" after going and getting magiced back.... OR?

He could have someone put a baby in him! *simultaneous Bat Choking Noises*

MUCH easier to defend. THEN he could be changed back, after the baby is weaned. The problem is who to trust? Ra's is ABSOLUTELY going to do everything in his power to get his seed inside Tim new puss. So a seed bank is out. And-

*hands slam on the table*

Obviously! We can't trust anyone outside this house! Villian plots and Ra's specifically! Bat paranoia! W-we will just have to make this sacrifice for you!

.....Weirdly intense, but okay.

Objection! Says Tim's newly no longer Dead team mates. Tim tried to CLONE Kon! OBVIOUSLY it should be Kon! And Bart! Bro Threesome! Let nature decide! (Then kid number 2 is the other Bro, is only FAIR)

ALSO a good point. He did have that promise, if one of them ever got turned into a girl. And a Kon baby WOULD be nice...

Shit! Grayson pulls "last of my legacy and I have so much to make up for" cards!

Is betrayed by his OWN FATHER (Bruce! How COULD YOU!?) Who plays "you saved me from the time steam and nearly died for me, let me help(emotional)" to devastating effect!

Cheating! Howls the Speedster! You're CHEATING!!!

And Tim stands there... kinda confused but finding he's actually Really In To This as people argue over how much THEY want to be the one to put a baby in him? He's never felt this badly WANTED. Desired.

He may not want to go through the whole "actually carrying a baby for 9 months then pushing one out" thing more then once.... but the fighting over him thing? This might be awaking something.

And, well, Kon already made a good point. Why try to control it? Let nature decide~

Everyone can help.

The argument stops dead. For all of the seconds before "who goes first?" Occurs to everyone.

Sadly for THEM, Bruce is a bastard willing to play dirty to get what he wants. And his house his rules. He goes first. After all, he no doubt smirks, none of THEM have the... experience, to handle a virgin properly.

He refuses to allow Tim hurt on his watch.

Got it? Good talk. Tim, with him.

Which is what leads to Tim clawing at the bed and begging like his life depends on it, soaked in sweat, hours later. As Bruce STILL gently, teasingly, RUTHLESSLY eats him out. Puddles worth of lube ruining the sheets and easing his way, as he works calloused fingers DEEP to find spots Tim didn't know he had yet. As they rub and tease and fuck against those spots so relentlessly it feels like Tim's coming apart.

He didn't even know he could MAKE half these noises.

His hole is so wet and sloppy, it's like it's given up. Like his body can do nothing but quiver and twitch under Bruce's hands. Given how big he is? Probably the point. Because he crawls up to loom over Tim like a giant. Presses kisses to his whimpering, sweaty face. And rocks into his exhausted body, filling every inch of him.

It doesn't even hurt. Something that big probably SHOULD for his first time, but Bruce isn't a legendary playboy for nothing. And it just fills and Fills and FILLS. Rubs against everything in a way that makes his toes curl. Makes him want to gasp and cling, even though he's so exhausted.

Bruce just shooshes him. Pulls him close. He won't have to do a thing. He can just cling to Bruce and feel good. Bruce is here. He's got you.

And it's the best thing Tim's ever felt. Forget masturbation, sex is AMAZING. Bruce rocking then thrusting then pounding into his body. Holding tight like something precious. Hammering his good spots still he sees stars. Til he's nearly sobbing, hiccuping, from how good it feels to have his insides all messed up.

Bruce fills him up. All gooey and warm. Picks him up and carries him to a clean bed to get wiped down and tucked in. Cleans up then joins him. Fills him back up and tucks him close. He feels boneless and precious. Sleeps like the dead.

Discovers sex with a puss is AWESOME.

Next morning, he's barely out of Bruce's room before Dick is scooping him up and dragging him into his room. Almost franticly bending him in half as he presses him to the bed, kissing the air out of him. Holding his face as he whispers filthy praise into his lips. Hips relentless as they slam home, pounding at just the right angle.

Like he's trying to make for YEARS of mistakes by pouring it all into pleasure NOW. Clinging tight and trying to fry Tim's brain with how good he can make him feel. Dick buries his faces against Tim's neck and rutts like he's making up for lost time. Fucking Tim through orgasms, spilling again and again, like he's determined to drain his balls dry and wring every last bit of pleasure he CAN out of Tim's exhausted body.

Tim has to threaten to hit him with an alarm clock to let him up. Tim wants LUNCH damn it. They missed breakfast. By a LOT.

But then work calls. Damn it. So he has to get dressed. Double damn it. And he does it, but refuses to be pleased about it. Resolves things. Even gets ahead on work. Only for DAMIAN to walk stiffly into his office. Sus.

The gremlin hands him a frankly VERY well put together report on why he, Damian AL Ghul... should be allowed to fuck a baby into Tim. He has brought along a slide show and genealogical report.

.......Explain.

Damian does. He REALIZED some things about himself. When Tim was discussing becoming a Father. Using the same method as he, himself, was created. Went through a whole "go to the Kent farm and have a life change adventure" character growth arc, as you do. And? Now realizing that he potentially COULD be DIRECTLY involved in the Hypothetical Child's life instead of as an uncle?

He wants in. They could be glorious, combined. AND he firmly believes Tim will be a magnificent Mother. Let him Father your child.

It's a bad idea. Tim knows this. He literally JUST slept with Bruce yesterday and nothing good comes from sleeping with AL Ghul's. They Obsess. But? Fuck it. Maybe THIS is the thing that finally stops the Tim-Gremlin cold war and bring peace to house Wayne once and for all. He unbuckles his belt. Walks over to his resting room.

And Tim KNOWS, even as he's being urgently fucked into the fold out bed, that this is an AWFUL idea. No way in HELL, from the desperate and sloppy thrusts, clinging, panting and whines, is this NOT Damian's first time. He's utterly undone.

Pounding load after load into Tim because it feels too good to stop. All enthusiasm and no skill. Half the pleasure Tim's even GETTING is his own hand, relentlessly teasing his own clit. But? Oh. The feeling of being wanted so BADLY. Of cum, gushing and gushing into him. Knowing it's HIS hole that's so good, it's driving Damian incoherent.

He feels... sexy. It DEFINITELY does something for him. He may not be able to go back. Could see himself enjoying being a milf.

But of course. Business hours end. And he PROMISED! Is swept up by Bart for their threesome. Which, after several rounds and untold loads of near-no-refractary-period speedster cum dumped inside him? Is kinda spotty, in his memory.

All he knows for certain is he wakes up to his sheepish best friends, "Sorry we fucked you unconscious repeatedly" bribes, no voice, and a warm bath. He's also plugged up and FULL full of that premium speedster/half-kryptonian blend cum, because apparently his friend intend to WIN and nothing says victory like overwhelming odds. He'd call them fuckers, but they ARE and hold no remorse. He can't move.

Carry him you bastards.

When he asks where Cassie is, he learns she's apparently trying to harrass the magic users into a making her a temporary "turn me into a dude" amulet. Both as a gift AND so she can join the race for Father Of Tim's Baby. Huh. Interesting new options.

Obviously, throughout ALL of this, ninjas. Because Ra's has never wanted to smash so hard in his LIFE.

Instead, Tim is out here, on Jason's shitty couch. Getting lifted up and slammed down onto his cock. Called baby girl. Princess. Jason's never been harder. Already planning their kids graduation dinner and baby number three.

Tim feeling precious and taken care of and DESIRED. Like the young adult with a first shitty apartment he never got to be. Something so close to normal. Put a baby in him. Fuck him like you love him, like they do this every Saturday night, then eat pizza and watch trash TV. Fill him up.

And if course~ it's a VICIOUS game of Fuck The Tim keep away, up until one day he starts to show. Then Everyone is loving and coddling and in a "No I Am The Father" cold war. The birth is a nightmare, because Tim is slender and more scar tissue then not. But?

Adorable quarter-Kryptonian! With the biggest blue eyes and Tim's porcelain doll face.

Tim is NOT doing that again. Ffffffuck giving birth. And being pregnant! Granted, the EARLY part? He loved. He glowed. Getting pregnant was AWESOME. But later stages? God awful. Clone tube babies from here on out.

Absolute Devastation in the Tom Fucking Community. Babe no! You can't MEAN IT!

Woah, hey! He never said he'd STOP. "Getting Pregnant" is very, VERY enjoyable. He's just refusing to carry SHIT. Birth control for HIM. Scooping that slurry of "leave it up to Nature" out and storing it. Now... Kon stop being smug and hold your son.

-🐼🐼🐼

😭😭😭 tim getting everyone to come to dinner and they all think it was alfred and are like 'this was a great idea alfred! we should all get together like this more often' only for tim to cough and say well actually i called you all here, i figured you all deserved a heads up since i'm going to be undergoing some serious life changes. everyone's confused and then tim says he's going to have a baby.

immediate panic and some disappointment from bruce because he thinks this is a teen pregnancy and he expected better from tim only for tim to have to yell to interrupt everyone and say there is no 'girl', not yet anyway. he's just announcing that he's GOING to have a baby. they're not yet conceived and now the family is dealing with whiplash of how of course TIM would do something like this now they're sitting their listening to him talk about the ideal gene pool given tim's family has a history of mental issues and he's going into some very detailed things like nurseries and everyone just wants him to slow down because tim is still a kid!!! dick is older than him and even HE doesn't feel ready. so everyone is trying to talk tim out of it while tim insists he's ready, he's been going to a therapist for 11 months trying to deal with his issues so he COULD be ready to be a parent.

which of course baffles them even more because???? dick has been trying to get them all into therapist for years and tim just???? went??? on his own????

bruce is of course the least welcoming of tim's ideas of teen parenthood. because what about highschool, college? at least ONE of his kids has to go to college!

tim however says no, says his GED is more than enough.

bruce tries finding other angles, asking what if he just sets tim up with babysitting gigs? make him see kids aren't that great and tim just huffs and said he already did a bunch of babysitting and volunteering at the children's centers in gotham as part of his adoption application!

which ???? just stressed bruce out even more?! because tim had tried to adopt a baby first? but apparently got rejected because of his age, lack of partner, and lack of job which tim loudly says is unfair because bruce was in his 20s when he took in dick and HE hadn't had a partner or a job!

so the family is protesting, despertly trying to get tim to change his mind,,, then tim gets a womb and suddenly the protests die down VERY quick.

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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beesmygod · 3 months

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What are some of your favorite pieces of art/ art that has made you think a lot?

this is such a cheesy cop-out answer, but there's a lot of things that im going to struggle remembering because of 1. how situational the experience was (as in, the context in which i experienced the piece) 2. how wide the word "art piece" is. 3. the great fortune to have been born to parents with strong artistic sensibilities and a love of travel/education. so these are like. really weird and specific but maybe thats the way it should be:

let's start with the most overly dramatic: st. paul's cathedral in london has guided tours where they take you into rooms and let you mill around before moving to the next one. my family took a trip overseas as a really, really big special vacation to celebrate my sister and i graduating from high school (we're not twins, we just combo'd it after she graduated) that i was too brain-broken and teenage to fully appreciate. its a beautiful cathedral but i was in my edgy internet atheist stage and refused to be impressed by it until i stood over a grate in the floor. through the grates you can see the crypt that you visit next. but standing over the grate, someone below started to sing something hymnal and very catholic. and i realized i was the only one who could hear it because of the crowd chatter. and it made me feel, in the moment, so special and so lonely in a way that i still think about, a lot. it was for me only. divine providence.

a date with adam to a place i had no idea existed but he had been to before: the bad art museum, which is split over like 3 different buildings in a bizarre way. we only went to the one where you have to buy a ticket to a movie as entry and it was some truly lovely bad art and made me sad how inaccessible it was but resolute about my love of the nuances of uncelebrated anti-art masterpieces. then we watched "assassination nation" and it was fucking terrible. great date.

reading the theory regarding the "venus of willendorf" being a self portrait as a 20-something year old and running into the bathroom to take my clothes off and look down at myself and having my mind blown. not just by how much i instantly understood it, but because of the tugging feeling on my heart when i feel that strand of history connecting women artists driven by that unknown compulsion to create for creations sake!

similarly, seeing artemisia gentileschi's work next to her fathers and realizing how much she outclassed him in every single way and feeling the tugging feeling again, but this time with a dark woe of realization of how history minimizes achievement and talent when it eases a narrative

reading jane erye's descriptions of herself and her approaches to her plights and for the first time feeling like someone had walked a path that i currently found myself lost on.

reading 1984 as a middle schooler and becoming so angry at the ending i threw the book across the room (something i had never done before and never did again in my life) and stormed out of my room to complain to my mom lol. IT REALLY UPSET ME!!!

reading les miserables for the first time and weeping piteously for days after the ending and having it impact my brain so hard it re-wired how i think about the concept of "legacy" and what it means to matter in the world and how love is nothing without the courage to stand up for it. and that mercy should, and will, always supersede unwavering justice (hard lesson to remember, maybe im due for a re-read)

sneaking into my parents room to read the books i wasnt supposed to yet as a really little kid lol. my mom used to get "dykes to watch out for" in a newsletter she was subscribed to! but i didnt read those bc they were dumb relationship comics for grown-ups. i wanted to read about opus the penguin and lee iacocca, as if i knew who that was. my mother's comic collection was the single most influential constant in my life. knowing that i was exposed to bill watterson's commentary about his own work via the big collections my mom owned probably explains a lot about what's wrong with me. but she also had a lot of berke breathed before he fully wussed out

the general experience of playing a video game that you arent supposed to/when you arent supposed to is probably one of the most freeing means of meaningless rebellion as a kid that everyone should experience. i used to be up playing pokemon past my bedtime under my covers with a huge heavy rubber flashlight i stole from the kitchen and had to replace every morning without getting caught once i was done with it. god, the days before backlit screens we had to get really fucking wild with it. in high school i would wake up at 5:00am, sneak into the computer room where the ps2 was and play an hour of FFX bc its the longest fucking non-persona game in the world, stop playing before my mom woke up at 6:00am and sneak back into bed. if i hit a part where i couldnt save i would just turn the screen off and come back to it tomorrow lol. secrets......

reading the "pictures for sad children" arc about paul, who is a ghost, finally losing it and going on a rant about how it has never mattered how thin a computer screen is. they were right and reading it helped me articulate and understand a growing feeling of restless frustration at the world around me that i felt singular and alone in. im glad that last i heard that artist is doing ok. i hope they recognize the incredible value in their work as imperfect as they perceived it to be. i do not think they would be happy to know that their old work was impactful, but i hope they realize that what people are able to tease out of their work is meaningful, at least to me it is. ill transcribe the comic rather than repost it i think: paul [while smashing electronics]: "have i told you about [bam] how nerds destroy the world take conspicuous consumption as a lifestyle choice and combine it with early hardware adoption and you have great swaths of gadgetry out of stock because they're incrementally better than the last model and there are landfills full of functioning electronics wasted time, resources, money, etc. the best part is that these things were never necessary it has never mattered how thing a computer is." [smash]

this is too long. i like art.

#art #long post

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Sex worker Alcina x Y/N

18+ Minors DNI

Alright, so I had an idea after watching Pretty Woman (Although, it’s really nothing like the movie except for Alcina being a sex worker) This is dark and pretty angsty. It will get lighter as the story progresses, but I wanted you to be aware. This part is more like a set up to Y/N and Alcina meeting. I hope you like it! Let’s get into it!

Alcina leaned against the wall of the dimly lit alley, her voluptuous figure outlined by the flickering streetlights. She took a lazy drag from her cigarette and frowned. Time for work again…

From the time Alcina became an adult, it seemed that people always made harsh judgements about her. She’s aware of the rumors and reputation her name carries. She’s heard all of the same tired insults before.

She’s promiscuous.

She’s fickle.

She’s selfish.

… She searches for affection from strangers because she never got it as a child.

Well… She tends to agree with that last statement, at least.

Alcina descends from aristocracy. House Dimitrescu, to be precise. She actually held the title of Countess for a while back in Romania. Her parents expected her to follow in their footsteps and promote the family’s legacy, but she never wanted all of that.

Alcina couldn’t take sitting through stuffy dinners and entertaining guests like some kind of novelty act. She knew her parents were just going to set her up with some pompous heir and want her to start a family. To be the perfect, doting wife. However, once Alcina set out on her own, at the age of 19, she was determined to reinvent herself into the type of woman she wanted to be. Not what others expected.

Coming from a privileged background with overbearing, helicopter parents, she had to learn how to take care of herself quickly. Suddenly being thrust into the real world was a culture shock, but she adapted and did what she had to do.

She started out as a server at a small diner. Just something to pay the bills. However… She always dreamed of being a singer and she did the work to make connections. She went to clubs and bars, mingling with musicians and building friendships. Her charisma attracted others easily and it didn’t take long before she was invited join a few bands.

Things were great for a while. Gigs were plentiful and she even had to quit her job at the diner because she was so in demand. But… Eventually work started drying up. She was getting older and the fresh-faced young adult she used to be was now gone. Her voice was tired, shot. She couldn’t perform at the level she needed to anymore. She became desperate.

She took odd jobs anywhere she could. She even started dancing for a few nightclubs. People were entranced by the rhythmic movements of her hips and body. Much like with her singing, she became a highly sought after entertainer. It seemed she had pivoted and was once again back in command of her life. And… That’s when she met someone who would change her life for the better. Miranda…

One night after a show, Alcina was approached by an immaculately dressed blonde. The women hit it off and began talking happily. Miranda showered her in compliments and Alcina clung to her every word. She had finally gained someone’s approval. Someone who praised her. Someone who didn’t judge her. It felt… Good. Miranda proposed a partnership. She managed a lot of dancers in the area and wanted to take Alcina on as a client. Alcina said yes. She was addicted to the attention she received from Miranda. She wanted to impress her.

Miranda got Alcina booked for shows left and right, she bought her gorgeous outfits to wear on stage, and she even began paying the rent on Alcina’s apartment so she could focus on honing her craft. Alcina was happy. Fulfilled. She looked to Miranda like a mother figure and Miranda considered Alcina her daughter. The two had found family in each other and made a good team.

A few months into this arrangement, Miranda decided to… Branch off into new ventures with Alcina. Unfortunately, the clubs took a hefty share of all of Alcina’s profits and it pissed Miranda off to no end. She wanted the younger woman to be paid what she was worth. People wanted to objectify Alcina? Fine. But they were going to have to pay a hefty price first. So… She got an idea.

One night, when Alcina went back to her dressing room after a set, she saw that Miranda was already there… With company. Miranda offered a reassuring smile and introduced Alcina to the people in the room. It… Didn’t take long for Alcina to realize what Miranda wanted her to do with them. She took Miranda aside and questioned her, but the blonde placed a gentle hand on her arm and beamed. “This will be a great opportunity for you, my dear. Won’t you try? For me?” She asked.

Alcina couldn’t tell Miranda no. She trusted her. So, if Miranda thought this was a good idea, she was going to believe her. She nodded and immediately did what Miranda asked of her. She thought she would feel really uncomfortable afterward, but Miranda’s affection and praise washed all of it away. She would do anything for Miranda.

The blonde made sure Alcina was safe and she was very selective of the people she brought to meet her. Under no circumstances did she stray too far from Alcina as she worked and she always accompanied Alcina back home after she was done.

This arrangement went on for several months and Alcina began to primarily work the streets instead of dancing. She and Miranda made a good living for themselves. Miranda would scout out potential clients and Alcina would take care of the rest. Alcina was finally… Loved. Unconditionally.

But, all good things must come to an end, it seems.

Over the course of a few months, Alcina started noticing that Miranda looked… Tired. Gaunt… Sick. The sparkle in her gorgeous silver eyes dimmed. She barely ate and began to sleep a lot. Alcina urged Miranda to go see a doctor one day, but the blonde surprised her and sat her down, giving her a gentle smile. “Alcina, do you know how much I adore you, draga mea?” She asked and gently cupped her cheek.

Alcina nodded. “Of course, Miranda,” She said, confused by her question.

Miranda sighed and cleared her throat. “There’s… Something you need to know, my dear. You deserve the truth,” She said, looking down.

Alcina had a bad feeling. Something was wrong. “Okay…” She said quietly.

Miranda once again met Alcina’s gaze and gave her a heartbreaking smile. “Alcina. I’m… Dying, my dear,” Miranda revealed, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Alcina felt ice shoot through her veins. What? This can’t be true. No. The only person she had in this world… No. Alcina broke down. She began crying and screaming. Miranda’s heart ached at Alcina’s reaction. She wrapped her arms around the younger woman and shushed her softly. She felt… Guilty. She didn’t want Alcina to have to fend for herself.

“There must be something we can do!” Alcina pleaded through her tears.

Miranda smiled softly, but shook her head. “No, my dear. I am so sorry. We must accept what’s to come,” She said.

The two held each other and wept. They would be separated and there was nothing they could do about it.

Alcina took care of Miranda around the clock, but her health deteriorated fast, and two months later… She died peacefully in Alcina’s arms. Held by the one person who loved her the most.

Alcina was devastated. What was she going to do now? She closed in on herself. She drank. She slept. She cried. How could she go on? It wasn’t fair. All she wanted to do was hide herself away, but… She had bills to pay. She needed to start working again. Only this time, she’d have to do it alone.

And now, almost a year to the day of Miranda’s passing, Alcina once again found herself looking for customers. She shook away the tears that threatened to fall and bitterly flicked her cigarette away.

But, little did she know that, once again, someone would come into her life and change it for the better.

Enter you.

Note: Phew, this one was actually kind of challenging to write. I had trouble at parts conveying my ideas and trying to fit specific details in. Also, I want to make sure that I say I will not tolerate hateful comments about sex workers. This is a safe space and you will be blocked if you are disrespectful. Thank you. I hope you enjoyed!

Masterlist

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re8 #re8 village #re8 lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #mother miranda #alcina dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil #resident evil imagines #lady dimitrescu x y/n #angst #angst drabble

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bored-platypus · 6 days

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swim in circles (sniper! tim)

au where tim's parents get kidnapped by obeah man earlier on but they survive. and he becomes a sniper. :)

inspired by @yjcorefourenjoyer's sniper! tim idea, who graciously let me run around in their sandbox. :D

Turns out, when you leave your child alone without a parental figure for months, you can’t integrate yourself back into their life and just pretend all is normal.

You never wanted to parent me before, Tim wants to scream. Why are you even pretending you care now?

But he says none of it, swallows it down his throat dry where it resides in his chest, thick and cloying like a good son. His parents narrowly escaped being killed. Tim is being selfish because he isn’t used to this. It’s fine.

Jack wants him to transfer to a nearby private school and live at home instead of boarding school so he and Mom can keep an eye on him, fine. Tim can adapt, take advantage of the fact that he’s home more to take pictures of Batman and Robin.

So Tim is twelve years old when his father brings him to a shooting range and puts a hand on his shoulder. Some good ol’ father-son bonding, his dad claims. His dad is too scared to admit what the true purpose is; so Tim won’t be defenseless in case he’s kidnapped.

But it doesn’t matter whether his dad verbalizes it or not: Tim knows, so there’s no point in saying it out loud.

(For a brief moment, he thinks of becoming Robin, of fists and swinging staffs and acrobatics. Of following Batman’s no-kill rule.)

It’s a silly thought. Tim’s parents are very much alive, and his reality is this: gunpowder and cameras and slow, choking patience. Tim is athletic, but doesn’t exactly make a point to get into fights— if he’s attacked, he would have the best chance with a gun.

But for the next few months, Tim drowns under his father’s expectations and his mother’s worried and guilty gaze. The knot in his chest tightens until he struggles for air, and Tim needs something, needs to get out of the house, needs to do something other than follow Batman and Robin because his parents keep checking on him in the middle of the night.

Tim flounders, kicks fruitlessly at the waters until another weekend, when his father brings him out again and he adjusts his stance, aligns his handgun, and waits until his hands are steady.

It doesn’t take long until he speeds through a fire safety certificate test and all but owns his father’s 9mm pistol.

For the first time in what feels like forever, Tim breathes.

It’s a hobby his father supports and something his mother, who sits in her wheelchair, loosens the furrow in her brow for. Before he goes, she quietly brushes her hand over his hair. Remember your gun safety, Tim, she says, and he nods before heading out for another lesson.

Really damn good, his instructor says, and Tim smiles, because his arms are getting used to the recoil and Tim has one of the highest accuracies among all the teens in the class, even if he takes a little longer than everyone.

But it’s no matter: Tim has experience with being patient.

It doesn't take long for Tim to start bringing his handgun out with him while he goes birdwatching. It takes even shorter for Tim to start eyeing the bolt-action rifles jealously, thinking of how much farther he could take it, what he could do. Eighteen years old, he chants, eighteen years old.

Except when Tim turns thirteen, Jason dies. Batman grieves his son’s death in a way that leaves Gotham a bloody, destructive swathe of pain. And Tim can’t just watch, anymore. He goes to Dick, pleas in his mouth, begging him to see that Batman needs a Robin.

It doesn’t work. And now Two-Face has Bruce and Dick, and Tim has nothing but his 9mm pistol and the location of the Wayne manor. Alfred looks down at him, lips pursed in hesitation, and Tim knows, knows that Robin doesn’t use guns, knows that it would be an abomination to Bruce’s values and Dick’s legacy but he doesn't know what else to do.

“Please,” he begs.

Surprisingly, it is easier to convince Alfred that he can protect himself with a gun. Tim suspects that Batman will have a different reaction.

–

Bruce and Dick are safe, Two-Face is safely in jail, and Bruce looks at his guns with poorly concealed suspicion and apprehension. And that’s the crux of the matter: Tim uses guns, Robin does not. Tim cannot be Robin, not with his parents so closely around and his only method of protecting himself being a lethal weapon. The worst part is, it all feels like a waste. The hours at the shooting range, his father’s proud smile, his rising accuracy rates, and it sucks, because Tim doesn’t want to feel this way.

Tim never meant to be Robin. But he needs to become Robin now and Tim has never trained in hand-to-hand combat or swung a staff before. His way out has become another trap, and Tim has never shot a dart gun before, nor is it sustainable to use tranq darts.

Funny. Tim never seems to be given a choice. But he can’t complain, so he does the next best thing. Tim throws himself into convincing Bruce, tries to prove that he can be Robin, even if he’s fighting a losing battle. There’s really only one way Bruce will accept, and Tim knows it.

He screams until his voice is hoarse after Batman nearly dies, but he can't be Robin, not until he gives up Tim Drake. Timothy Jackson Drake holds tightly onto a hope that isn't sustainable, thinks of his father who looks at him in the eye and makes him promise that he'll keep his life over everybody else's.

TIm is selfish and he’s drowning again, but so is Gotham.

–

“Tim.”

His dad looks angry, flickers of worry shining from behind his eyes. Tim knows he’s been acting suspicious: too many bruises on his legs and cuts on his arm, coming home later than usual.

Tim shrugs self-deprecatingly.

“Please, dad? I know it’s not what you want but it’s getting to be a lot and I need to move around my schedule to fit in more.”

“Tim… This wasn't brought on because the boys in your class have been roughhousinging you because you’re better, right?”

“No! It’s not, it’s not,” Tim shakes his head, face burning with mortification. That would be so embarrassing. It seems so juvenile, quitting because he was bothered by the envious comments, rather than quitting because he wanted to take on a vigilante mantle that had a fifty percent mortality rate to make sure Batman didn’t go off his rocker.

Tim is so grounded when his dad finds out. His father sighs, running a hand through his hair, and Tim guiltily shrinks under his gaze.

“You spent so long practicing,” his father accuses. There’s the hidden panic Tim was expecting. “I really thought you were into it, Tim.”

Tim flinches.

“It’s not that,” he mumbles, trying not to feel like he’s wasted so much of his and his father’s time. “I’m just not that interested anymore and…”

And the truth is, Tim hates this choice. But it’s still his decision, to pick up Robin and put down Tim Drake. He goes for the low blow.

“Let me make my own choice for once, okay? You always want me to do this and that and I’m trying, but I want some space to figure out what I like instead of just balancing what you want in favor of what I want.”

His dad freezes, frustration playing out over his features, but Tim knows he’s won this one.

“I’m going to check up on your mom. I don’t want to talk about this tonight, but we are talking about this.” I can’t stand talking to you right now.

It’s fine, because Tim has won.

The situation will blow over, and Tim will prove that he can protect himself in other ways, to both his father and Bruce.

And once again his reality shifts: swinging fists and lies and the fast, spiraling rapids of life.

He thinks of steady hands and the quiet click to the loud bang of a gun. He will wait it out, he foolishly thinks. He has practice being patient.

a/n:

so basically this could go a NUMBER of ways, holy. i had so many plans that i derailed and thought over and whatnot

i originally was going to go for tim being a sniper wayyy earlier, like shooting bruce with tranqs post-jason death (which, by the way, tim would've gone through SO many hoops for that, dude is way too tiny to pass as over 18 and has to be a pretty damn good liar to his parents), never becoming robin (prob would've become a vigilante, just with guns)

but oh man in this version i haven't even GOTTEN to sniper! timmy yet...

also! discussed another cool idea with my wonderful beta @pinkcowzz about reverse robins where tim comes back from the dead as a sniper would also be fun. there are many ways that this au could branch out lmao

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otherworldlygate · 20 days

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Once again it's Regal appreciation hour by which I mean day by which I mean year by which I mean lifetime.

I was very much prepared to not write any fanfiction this year, but I cannot divorce myself from how awesome my favorite Symphonia blorbos are and so I am writing yet another stupid fanfic. I feel feral about these characters in general but Raine gets quite a lot of attention (because she's wonderful, obviously) so I don't want to focus on her too much. Regal, on the other hand, has been underappreciated in the ToS fandom since the game's release day, so I must advocate for him.

I've been RPing as him for the last year or so, and together my RP partner and I have written about 320,000 words of a story. I'm having a blast, and a big part of that is because Regal is, despite the flaws in the storytelling of ToS as a whole surrounding him (and how all of the Tethe'alla characters kind of fall flat), a rather well-conceived and implemented character. Yeah, his clothes are dumb (I'm happy to retcon that outfit with zero regrets) and the game blows through his story at such a breakneck pace he doesn't get the space or the arc he deserves (he should have taken his shackles off as part of his 'sacrifice' to fight the angels), but he is a genuinely fascinating character who feels, just like many of the others do, as if he belongs very specifically in the world he was created for.

I know a lot of people like to write him as this sad sack of shit just absolutely lost in the grief sauce (see the part about how he didn't get the arc he deserved), but I think that's a mistake. See, the biggest bump in the road for Regal was his lack of understanding of what was happening and why. When you think about it, he was faced with having to kill Alicia seemingly out of nowhere. Like one day he's just minding his business and the next Alicia is gone and very quickly after that she's a monster trying to kill him AND HE HAS NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON. He has no answers. All he knows is that he killed her, and his autistic* brain latches onto that detail because it's all he has.

You have to think, too, about the fact that the game gives him nobody. His parents are dead. George, the only person even remotely close to Regal--someone he's known his *whole life*--betrayed him. (George didn't mean for things to go Like That and he's sorry he did it, but HE STILL DID IT.) Regal doesn't have friends and the extra material makes it clear that he was literally raised, specifically by his father, to be a workaholic. Do you think anyone came to see him in prison? He fought in a coliseum for his life for YEARS. He was on friendly terms with some of the other inmates but the guy had eight years to just sit there and get stuck in the loop of knowing he killed the one person he'd let himself get even remotely close to.

Which is something else people always downplay for some reason. The shit with Alicia isn't just "guy is sad because he killed his girlfriend." It's very much, "guy was born and bred to take on the family legacy" except in this case the family legacy is a company, an island, a noble bloodline, and also the absolutely insane idea that work and profit is all that matters. Everyone else is out to get you. Keep the workers dissatisfied but keep them hooked just enough that they'll never leave. Take no time for fun or friends or merriment. Everything in your life is a business transaction. Don't ever forget it. It's us vs. them. You're alone and you have to make this your entire life or it'll all fall to pieces and it will be your fault.

The drama cd in particular really honed in on that way of being raised and it makes his entire character make complete sense. At a relatively young age his father died and he ended up on top (though it's stated he had to work as a CEO before he was elected via a board to the position of President). Having no other guidelines other than what he was taught--and what George himself adhered to--Regal followed that path...until he ended up miserable, because, despite the way he was raised, he's a goddamn empath**.

After literal YEARS of occasionally running into Alicia and talking to her, he starts forming a connection to her--which is important because he's never allowed himself to do this before. And at one point he realizes he doesn't even know her name...which comes as a surprise to him...and brings with it shame. After this, he starts living for himself. He listens to his employees--something his father never did. He starts enacting rules to protect his employees, particularly from things that would hurt them in the field, because part of what was making him so miserable was wrestling with the empathy of their terrible working conditions on top of just hearing his father's manta repeating itself in his head all the time.

I cannot stress enough how important this is. Alicia, despite being a love interest and someone he was interested in seriously dating and perhaps someday marrying (the details of their relationship are never known but it's almost more tragic if they were just starting to be serious), WAS STILL HIS EMPLOYEE.

He was supposed to protect his employees. He was doing so much to ensure his employees would be safe. And then he killed Alicia.

Alicia, the one person he allowed himself to get close to.

Now, consider the fact that he was raised as a tool and not a beloved son; he was not allowed to have friends and not allowed to make merry. He was under his father's thumb until his father's untimely death--a death, by the way, that only surprised him with its suddenness; he did not grieve that man!! Regal, as a 25-year-old man, had ZERO coping mechanisms. All he had was the truth he was raised under and the fact that he went against that truth AND WAS NOW BEING PUNISHED FOR IT. How can someone like this think of anything except that they are the reason George was put in a position where he had to get rid of Alicia? That the only reason Alicia was experimented on and turned into a monster was because of her connection to Regal?

IT MAKES ME FEEL SO FERAL!!!

The events of the game open his eyes to the ACTUAL truth, to what actually happened AND WHY IT HAPPENED TO ALICIA. In the end he learns he had NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. If he had not befriended and started falling for Alicia, she still would have died--it's just, if she hadn't had a more direct connection to Regal, who knows where she might have met her end. Alone, forgotten? At least someone knew her as she was; at least someone can tell Presea the kind of person her sister was.

The ToS fandom has always loved joking about how Regal's just into punishment as a kink or whatever (and I'll never forgive the shitty non-canon-in-my-heart sequel for leaning so hard into that angle, fuck you fuck you fuck you) but let's be serious about it for a hot second. Yes, I think learning this information puts him on a better path, but you can't erase 8 years of self-loathing and fear instantly. Did you guys really think this man would just forget about the darkest years of his life and start frolicking in fields of flowers?

The trauma he's endured goes so much deeper than "I killed the person I loved," and boiling it down to that really does the character a disservice. The "born for a specific purpose, not allowed to exist outside of that purpose" bit is also given to Colette and Zelos, but while their role is being a sacrifice whose only use is dying or procreating to continue the line to have more sacrifices (absolutely also traumatizing btw), Regal's situation feels a lot more like indoctrinated religion and, very specifically (and no I am not kidding), religious trauma. Again, he endured that very controlled lifestyle complete with a mantra from birth into his early 20s, and the MOMENT he broke away from it too far, his life came crashing down around him in a very painful and traumatizing way.

Now, you might think the religious trauma parallel is unfounded, if not also the indoctrinated religion aspect of it, it could just as easily be a parallel for an abusive and controlling relationship, right down to the betrayal from someone who is supposed to have your best interests at heart the moment you step outside of that control to the feelings of shame and self-loathing and "you did this to yourself."

So whenever I see people joking about what a sad sack of shit he is or whatever, I'm just astounded, especially if it's coming from someone who loves literally any other character in the game. Like, you'll definitely have your blorbos, and I totally understand if Regal just ain't it for you, but I find it really disconcerting that someone might find (for example) Yuan's trauma deeply meaningful but see Regal's as stupid or silly.

I'm pretty sure I started this post to talk about how easy it is for me to RP as Regal because he's just such a great character to sink into and write about, particularly because I like to imagine that, starting in the post-game, he deeply regrets some of the choices he's made in his life, and, rather than lean into the things that have already transpired, he seeks to do what he can to better the world around him with the resources and power that he has.

It's like the ultimate fuck-you to the way his father raised him. He's not wasting the skills he's developed, but he's also not using them to hurt people or for personal or Lezareno profit.

I think most of us love writing about characters who have to work through their trauma, but there's an extra layer here that I particularly enjoy with Regal. With Raine I'm all about her inability to trust easily and her struggle to feel truly comfortable around other people, but with Regal I think it's maybe specifically related to the fact that he has had a lot handed to him that he didn't necessarily want, and his self-sacrificing nature lends itself to him feeling obligated to take it. I fully believe Regal would be happier and better off stepping away from Lezareno and from his family's toxic ass legacy*** (or at least not working it full-time as the acting President) but I can't ignore the fact that...these things are all he has and all he knows. So writing about him attempting to get back into the swing of things, maybe struggling to find time for himself, falling into workaholic patterns by mistake, learning to set boundaries between his private life and his job...all while not being fully satisfied and finding more fulfillment in charity work and other pursuits, just makes him feel like a very well-rounded character. Like...it's believable that he would continue to work a job he didn't particularly love specifically because not only does he not know anything else, but he knows with this position of power he can make a lot of things happen that would be impossible if he just twiddled his thumbs on the sidelines--like financial assistance going to Palmacosta, or his duties as a nobleman to try to get better laws passed in Tethe'alla, etc.

This was a pretty clumsily-written post and for that I am truly sorry. I've just been absolutely insane lately thinking about Regal and I had to get some of why I think he's such a wonderful character out into the world.

*this is just my headcanon but a lot about Regal screams autism to me.

**this is canon as far as I'm concerned. I wrote him this way far before I ever heard the drama cd, and the drama cd just solidified it for me tenfold.

***there's a scene in the hotel with Lloyd I think where Regal says his family's legacy on Altamira started when Tethe'alla flipped over to being a flourishing world last, which means they were in a position of power great enough to build an empire on Altamira already at that time (800+ years ago). I don't want to get into how awful this probably was or how evil the family was because I think you can all imagine that for yourselves. Also, nobody ever mentions the fact that Regal is the last of his family line, but it's a very convenient built-in control tactic to guilt someone into doing as they're told or risk bringing shame to a family that's been going strong and unbroken for over 1,000 years.

#regal bryant #tales of symphonia meta #tales of symphonia

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