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mika-invin · 1 month
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Krutič plotu: nejvíc času tráví s Mirkem (Dušínem) a Jarkou XD
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Tohle je Zbyněk, Zbynda, Zbyňuš, etc. Pamatujete toho malýho kluka, co brečel, že ztratil gingo? This is him now, feel old yet? Původně pochází z Kutné Hory, maminka je švadlena a táta pracuje s koudelí. (: Nedávno se přistěhoval do Stínadel a je celý natěšený zapadnout a se všemi se seznámit (moc mu to nejde). Když ho vykopli z gingařů, protože ztratil lístek, adoptovali si ho Losna s Vláďou. A pak se o tom dozvěděl Mažňák. Takže doteď se pere s Losnou, ale je to custody battle :D Zbyněk je dítě rozvodu. Ale má nesčetno paní Vontů na hlídání.
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mika-invin · 3 months
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Oni, díl 2. (fíč. křen Rychlonožka)
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mika-invin · 4 months
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WIP Wednesday!
I'm currently working on the beginning of chapter 13 of my Brotherband AU, and have about 58,000 words so far!
And a snippet with absolutely no context:
“I still want his ass in jail,” Jesper muttered into Stephen’s shoulder, from where he had buried his face. 
“We can’t.” 
“What?” Jesper jerked his head back, and narrowed his eyes. “We totally can.” 
“Legally, we can’t.” 
“Legally we can’t what?” Hal asked. 
“Put Edvin in jail.”
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mika-invin · 4 months
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RŠ21 #5
Rychlé šípy 21. století: Rychlonožka
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mika-invin · 4 months
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RŠ21 #4
Rychlé šípy 21. století: Červenáček
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mika-invin · 4 months
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RŠ21 #3
Rychlé šípy 21. století: Jindra Hojer
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mika-invin · 4 months
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RŠ21 #2
Rychlé šípy 21. století: Jarka Metelka
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mika-invin · 4 months
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Moderní designy RŠ (#1)
Jak tak prohlížím zdejší foglarovské blogy, všímám si, že vícero z vás kreslí postavy Rychlých šípů v různých alternativních vesmírech. To mě inspirovalo, a tak teď pracuji na vlastní sérii obrázků - RŠ postavy ve 21. století (dále jen RŠ21).
Zatím mám rozkresleno všech pět Šípů a Bratrstvo KP. Zde je jako první Mirek Dušín.
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(Kdybyste si vzpomněli na nějaké další důležité postavy nebo by vás napadlo něco k designu, pište. Budu se těšit všem připomínkám.)
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mika-invin · 5 months
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for requests. i need. valen x male magister merlin. im a sucker for this guy. anything really. thank you!
Ooh, I’ve never read an x reader/MC fic, let alone written one! New territory, as exciting as it is scary.
I’m not so sure I have a good grip on Valen’s character, but I tried to write it from his perspective. I hope this suits your needs! It gets a bit philosophical. And sorry if its OOC :,)
He isn’t sure what to think, really.
They’re sitting around a dying campfire, just outside the borders of the Dark Forest. Lorsan is pacing somewhere in the distance, muttering to himself, or to the wind, maybe. Trying to figure out what’s happened to his home. Korin leans against a tree, tending to his wounds- courtesy of Merlin. The magister himself is across from Valen, wrapping his own wound and chattering with his hamsters.
Logically, Valen knows that the lesson he should have taken from this scramble is a lot more profound than what’s been on his mind. He should be contemplating the Wilders, the forest, their next steps, how to protect the refugees. And he’s trying to, but it’s just that something- someone- keeps catching his attention.
He didn’t know Merlin could bleed.
It’s such a silly observation. But as Valen watches the angry red wound on Merlin’s forearm, his gut twists. It’s like seeing a god’s flesh tear, and seeing that its blood is the same bright red as his own.
Valen isn’t sure what exactly Merlin is. As far as he knows, no one does, not even Merlin himself. But to the average young Lightbearer, he’s a myth. A legendary figure that you might glimpse once in your life, but would never get to meet. Never speak with, let alone camp alongside. Fight alongside. Merlin throws his head back to laugh at something Chippy has said, and something stirs in Valen’s ribs, something he knows is dangerous.
All of this is dangerous. Merlin is not someone to be loved; Valen has seen what happened to Mirael. Forgotten about, left in the dust, accidentally as it was. The way she watches Merlin, her face made of mixed admiration, bitterness, and regret. He wonders if she would take it all back, if she could. Scariest of all, when she bid them farewell, the look in her eyes sent an ugly pain of jealousy through Valen’s chest. And he doesn’t want that to happen to him, selfish as that may be. Every time Merlin falls asleep, he risks waking up knowing nothing.
Besides, what is Valen to a hero of myth? His whole life has been barely a blink in Merlin’s. Whatever he is, there is no reasonable way Valen could ever mean something to Merlin the way that Merlin is beginning to mean something to him. Merlin will outlive him a thousand times over. And he’s probably met a thousand different people, fallen in love with quite a few of them. Someone who has experienced so much life, so much loss, can they still love? Could they ever?
And yet, he bleeds. It’s such a human weakness that it seems impossible. Valen knew heroes could bleed; he didn’t know gods could. Merlin does not go about the world serene and calculating, watching every moment with practiced ease. He stumbles, laughs, misses with his spells. He jostles Valen’s pauldron excitedly when they win a fight, he’s the last to flee when they lose, ensuring everyone else has disengaged safely. He has only one dimple, on his left cheek. Sometimes he speaks so fast his words blend together, and Hammie has to remind him to slow down. It’s endearing. It’s human. Valen doesn’t know what to do with it. Because it was so much easier, to write off affection as admiration. When the pieces had first clicked, he thought it all made sense. The natural pull that the magister gave off- yes, of course, it was just Merlin’s nature. But they’re a week into this camaraderie, and Valen keeps noticing things like the lick of hair on his neck that doesn’t sit flat.
Pretty fucking annoying, that’s what it is. Valen’s always prouded himself on his ability to swerve out of love’s path. He can flirt and charm all he wants, but at the end of the day all the love letters he receives are ink and paper, nothing more. Whenever someone seriously reciprocates- god forbid- he disengages as smoothly as he can, lest they get the wrong impression.
But Merlin has changed all that, somehow. Impossibly so. He supposes it’s in his nature, to take everything and turn it upside down. Valen doesn’t want to flirt with the Magister, to laugh as he flushes under his praise. Well, it would be nice, he always has liked the attention; but the thing is, that isn’t the point. With Merlin, he just wants to be. No performance, no elaborate courtship. Just… be. Together. All this, for someone who is more myth than man.
It seems like the scariest thing he’s ever faced.
“Valen?”
He jumps as the magister suddenly speaks, and realizes with mounting embarrassment that he’s been staring the whole time. Luckily, the magister grins good-naturedly- and ah, there’s that dimple again.
“Lost in thought?”
“You could say that.”
He leans back on his hands and forces his face into a smirk. It’s easier than he anticipated; despite everything, Merlin makes it simple to be around him.
“I’ve been meaning to say,” Merlin mirrors his position as Chippy and Hammie scuttle away, the former setting off on a quest to climb the nearest tree, “I really appreciate your help in all of this. Coming along, and aiding me- far past your assigned duties. It isn’t lost to me.”
Valen gives him a look. “Of course, magister. I’m not one to leave danger to fester; I’m sorry you ever had that impression of me.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s…” Merlin’s brow furrows as he collects his thoughts. “You know, you seem so… charmingly nonchalant. Like nothing bothers you. But that clearly isn’t true. You care a lot, Valen, and it’s really, really nice to see. You’re someone who is just… good, you know? And I appreciate it.” He grins sheepishly. “Sorry. Kinda cheesy compliment. I’ve lost all my memories, you know, but being around you- and Lorsan, Cassadee, Mirael- honestly, I don’t feel like I’m missing much of anything. Everything I need is right here.”
He shrugs and turns back to the fire, as if he has not sent Valen’s mind reeling. Functionally, Merlin has been aware for only a week- one week out of thousands of years. He’s wondered how he’s been so calm about the whole thing, and…
And it’s hard to believe, but it’s much harder to doubt what Merlin says, not as he stares into the fire with that soft smile. It dawns on Valen that he probably knows more about Merlin than Merlin does- all of the legends, at least. And yet, despite that insurmountable legacy, despite the name and title that bears unimaginable weight, Merlin is… content. Content in just moving forward, and hoping he’s doing the right thing.
And isn’t that all that Valen’s doing, as well? He doesn’t deserve all this praise; he always shies away from large displays of gratitude, loathing how awkward they make him feel. Because he’s just moving forward, and trying to do the right thing. It’s a simple motive, really. Faith, and what effort it takes to retain it. He always thought Merlin would have some deeper, existential knowledge of the world that would put all else to shame- access to the secrets of the universe, and what not. And, certainly, his magical capabilities are second to none- but his philosophy, the way he lives; it very well might be human after all.
Maybe the usual Merlin, the one with all his memories, is the knowledgeable, immovable sage that Valen grew to look up to. Maybe, once restored, Merlin will become that god-like fairytale hero, wisdom surpassing all others, power knowing no ends.
Selfishly, Valen hopes that never happens. That the Merlin in front of him stays the same, annoying dimple and all, and keeps looking at Valen like that. Like he sees something in him that Valen never knew was there. He hopes Merlin never raises above their quips, their banter.
He know’s it’s all in vain. But god, he hopes.
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mika-invin · 5 months
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"Hal? Why are there two royals in my kitchen?"
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mika-invin · 5 months
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"What the hell are you doing?"
"Are you asking as a skirl or as a friend."
"As a friend."
"Excelent, because I am stealing these."
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mika-invin · 6 months
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Ingvar: Seriously, Ed, don't worry about it. Edvin, to the staff: Excuse me, he asked for NO pickles.
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mika-invin · 6 months
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Stig: is that my shirt?
Hal, in a shirt that’s obviously way too big on him and definitely not his: no
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mika-invin · 6 months
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Inspirováno @maxmilian-koudelka a jedna scéna @morti0re ;)
Beta čtenář @milkwithcoffeeinacup , takže chyby nejsou má chyba XD
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rychlé šípy (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mirek Dušín/Jarka Metelka Characters: Mirek Dušín, Jarka Metelka, Otakar Losna Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jarka needs a hug, so he gets one Summary:
Všechno to začalo, když jsi mě vzal za ruku. Tam, u Šmejkalovy ohrady.
…dnes jsi mě za ruku nevzal…
„Taky TY už tomu taky věříš?!“ „Ale – ale ne, nevěřím-“
…tak co teď ?
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mika-invin · 6 months
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rychlé šípy (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mirek Dušín/Jarka Metelka Characters: Mirek Dušín, Jarka Metelka, Otakar Losna Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jarka needs a hug, so he gets one Summary:
Všechno to začalo, když jsi mě vzal za ruku. Tam, u Šmejkalovy ohrady.
…dnes jsi mě za ruku nevzal…
„Taky TY už tomu taky věříš?!“ „Ale – ale ne, nevěřím-“
...tak co teď ?
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mika-invin · 6 months
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Hlavokánon? Ono to není kánon?
Mám menší hlavokánon, a to že na konci Tajemství Velkého Vonta, při modrém zázraku se Jarka s Mirkem drželi za ruce.
(idk proč ale dává mi to smysl)
(možná to nakreslim ale nevim nevim)
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mika-invin · 6 months
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Čumblerstvo
Jelikož mi @zluty-spendlik nasadil brouka (špendlík) do hlavy, dovolila jsem si vytvořit takový drobný dotazník na fandomy... Je to spíš pro zajímavost popř hledání nových kamarádů ;)
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