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andypantsx3 · 1 year

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hiii weird question so sorry if you dont feel like answering this (bc thats totally okay) but i have a question about world building in royal aus… im literally about to knaw my entire fist off clean out of frustration (💀)

thank you in advance for reading and i hope youre doing well !! ! !! !

Hello my angel!! Is your question just generally, like, what goes into worldbuilding for a royal/historical type of AU?

If yes then I'd love to tell you what I know--although it's like, very little lmao. The only royal AU I've written is in cinders (and war paint kind of, since that's a tie in), and I was woefully inexperienced when I wrote both.

But for in cinders, the story focused largely on class differences, so a lot of the world building I did was to supplement that point. Basically I had two main tasks:

Establish a recognizable hierarchy

Supply some detail to emphasize that hierarchy

And I think in general, the way we observe historical periods is through things like clothes, living/working conditions, and linguistic cues--so those were the places that I chose to supply the detail.

Establishing a hierarchy

Okay so to establish our ranking system, I basically just janked existing noble titles and ranks. I found this Wikipedia article, and narrowed everything down to the European titles as those are the ones I am most familiar with--and as in cinders is a Cinderella retelling and that is a European fairy tale.

Obviously our love interest Shouto was gonna be a prince, but I made sure to weave in other ranks as well to make it clear there was a peerage system at play. Bakugou became a Marquis, Asui become a Countess, Camie became a Lady (as a daughter of a minor noble like a Baron/Viscount might be referred to) etc.

I also wanted our poor Y/N to be at the bottom of the totem pole because I am a monster, so I also looked into the hierarchies among servants. I can't find the exact resources I used but I basically googled around to find out a) what typical castle servant roles were, like in this article, and b) what that reporting structure would have looked like, as in this article.

Scullery/kitchen girls are like, the lowest ranked (RIP) so Y/N got assigned that lmao.

Supplying the deets

Now that we have our vague hierarchy established, it's time to emphasize it! Like I said, historical periods (and class distinctions therein) are usually analyzed in terms of clothes, living/working conditions, and linguistic cues, so that's where I chose to add detail.

For clothes, I mainly drew attention to Y/N's low rank by how much she admired clothes that weren't her own. When she stole Lady Camie's dress, she narrates the "luxurious thickness of Lady Utsushimi’s skirts," implying her own skirts are thinner and more barren. Y/N's own clothing is described more in terms of its state and function: "You shook your head, grasping your soot-stained skirts and glancing meaningfully at her clean chair."

Shouto's clothes draw less of that distinction but still help set the fantasy/historical context. I basically gave him a bunch of historical buzzwords like breeches and doublet to show the period: "He wore a doublet in a blue color only one shade lighter than your own gown, and the high points of his starched collar curved up towards his sharp jawline," and "You noticed he was dressed plainly, a soft linen shirt, unadorned, tucked somewhat untidily into simple breeches."

In terms of living/working conditions, I emphasized Y/N's lack of means again by recounting a lot of her job duties: peeling vegetables, scrubbing pans, sweeping out the kitchen fire places, not exactly high-class stuff. I also put her and Ochako in a supply closet that doubled as a sleeping chamber to drive it home that wow, they poor af. For her sleeping arrangements, I gave her a straw pallet so poorly constructed that straw kept poking through and stabbing her in the back.

In contrast, Shouto's living situation is described with a mind to emphasizing how large and fancy all his shit is. He has rooms plural, and a ton of things to put in them: "The prince’s chambers spread out before you, so large they could fit the kitchens three times over. You looked to be in a sitting room, peppered with low tables and couches overstuffed with bright pillows. A large, ornate writing desk sat against one corner, covered in papers. On the far wall, a series of double doors lay open, leading deeper into his apartments. You caught a glance of a four postered bed deep within, covers dripping off the sides to lay crumpled on the floor like they had been kicked off in haste."

And lastly, linguistic cues! I don't know enough about upper class vs lower class speech in historical periods and also wasn't willing to invest huge amounts of time in this, but I did want to give some nod to a historical/fantasy setting with word choices that aren't quite modern.

If you've ever heard a Shakespearean insult, it's so clear that one of the major places modern English differs from something like Elizabethan English is insults. So when Y/N insults Kamiko, instead of having her call her a cuntwaffle or whatever choice phrase we might use today, she calls her a toad. Shouto asks if Y/N's mother has been called a dog, and Y/N replies with something like, no, a swine--as apparently back in the day people liked to toss animals around as insults.

I also just jammed a bunch of old-timey sounding phrases into everyone's speech, like perhaps and a bajillion forgive mes and until tomorrows. And I think even if a lot of the other speech sounds modern, those kinds of phrases still help highlight that the setting we are in is not 21st century.

Conclusion

Anyway all of this to say, when writing a historical/fantasy/royal AU like this one, you should focus on the elements that are key to your story--what ways of life are you detailing; commoners, adventurers, soldiers, nobility etc? Then, with that in mind, research key points of period expression unique to those ways of life: clothes, speech, living conditions, and sprinkle those details throughout!

I am also still a novice writer though, and I am a notorious skimper on details, so if anyone else has better tips please feel free to jump in!! Otherwise, I hope this helped!!

#ask andie

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btsslowburnfic · 3 years

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The Arrangement Ch 17

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: Part one of the photoshoot

Previous Chapter here

The work week proceeded as normal. Well, what had become normal. Delivering coffee and reminding Yoongi to eat, answering emails, trying to figure out which meetings Yoongi actually needed to go to and which ones were a waste of time. Of course you always went to the meetings, and holy shit you couldn’t believe the topics couldn’t have been discussed via email. You were looking forward to this particular day because you got to go visit Hoseok in the style department and Jimin had decided he was tagging along “for funsies.”

Yoongi was supposed to go and get measured and try on clothes for his photoshoot. When you reminded him that morning he laughed at you, “Uh no. Hoseok knows what size I wear. He can figure it out. Go look at the clothes and I might try some of them on tonight.”

You and Jimin met up for lunch and then headed up to the styling department.

“I’m excited. I’ve never been to a photoshoot before.” You said bouncing up and down in the elevator.

“Yeah, they’re pretty boring actually. Like if it’s with some of the hotter models it’s a little fun for the eye candy, but then you feel bad for them because they have to sit for so long making awkward faces. They are constantly getting their make-up and hair touched up. Touch base with craft services to make sure there’s plenty of water. The lights are bright.”

You took out your phone, “Oh thanks. I wouldn’t have even thought about that. Any other tips?”

“It’s Yoongi. It won’t take as long as it does with the other people. He’ll show up, do it, and leave. JK and Tae, especially Tae, want to chat with everyone on set and if they are together it takes foreeeeevvvveeeeeerrrrr.”

“Huh, ok. Thanks.” The two of you arrived at JHOPE Fashion and walked through the rainbow vomit doors.

Hoseok was wearing glasses with yellow lenses today, which made his dramatic facial expressions stand out even more. He immediately rolled his eyes. He pointed to you. “You are not Yoongi.” He pointed to Jimin. “And you are not Yoongi.” He put his hands on his hips. “So why are the two of you here?”

“I’m sure you can guess why.” You responded dryly.

“Ugh. That ungrateful man. I had lovingly hand stitched these pieces. For him. These patches...” Hoseok pressed his fingers together as though he was praying. “Fine. Fine. You. Y/N. Come. You. Jimin. Wait right there.”

Jimin’s eyes went wide. “Me? Why do I have to wait here?”

Hoseok turned from where he had started to walk towards the back. “You will thank me in a minute. A certain someone is coming to get his fitting in a few minutes.” He raised an eyebrow and then turned around, his heels clacking against the red tile floor.

Jimin started to blush profusely and before you could ask, Hobi interrupted, “Come new girl. We have work to do especially if that boss of yours refuses to come here and experience these magnificent beauties for himself.”

You followed him through the large door, which led to lime green hallways and then to a quiet, more muted workspace. The walls were lined with fabric bolsters, the middle tables with ribbon, thread, patches, paint. Paint?

Hoseok sat down. “From what I understand, this album will have an acoustic feel to it versus his previous albums. For that reason I have chosen these natural materials such as cotton, linen, and denim.” He spread out several pieces onto the large table. “I have also opted for a more neutral pallet, as much as it hurts my soul. I have chosen colors found in nature. I have chosen brightly colored accessories such as these silks to stand in contrast with the stiff fabric and more neutral colors he will be wearing. Additionally, I avoided black. We’ll see if he notices.”

You watched as he draped the red and purple silks over the top of the clothes. For whatever reason, you found it mesmerizing watching the fabric juxtapositioned in such a way. “It’s so cool to hear you tell a story just using clothes.” You said, somewhat enchanted.

Hoseok flicked his eyes up to you, “Thank you. That is what I try to do with my collections. Everyone’s outfit tells a story, even if they don’t mean for it to. May I?” He asked, stepping back and gesturing at you.

“Oh man. You know I don’t dresses fancy--”

“Shhhh you don’t tell me.” He looked at your outfit. You had opted for an Aline skirt and blouse with a casual blazer. “You had meetings this morning, that’s obvious by the jacket. You usually dress cuter. Which means you are either sick or not feeling great. You look fine. So I’m guessing...you are on your period. Sorry, this just comes out, I can’t stop it,” he paused for a moment as your jaw dropped open slightly. He stepped closer, inspecting the shoulders of your jacket. “The blazer is at least ten years old but you shouldn’t have had a blazer ten years ago unless it was for your school uniform and that isn’t a school jacket. Which means it probably belonged to an older sister or aunt. You are very responsible and well organized otherwise you wouldn't be Yoongi’s assistant. Therefore you are most likely the oldest or only child so that is your aunt’s jacket. Your blouse is nice. You actually like it, you’ve worn it twice in the week you’ve been working here. You bought it at a thrift store. You don’t spend a lot of money on yourself, but you are very confident. Therefore, it’s not that you don’t think you deserve nice things, it’s just that you can’t afford them so you likely grew up poor and it has continued into your adulthood.”

“Holy shit. You should be a detective.” You said to him.

“The shoes, I gave you last week. They don’t have a story yet, other than a very good -looking man in a suit helped you out because Jimin said you were a nice girl. You wear zero accessories which shows a lack of both funds and sentimentality. Most people have at least one piece of jewelry that means something to them, but if you have one, you don’t wear it.” He smiled at you, his white teeth gleaming. “ Now, how much am I right about?” He crossed his hands in front of his chest.

You clapped your hands as though you were in an audience. “All of it. Although I am still weirded out that you know I’m on my period. Next time I’m going to wear something skin tight to throw you off.” You joked.

“Well,” he started, “At least now that you work here you don’t have to worry as much right?”

Given the shitshow you went through this weekend you weren’t sure about that, but you shrugged, “It definitely pays better. And money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure helps make some things less hard.” You gestured to the pile of fabric on the table, “So...what do I do? Take these clothes with me for Yoongi to try on or will they be at the photoshoot tomorrow? Do I need to bring them to the photoshoot?”

Hoseok sighed dramatically, “I could dress Yoongi drunk, in my sleep. He can just show up tomorrow and I will dress him then. My staff will make sure the clothes and accessories are at the photoshoot. Here,” He walked over to one of the garment racks. “More clothes for you. I know you have a big closet. And if you run out of space, just take Yoongi’s, he only wears like three things despite my best efforts.”

You laughed, “Yeah, you’re not kidding. Ok thanks,” You took the clothing. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble. Feel free to see yourself out, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and please make sure the catering has strawberries.”

“Strawberries? Got it.” You were learning so much today.

You exited the backroom and saw Jimin over near one of the pedestals. He was chatting with JK who was getting fitted with a corset. What an itty bitty waist, you admired. The two of them seemed to be having a good time and you had a new list of things to do so you waved at Jimin and headed to 1802 to drop off your new clothes. You had forgotten Hoseok knew you lived with Yoongi. The week had flown by.

You sent a text message to Jiwoo asking if you could stop by her desk and ask her a few questions to make sure everything was set up for tomorrow and then stopped by the apartment.

You conferred with her and learned how to navigate catering requests via the company website; apparently it wasn’t available on the app, good to know. you felt much better about the shoot tomorrow but still nervous and excited.

You knocked on the door to Genius Lab. No answer. Never any answer. You typed the code in and saw Yoongi wearing his headphones, lost in his own world. He had told you to just wait on the sofa when this was the case and that he would eventually notice you. Normally the smell of coffee was what alerted him to your presence, but you had come empty handed today. You sat down on the couch and took out your phone.

YN: I don’t mean to alarm you. But there’s something behind you.

You saw his phone light up. He ignored it for a minute, presumably to finish listening to a song, and then picked it up. You heard him laugh and take off his headphones. “You are the worst.” He spun around.

“So mean. Hey. Tomorrow is my first photoshoot. I checked on the outfits for you. By the way, Hoseok is like Sherlock Holmes with clothing. I learned I’m supposed to contact catering, I have hair and make-up requests in. Do I need to do anything else?”

Yoongi thought for a minute. He never really participated in that side of the photoshoot, now that he reflected on it. He walked his way through a day on set. “No. The changing rooms and photography are handled by other departments. Check with Jiwoo or Jimin, they’ve both set up a shoot before.”

“I did. I’m getting ready to send in the last food request. Any requests?”

“Mandarins. I don’t like to eat a lot on set because I don’t want stuff getting stuck in my teeth.”

“That makes sense. Ok. I’ll let you get back to it then.” You got up and stretched.

“Tomorrow will go fine. If you forgot anything, it will be somewhere in this building.” He reassured you.

“That makes me feel a lot better.” You said honestly. “Alright, I’ll see you around.”

“Later.”

--------------------

The next day arrived with Yoongi heading off to the hair and make-up department and you heading to the 11th floor to see what the photo set up looked like. You exited the elevator. Man your hands were sweaty, you followed the sounds of voices and made your way to the shooting location. The lighting crew was checking their overheads, a stand-in was posing on the various props they had set out. It looked as though there were three separate “areas” for shooting photos. One area had a large white couch, complete with coffee table, rubber plant, magazines. The whole set up designed to look like a living room. A second space was a blue sheet with a white background. The third space was a kitchen, complete with an island, stovetop, and refrigerator. Holy moly this space was huge. You marveled at it.

“Hello, can I help you?” An older man walked over.

“Oh hi, I’m YLN. Yoongi’s assistant. I was stopping by to check the set up. It looks incredible.”

“Thank you. Yes. Here, let me walk you through it.”

You received a tour of the set and also an overview of the order of shooting. You also found out that next week, weather permitting, there would be a second shooting at the park across the street. You got catering checked in, or at least pointed to the table and felt like you did a thing. The same happened when the clothing team showed up. You pointed to dressing rooms and the vanity where the accessories trunk should go. You were thankful no one had asked you any questions so far. This was a steep learning curve. You had hoped someone you knew might be here today to help ease your nerves, but so far, it was all new faces.

Finally, you saw one familiar face. Alice walked in, carrying a small case with her. You waved.

“Hey! It’s nice to see you again.” She said. “I had no idea you were Yoongi’s assistant until today.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I didn’t mention that. I was so overwhelmed that first day,” you smiled.

“No worries. He was just telling me and Bongcha that he had an assistant now. He’s almost done. His make-up is setting. I’m on hair today which isn’t my strong suit, but it’s not like he’s needing a fancy up-do or anything and it’s good for me to practice.”

“Ok great. This is my first time at a photoshoot, so if there’s something I’m supposed to be doing but I’m not, can you let me know?” You confided in her.

“Absolutely. It looks like most of the stuff is set up how it usually is. Just remember,” she got closer to you and spoke quieter, “You are Yoongi’s assistant. Some of these people, especially these older guys will try to get you to do stuff like get their coffee, grab them snacks. That is not your job. It’s not by job. If they have an assistant, it’s their job.”

“I knew I liked you when we first met,” you smiled at her. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Anytime Unnie.”

She walked over and took out her hair tools and placed them on the table reserved for hair and make-up. A few minutes later you saw Yoongi walk in wearing a black shirt and grey sweats. His face looked even more beautiful than normal. Next to him was a petite girl with long black hair pulled up into a ponytail, dragging a make-up train behind her. Yoongi looked around for a second, and then locked eyes with you. You saw the tiniest smile threaten to come out as he walked over.

“Hey. Everything here looks good.” He gestured to the room.

“Thanks. I didn’t do most of it, I just pointed and people seemed to know what to do already. Your face looks good.”

Yoongi chuckled, “You can thank Bongcha for that. Bongcha, this is YN.”

Bongcha stuck out her hand, “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you as well. You do good work. I give his face a 10/10. Highly recommend.”

“Well, it’s easy when you have such a great model to start with,” She smiled while looking up at Yoongi.

Yoongi had started to blush between the pair of compliments. “Is Hoseok here yet?”

“No not yet.” You took out your phone to see if you had any messages from Hoseok. Nope. You looked back up, “Bongcha, I’m sure you already know, but the make-up table is over there. Alice is setting up right now.”

“Great, thanks!” She headed over, her shiny hair swishing behind her.

Speak of the devil in blue himself, Hoseok strutted in at that exact moment wearing an electric blue suit. His crisp white shirt underneath popped beneath the jacket, and his pocket square had little sunshines on it.

“Wow. You look like the sky.” You said before you could help it.

“Thank you. Indeed. It was my inspiration today. It’s a crime to be indoors beneath these artificial lights on such a beautiful day. Oh well. It can’t be helped.” He laid eyes on Yoongi, like a predator gazing on its prey, “Yoongi. Baby. Come.”

Yoongi scrunched his face. “Don’t call me baby. If you miss the sunlight so much, leave. I know how to dress myself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don't know which pieces go together.” Hoseok grabbed Yoongi by the shoulders and started leading him over to the clothing section, leaving you to laugh at the pair of them. You went over to the table you had set up for yourself between make-up and the food. You had printed off several lists that morning to help you stay focused. You checked off several action items. Satisfied, you sat your clipboard down and looked around. It was a well-oiled machine for sure. You walked over to the hair and make-up table. “Hey ladies.”

“Hey! Have you two met yet?” Alice asked, referring to Bongcha.

“Yep, we just did.” Bongcha confirmed, putting on her make-up apron and filling it with various powders and brushes.

“Ooooo we should do a make-up party sometime.” Alice squealed. “We try to do it with all the new girls. And since Yoongi is” she hushed her voice again “One of our favorites. We have to take care of his assistant.”

You smiled, “Sure. That sounds nice. Excuse me.” You decided to go see how the clothes were going.

“Yes. Yoongi’s assistant. So glad you’re here.” Hoseok turned to you.

“She has a name, it’s YN.” You heard Yoongi say from behind the curtain.

“Yes yes. I know. We talked yesterday, remember? At that meeting I scheduled for me and you that you did not come to. Anyways, here. The outfits are now coordinated. They have tags on them corresponding to their accessory in the accessory trunk. Some pieces have more than one option that the Director of Photography and Yoongi will decide on. Got it?”

You looked over the set up. It seemed simple enough since Hoseok had organized it so well .”Yep. You going out to enjoy the sunshine?”

“Honey, I am the sunshine. I’m off to get laid after having to deal with this cloudy baby.” He gestured to the changing room.

“Don’t call me baby.” Yoongi shouted from behind the curtain. You just laughed as Hoseok turned around and left. You waited for a few minutes.

“You ok in there? Need me to come help you put your pants on?” You teased.

“Not necessary.” Yoongi slid open the curtain. Why was everyone teasing him today? He pouted without thinking about it.

You walked over, straightening the collar of his shirt “Hey now, you can’t go around pouting like a baby and not expect people to call you one. Here,” you handed him a mandarin. He scowled at you as he took it. “Such a pretty face” You laughed.

“Yeah whatever. I can eat this while they set up the white meter. You should be fine to just hang around at this point.”

“Alright. Sounds good.” The two of you walked over to the main part of the set where the Director gave Yoongi instructions about where to sit as they practiced the blocking and softbox placement.

“Oh my god he looks so good eating that tangerine.” You overheard. Your eyes bugged out slightly and you turned around. A group of women from the photography team were looking at the images to check the saturation and focus, as well as apparently the model. Damn. NEXT CHAPTER

@lidda @anpanman-sonyeondan @firefairy1 @cuteipat @sugaslittlekookies @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny @livelyjay @niniita-ah @bobbyboops @honeysunandsoil @deathkat657

#BTS suga #bts writing #bts fic #suga x you #suga x reader #yoongi scenarios #bts yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #bts suga x reader #bts suga x you

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radioactivepeasant · 4 years

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Fic Prompts: Star Wars Wednesday

(Another excerpt from my "accidentally made a 12k document out of this prompt" fic. Long post incoming)

The last gear turned at seven o'clock in the morning. The counterweights clattered, and the brass doors swung open. The boy looked dead on his feet. Vader knew enough about being the walking dead to recognize the exhaustion.

"Congratulations," he said calmly. "Most never make it this far. I do confess-" he interrupted himself with a grunt as he left his throne- "That I expected you some hours ago. I'm afraid that time has run out."

"No."

Vader raised an eyebrow. Luke was pale, and trembling, and the cut over his eyebrow bled sluggishly. He could smell the boy's blood now. He could smell Padme's blood. If there had been any doubt about his identity before, it was gone now. And despite all he had fought through, the child was still clinging to a shred of defiance.

"I beat your stupid game!" Luke shouted. "You said I had to find evidence of my father. I did."

This was unexpected.

"Oh? Did you now?" Vader approached slowly. "And what have you found, little one?"

With a sharp, angry gesture, Luke motioned to the floor. "Your castle. The warding runes on every load bearing pillar in the great hall are all written by the same hand. They're laid out in the shape of a japor charm. Just like my mother's necklace."

Vader leaned back on his heels, astonished. He studied the boy's face, wavering between anger and fear, for some time before he burst out laughing.

"Aren't you clever?" he laughed, "I must say, I am impressed. I set you a trial and you've proven yourself admirably."

He sobered quickly. "However, you are mistaken on one point. I said that you were to find proof of your father's death. Not his life. There is ample evidence of that, though I would expect few to be able to interpret it."

He closed the distance between them with two great strides and offered a thin smile. "There will be time to decide your fate in the evening. For now, I suspect you have exhausted the last reserves of your strength."

Somewhere in the inner sanctum, the nursery he had prepared long ago sat gathering dust. It would suit the boy well enough for now. The infantile wall hangings might need to be removed, of course, but nothing else need be touched.

It was, Vader decided, a good day.

[[MORE]]

Luke didn't remember collapsing. He knew he must have, or he wouldn't be waking up now. But the last thing he remembered was stumbling back to put some distance between himself and Vader.

How was he still alive?

Morosely, Luke wondered if the rumors of Vader being a vampire were true, and he was being kept for dinner. That probably explained why the dark lord had said his fate would be decided in the evening.

Well. Luke wasn't going to let that happen.

Opening his eyes took a herculean effort, but he knew that if he wanted to survive, he had to get up. His head pounded, all but begging him to close his eyes and go back to sleep. It would've been so easy; he was already bone-weary from the midnight march to the castle, and the sheer number of traps he'd had to avoid and broken stairs he'd had to climb had steadily drained his remaining reserves of energy.

It didn't help that he hadn't eaten anything since the day before. There had been puddles of rainwater here and there in the castle, where the roof needed repairs, but Luke hadn't been brave enough to drink from them. His throat felt as if it was trying to remind him very pointedly of this fact.

Slowly, as if by centimeters, Luke pushed himself upright. A heavy cloth fell to his lap with a quiet rustle, and Luke squinted at it in the darkness. Now that he was actually paying attention to his surroundings, this didn't look like a dungeon. Or wherever vampires kept their potential meals. For one thing, if you were going to kill someone, why go to the effort of putting them in a real bed?

It didn't feel like his cotton pallet on the farm -- the one Owen had worked so hard to buy when Luke outgrew the cradle -- and it certainly didn't feel like the back of the wagon Jabba's men had put him in. Luke bounced experimentally. It was firm, but soft enough that his hands left finger-shaped indentations in the mattress. Maybe all the rooms in the castle were like this?

Although, Luke had been starting to think there weren't any bedrooms in Vader's castle at all.

Had his father truly designed this place? All the runes, the layouts of the floors, everything suggested the hand of Anakin Skywalker. Had he built it for Vader, or was this where Luke would have lived if the Red Horde had never come out of the mountains?

Luke fought to untangle himself from the thick down comforter and rolled over the side of the bed. It was low to the ground, luckily, so it wasn't far to fall. Soft fur met his hands, and Luke recoiled. Had he landed on an animal?!

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Luke realized he was kneeling on a wolf-pelt rug. He thought of the Red Horde's lycanthrope troopers and shuddered.

There was a window somewhere above him, high enough that it only sent a sliver of fading light down into the chamber below. It caught the tarnished silver of stars, set into the two farthest walls in the shapes of galaxies and constellations. They would have been beautiful with some polish. For now, they were hardly visible against the stone.

Luke inched to the door and nearly tripped over a rocking horse. What was a rocking horse doing in a place like this?! He jerked back and looked around him a second time. The small bed, the bookshelf, the stars on the walls...his blood ran cold as he put the pieces together. This was a nursery.

Luke very quickly decided that he did not want to know what had become of its intended occupant.

He scrambled to the door and was relieved to find that it was not locked. Relief soon gave way to unease once more. The nursery, apparently, extended beyond the bedchamber. Wooden swords of varying sizes hung on one wall, with a painted chest beneath them. Luke spotted tin knights, and little model chariots, and even a wooden castle with little dolls peering out of the windows. None of it looked like it had been played with. In fact, Luke wasn't sure they'd even been touched.

Despite himself, he felt an urge to take one of the tin knights with him when he escaped. His family had never been able to afford many toys. Beru had taught him to make soldiers of sticks and straw when he was small, and when they inevitably broke, Owen would let him use them for kindling in the winter.

Thoughts of home settled like a weight in Luke's chest. It was his fault they were dead. He knew that.

If Luke hadn't challenged the tax collectors at market, the baron wouldn't have gotten the idea of handing a Skywalker over to Lord Vader. They'd come in the middle of the night. Luke never even had a chance to bury his aunt and uncle.

Luke bit his lip hard and blinked back tears. Old Ben had traveled upriver to teach the girl from Mother's old letter. Even if Luke did escape, there was no one to go home to.

There was only one part of the room that had not been touched by the dust. Someone had lit a fire in the nursery fireplace. It had to have been recently: the flames were only just beginning to die. On the table beside the fireplace a bowl of fruit and a pitcher of water had been set. Luke's stomach growled pathetically, and he clutched the front of his shirt. Grapes. Those were grapes, still on the vine! Luke sometimes got grapes on his birthday, or during summer festivals. But it was hard for the people in Jabba's territory to get fresh fruit.

He didn't know what the pink fruit was, but he could identify slices of orange and a whole pear. They didn't look like they'd been tampered with, but Luke knew better than to trust appearances. For all he knew, it was poisoned.

Luke edged past the table, and the two wingback chairs facing the fireplace. He needed to focus on escaping.

"Ah. So you've decided to join us after all. I was beginning to think you were going to sleep through the night entirely."

Luke jolted. Someone was sitting in the chair.

Lord Vader sat calmly watching him, a faint, pleased smirk on his face. There was an air of lazy satisfaction about him as he leaned around the edge of the chair and gestured to the bowl.

"Please, help yourself," he said.

Luke raised his chin and hoped he wasn't shaking too visibly. "I'm not hungry."

Vader's sickly yellow eyes seemed almost to twinkle, and he smiled. "Liar."

#star wars wednesday #long post #blood and water fic #star wars fic #star wars au #best described as: local vampire attempts to parent but initially forgets to tell son they are related #vampire au #Castlevania vibes au #luke freaking out about being in an old nursery not realizing it was literally built for him #Vader is naturally scary but he actually really does love Luke #he's so excited to have his son back he forgot to tell him they're related.#in which vader is a dingbat sometimes #my aus #fic prompts #writing prompts

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flatfootmonster · 4 years

Text

Puzzle Pieces

Cold bites but not enough to dislodge me from my spot or my bookmarked thoughts. Orange tongues lick at the darkness eagerly, but as much as my palm hovers over them, enjoying heat spewed into the dark by the fire, the sensation sends no comfort to my feet. The dwindling success found in wiggling my toes every now and again is a good measure of how much more I can take. Winter nights hold less mercy than him—and perhaps a pinch more warmth.

When I told myself I would run no more it was because there’s nowhere for me to go. Thoughts of escape didn’t cross my mind tonight where usually they would tempt; reality warping under illusions a safe haven could be blindly stumbled across if I only dared to look. I’d always retrace my own arguments, follow my own tracks, right back to my bed—an endless, exhaustive circle. But tonight there’s a task, it’s delayed as my pocketed hand remains hidden in cloth, cloaking the artefact I grip—equal parts spoiled reverence and fresh disgust.

There’s no need for it anymore. I’m not sure when the spell was unmade; it was a slow unravelling process leading me to the understanding that no desire or intrigue hid within the mysterious forms—ink against paper. The only thing left after that discovery was a bitter disappointment. I think I’ve been disappointed for a long while now, at first, that was entirely self aimed. Not anymore.

He was the one that scolded for ill words spoken against my betters. Yet if I don’t speak them, they are still true. Ill thoughts come from facts and if they only reside within my skull it doesn’t make them less truthful. Respect remains, as is proper, but I’m wary of memories. I’m ashamed of my feelings—once shunned and sacred, now infantile. I was infatuated, and he broke that with a cold smile and a harder shoulder. How had I ever imagined softness there?

This—this poem—was never for my benefit anyway, and was never given with good feeling. My fingers are cruelly tight around the parchment, they possess an unforgivingness that I cannot wield in my heart. Even if I don’t follow through it will be spoiled. And to think I once risked my life for a list of heartless platitudes.

A cloud of mist materialises beneath my nose as a short snort of laughter burst from my lungs. I’m changing, and I don’t know what I look like or feel like anymore—if I even knew those things in the first place. All I know is I’ve outgrown the box I was placed in and I’ve granted myself the freedom to look deeper at those around me. Even if what I see stays secret, I can understand more detail than a sketch now, I begin to see hues and shade and highlight—nuance. That goes both ways—for the bad and good.

I pull the poem free from its hiding place. It’s necessary to keep moving because that thought process—of looking beyond the two-dimensional outline of a being—always leads me to ground I’m not quite ready to tread. Emotions are dissolving in one part of me as they bloom elsewhere—wild and raw. As much as I’m growing out of selective naivety, these new developments seem just as treacherous. They are unknown and they feel dangerous.

Frigid air expands within my chest before the hand strangling parchment joins the first. One end dangling down, teasing the fire, and the tongues grow longer, eager to devour. Spirits dance within the heat source knowing what needs to be done and what needs to be erased. Another huffed cloud appears when my fingers spring open, orange shivers and devours. There’s not a sound in the world past the crackle of excitement as spirits rejoice in appeasement of their meal. The thing was gone the moment it met the flames.

Ease settles in my chest. If they weren’t so numb, my lips might be persuaded to smile. The dancing flames hold me captive despite knowing that numb lips perhaps indicate that I should move now that it’s done. It’s just hard to summon the will to move because I know I’ll see more change once I do so. Deep within, my structure will have changed, restructured itself somehow and I’ll need to learn how to balance myself. But I’m not sure if my toes are actually moving now when I command them to. I should go back—to my own room, or…

Weight cuts off that wondering notion; an extra layer envelops me as palms smooth over my shoulders. I don’t have time to flinch before he’s moved to the other side of the fire. Suddenly I’m being studied by dark eyes that flay and question on their own before I’ve taken one single breath. I can’t look away, my hands work on their own, drawing the heavy robe around me. His gaze drops to the fire for a heartbeat, gathering information from the spirits, before rejoining mine once more.

“Do you plan on standing here until you turn to ice?”

The fact that he tackles my intentions to remain rather than question my motives means he’s watched; he’s aware of what I’ve done. But even if he hadn’t seen the action he has a way of reading me and knowing. It’s unnerving.

“I was just about to come inside.” Under which part of the roof was never determined.

Head tilting to one side, his study takes in every inch of me as though he’s drawing up an itinerary. I get flustered when he does that, both in agitation and whatever the new thing is that’s evolving—it’s vines twist themself around my gut and chest, constricting and paralysing where they grow.

I’m beginning to realise that this is not a passing fancy. I don’t think I’m a plaything to him either. Honestly, I’ve no idea what I am to him but I know he isn’t sure either—and that’s what makes this different. Constructing fantasies won’t help, so I try to stay grounded. but it’s confusing. Every now and again there’s a sensation like my heart wants to leap out of my mouth when he’s near. Should I feel shame over this, too? Emotions and desires before were held behind a safe shield—untouchable and unreal. All the knots I tie myself into now, because of him, he pulls and yanks and teases without trying.

“I fell asleep waiting for you.” The words are flat—emotionless even. It could just be a stated fact but there’s something more. The adjustment of his chin, as it firms momentarily, and then as his eyebrows draw together, add nuance. I don’t know him well enough to read these expressions, as minute as they are, but if I had to bet on it I’d name it disgruntlement.

I was painting in his room. The thoughts that led me to this spot—and this purpose—had crept in the dark before ambushing my mind. My focus remained firmly on the parchment as they coiled around me, blinding me to everything but highlight, hues, and shade. I didn’t notice when he moved, from his reading spot to the pallet. No clues were picked up on that he was sleeping until I shifted around to work feeling back into my legs. The gentle sound of slumbering breaths caught my attention. It’s an odd sensation, and it always is, when I’m awake and he’s asleep. It’s about the only time when I can describe him as gentle, the unwavering features soften. He looks peaceful and that’s strange to see when his demeanour is usually focussed and sharp; he’s a library of rigid expectation and command in every waking breath.

So, I watched for a while, feeling powerful in one hand and yet protective in the other. Who sees this side of him? There was never anything beyond the forced smile Inhun wore; no weaknesses shown and no upper hand offered. Yet Seungho lays down before me, allows me respite from his perception and gives me free rein. I can’t work out if it’s trust or complacency.

“I was going to come,” I repeat, clamping my teeth shut as they begin to chatter.

Arms folded, his lips quirk into a smile which is neither warm nor cruel. This is another thing we’re both learning—something other than extremes. He doesn’t even have the decency to shiver, as he stands there in the snow wearing only his bedclothes, because when Seungho isn’t unconscious it is absolutely out of the question for him to show any weakness—no matter how human that weakness may be. I’m not sure if that side of him rankles me anymore, it’s more amusing now, although I don’t think I’ll ever have the confidence—or death wish—to laugh at him over it.

“You said that already. Yet here you stand, turning blue. Must I carry you? Were you waiting for me to come and drag you inside?” he pauses, entertained by his own notions before adding, “or carry you like a bride?”

I don’t think my eyes could widen any further as I tussle with indignation. Drawing the robe tight around myself, I smooth out the irritation plucked at by his words before straightening to my full height. “I was doing no such thing, My Lord.” With all the courage I can muster, I make a jerky bow and turn away, willing my feet to do their job while they feel as useless as bricks.

There’s a sound coming from where he still stands, near those dancing spirits, a snort that—if I didn’t know any better—could be laughter. Then he’s at my side. One arm extended, a hand hovers just behind my lower back. I can’t see the gesture but I feel it. I know the heat of it there, as vivid as the warmth from the fire, waiting in case I stumble. He has every right to scold me, in the very least, but he doesn’t—and I’m sure if I could look at him that strange smile would lay on his lips. For the life of me, I cannot figure him out. Every moment I’m blindfolded while assembling a one thousand piece puzzle, and each piece might kiss or bite depending on how I handle it.

“The cold seems to inspire your impudence,” he murmurs. Still, there is no hard edge to be found to this particular piece. “Turning you back on me,” he tsks to himself as we enter the house.

I slip off my shoes and he does the same. “I was following your advice, My Lord.” Perhaps I’ve lost my mind because the sniff added in punctuation is not humble in the slightest. My chin firms as my skin prickles because the mirth that radiates from him agitates me for a reason I cannot fathom. And why am I so perceptive when it comes to his moods? Why do his high spirits always make me mulish lately? The tangled threads of questions dampen my mood and cloud my vision before I catch myself. Hand to his door, I freeze realising, as I am sure he has, that I was about to enter his room without thought or planning. But It was where I’d just come from, well before I sought out the poem that is no longer. That’s why I was returning—it makes sense. But to him, it must look like…

“You’re quite the opposite of a bed warmer right now,” he says as he walks past me.

And just like that my jaw finds its strength once more and I am staring him down, arms crossed over my chest. My purpose nor my intention was to be a bed warmer. I must have gone insane but I cannot help the way he easily plucks at my nerves tonight. Perhaps it was the surprise that came with his apparition outside whilst I was burning embarrassing souvenirs from a life left behind. The act says too much about me and where I stand that I’m not willing to admit out loud—least not to him.

Does he know already?

Once more, he tilts his head to one side as he faces me—considering, amused. His mouth is soft, just like his eyes somehow became, before he offers a smile, it isn’t generous but it's genuine. It feels like an apology. He scans me, probably trying to understand why my feet have frozen on the threshold—no, he knows the why, he’s trying to figure out the undoing. “It’s warmer in here.” It’s given in place of an ask. That is something I’m learning about him: he does not know how to ask. And why would he need to ask a lowborn of anything? But what do I say?

Just as he has no ability to ask simple things, I have no practise in accepting. “I wasn’t finished,” I nod to where I was seated before, paper and brushes spread out around my work. His eyebrows rise by a fraction but he says nothing and gestures me into the room with one large palm.

I take the offer, silently shuffling to stand at my spot, looking down at my work. It was a lie, of course. I’d done everything I wanted on this particular piece, I knew when the last stroke was enough. Usually, I have no idea when a piece is finished, it can lead to ruin at times. Tonight it was intuitive, and as soon as the brush was laid down, I stood and made a quick path to where I’d hidden the poem. I realise, scouring the paper with fresh eyes, that there is something final about the forms beneath my nose, something that puts it apart from what has come before.

“It’s different.” His voice at my shoulder is a shock. He’s crept up on me twice in the space of ten minutes. I try to shoot a scowl at him but he’s standing too near. If I tilt my head to meet his eyes, distraction from my ire will be inevitable. When did he learn to soften his gaze?

The scowl instead finds itself aimed at my feet as I fidget. Does he not like it? It seemed to come so naturally, without thinking, like a song from a morning bird. “Do you dislike it?” I ask, unaware that trepidation apparently lodged itself in my throat. It makes my words vibrate in tension. Do I need him to like it? That wasn’t a part of the agreement and if he doesn’t like it, that’s too bad. I shouldn’t care one single ounce for his appeasement. I shouldn't...

“I never said that,” he murmurs, moving closer. The fact that he’s unreasonably close and the inevitable urge to move into him sets off an itch beneath my skin. “It’s just different,” he pauses and I can hear my own heartbeat. Being cold seems a long-departed problem and it has nothing to do with the warmth filtering through the floorboards and thawing out my toes. My palms are damn, too. “Your face,” he continues, “the expression. Your eyes are closed, and your fingers hold to me, denting my flesh. There are marks down my back. My mouth is at your throat, brow creased. Your mouth is open, perhaps on a moan, and your toes are curled…”

With each clue he states, I begin to see it, too. My breaths deepen like his observations alone are foreplay. When did I become so fickle? “I hadn’t noticed,” the words are whispered; it is a lie, too.

He hums, unconvinced but choosing his battles. “It's not a picture of an act, it’s a portrait of sensation. They aren’t on display for us, they are captivated with each other.”

Wiping my palms off on the borrowed robe, my tongue is absent and my mouth dry. It isn’t fair for him to be so perceptive, to see so clearly into a piece I hadn’t quite understood yet. And that’s what he does, seems to figure me out before I do. All those times, watching me whilst inside of someone else, reading so clearly what I hid from myself with a thin veil of shame. Blindfold or not, I’m a puzzle he has no problem constructing. It makes me vulnerable and that scares me.

“Perhaps.” It’s as much as I’m willing to concede, and it’s quietly done at that because another lie would be too much—even for me. Could he ever be captivated with me?

The trepidation in my throat hardens, it feels like I swallowed a rock. I should go back to my room. That notion lands in time with his arms as they coil around me. “Perhaps?” he asks knowing no answer will come because his breath is on my throat. In truth, he doesn’t need an answer. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open, to stop my neck from weakening so my head can loll on his shoulder. What has he done to me? “Do you like it when I kiss your neck, Nakyum?”

“It’s late.” The only thing left is diversion tactics. I can cope with his demands without consideration; I’ve relied on that to avoid my own agency and desires. But now he’s asking me.

He’s saying my name.

As if he can feel my body summoning the energy required to pull away, to leave this embrace, he holds tighter. He rests his head on my shoulder, then he sighs. “I would like it if you’d stay—someone needs to make sure you’re warm enough after standing outside for so long.”

I’m frozen again. Another ask, even if it is followed by reasoning or an excuse that I can’t quite bring myself to believe. He’s asking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen vulnerability in him, and that’s what this feels like. Out of the confusing tangle of newness within, something very clear sounds: I don’t want to hurt him. It’s an absurd notion, what could I do to him? But it’s there all the same, logic damned. The softness I saw in his eyes, on his lips, is reflected in my answer, in my unwinding muscles. “I’ll stay.” The response is almost illegible to my own ears, I can’t hear much for the blood pounding through me.

When he dictates it’s so easy to lose myself, and then there’s no nervousness because I have no choice to be so. But now it feels like I have power to act on my own urges and that is terrifying. Can I ask of him? How can I do that when I can’t even admit that everything firm, that’s within and without, melts away when his lips are at my neck.

Something eases in him, he’s relieved—pleased with my response. There are butterflies trapped in my stomach, my mind is tripping over expectations of what comes next. I answered in a way that gives permission, he should need that and nothing more. Instead, wings still their beating when his arms release me. He steps back and it takes every bit of stubbornness I can summon not to buckle without his fortifying strength. It’s worrying—much, much more than worrying—to find myself leaning on something. I don’t trust what I seek for support because I’ve been wrong before.

Chills glide over my skin and I rub at my arms. It’s futile because this cold didn’t come from outside. “See,” he impresses, the statement balanced between victory and concern. “Come. Lay down.”

And I do; it’s an instruction, my body follows the lead as trained. Confusing thoughts torment and preoccupy my mind enough that I don’t retaliate against that sheep-like quality I’m starting to abhor. There’s no firming of my chin or crossing of my arms, I’m simply waiting on what happens next.

Disappointment wasn’t what I had in mind. Seungho simply lays down beside me, bundling covers over us and muttering something about my cold feet. Then I’m left to argue with urges and shame in silence and dark—the only presumptuous thing is the thick band his arm makes as it wraps tightly around my middle and his slow breaths on the back of my neck.

Now what?

His question still burns, my inability to answer is an irritant. Do I want to speak on it? It’s a question of what’s at stake, I suppose. What do I lose by gaining my tongue? No one is present to hear the confessions I could proffer to Seungho, I’ll simply be naked in a way he’s never witnessed before. Yet the way he sees things, the way he looks at me, I’m sure he can already imagine that secret part of me—perhaps not the fine detail but he anticipates the sketched outlines. He’s not wrong.

There were constraints holding me before, doctrine I’d prescribed myself on the advice of someone who I trusted. But that’s gone now—smoke and ashes. There’s nothing to stop unlearning those strictures, I just have to find the strength to be bare once more. It was other people’s ears I worried about overhearing my secrets—not Seungho’s. Do I trust him?

My shallow breaths echo around the silent landscape. Is he still awake? I can’t move, I can’t apply the brakes in my thought process. The words have reached my throat and there’s no way they can be forced back down.

“I like it.”

It sounds much too loud but the reality is my words were as minute as a raindrop landing on the ocean. Minute and yet still they cause ripples.

He’s as still as I was, the broad chest pressed to my back unmoving now. The words were caught, they are percolating through the space between us. He edges closer, his lips ghost along my shoulder. “What is it that you like?” he asks, pleasure clear in his voice. My will is gathering itself; he knows exactly what I mean, the question is simply posed to draw out the details. Before ire is finessed enough to engage with my tongue, his breath rushes over my skin and he adds one more sound to the ones that came before—a one-word question seeking reassurance. “Nakyum?”

Does he know what it does when my name is in his mouth? He must know. My brain wants to reinforce mulish behaviour but the rest of me becomes fluid, I’m all too aware of every single inch of his body pressing to mine. I’ve come this far… “I like it when you kiss my neck.” There’s a confidence there, as my lips move, that I wasn’t aware I could wield.

A deceitful stillness descends once more. I want to see his face and learn the expression that comes when he’s hesitant like this—to know the emotions beneath the surface of this vast ocean.

I want to know him.

“Can I?” This rift in stillness causes its own ripples. No, it would be more accurate to call it a tidal wave because the influx of need to demand clarification is suffocating. It forces me to turn, to face him. He asked?

The ask coaxes something playful. I find myself mimicking his game. “Can you do what?”

The same snort I heard outside repeats. I thought I knew better but that was untrue. It is a laugh—or as close as it gets to laughter with Seungho. I made him laugh? The kaleidoscope of butterflies has returned, cascading flights swirling within. “Can I kiss you, Nakyum?”

There’s no thought; no consideration; no hesitation; no shame. There’s only urgency.

“Yes.”

(You can read the first POV I wrote for Seungho here)

#painter of the night #fanfic #seungho x nakyum

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we-rate-tmnt · 4 years

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I request: Leonardo. Please and thank you 🙏.

Idk if everyone loves Leo or if my header and avatar just remind everyone about this amazing blue boy. (This one’s super silly btw. I’m just sillier as time goes on. Character development I guess?)

The iconic leador Leonardo (1987)

Bro idk why but I loved this Leo. I have a tiny memory, especially with this version but I clearly remember that I thought he was the funniest and the coolest. I mean, he had swords, what was I supposed to do as a 7-year-old. NOT like him??? Anyway, while Raph was the best at insult comedy, I think Leo had the best puns and punchlines. I really like how nonchalant this Leo is compared to his iterations, going along with really silly ideas and having fun along the way. But because of this, his leadership is a little forced at times, he seems like such a chill and fun dude that when he gets serious, I have to squint and ask ‘are you Leo? Or were you just putting on act a moment ago?’ Or my perception is entirely warped over time. Either way, good turtle boy, could have used some work tho. 5.7/10

Here comes grumpy lad wooo this is all read very monotone btw Fearless Leader (2003)

What. What the fuck happened. I was actually so confused when Leo turned really angry and serious and almost manic. I thought that episode when he popped into Casey’s window and was like ‘Hey bitch lets go beat the shit out of some lowlifes’ I was WOAH THERE BUDDY BACK UP BACK UP BACK TF UP. It was so sudden to me and when it was finally explained, it made some sense??? Like yeah, character development is great an’ all but this ain’t it chief. I can’t imagine what it was like having to wait for these episodes to release one at a time. Bc I watched every episode back to back on Youtube and I was genuinely bamboozled. But when you have an experience like that where guilt is weighing down on you from a situation you couldn’t control, it would’ve been HELLA HELPFUL to have at least a flashback, like a line saying ‘I was so useless!’ at BARE MINIMUM. Like right after Shredder is booted off to Planet Zula, Donnie would notice that Leo didn’t seem all that happy and would ask why and Leo would get upset and yell at Donnie saying that ‘You wouldn’t understand’, ‘You don’t know how I felt, how I feel because of that’, etc. Like you don’t even have to say he felt guilty or helpless, just give us something to grab onto. We’re merely six-year-olds who thought they could climb the YMCA rock wall in easy mode but instead the script riders harnessed us up on the hard one and wouldn’t let us come down until we rang the little bell at the top. I think that is the only problem I had with his Leo. The sudden change of calm and decisive to angry and irrational was so jarring that it felt unnatural without that crucial context. If you want a surprise reveal, at least hint at the reveal (like just about every Disney movie with their ‘twist’ villains) not wait until the very last moment. I think this might be my least favorite Leo and I think the season where he stood out the most and seemed the strongest was Fast Forward (Which was GOOD FIGHT ME), especially in scenes with Dark Leo, his clone. He sees so much of himself in Dark Leo but he also sees something he had once grasped (AKA the poorly written character arc, I CANNOT stress how bad I thought it was). Although, I honestly think he’s a really good character and he’s a pretty neat guy. However, this score is entirely held up by Fast Forward and his connection with Usagi, sword bros to the end of time. 3/10 (2 for FF and 1 for Usagi)

And now a Leo that makes me genuinely feel UWU Leo (2012)

I cannot stress how much I like this guy! Like his design is so appealing, his dedication, his obsession with Space Heroes, like I FUCKING LOVE IT. And everyone knows, that shit with Karai, at first when they didn’t realize they were related, I can let slide but kajsdflksadf what even like why did the writers feel the need to add in more ‘love interest’ implications like yuck yuck yuck. The only two interactions with Leo and Karai that I really like are when Leo defeats her using the healing hands technique and when Leo has a goth/emo/punk/idk I’m new here phase and they team up and EXPLOSIONS. He was introduced to us as being incredibly naive and his idea of leadership is from some old cartoon that’s basically star trek but ethically questionable. After his fights in season 1, to the finale with the technodrome, you can see his growth. He’s able to formulate plans and make life or death decisions. BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE. When Leo got hurt, I felt like the oof sound effect mixed with some tears I normally shed at some Shojo manga bs. While the episodes following were super weird, it was a nice way to help Leo recover, not only physically but spiritually (Although I don’t remember the spirit arc at all except the epic Raph vs Fishface fight, so we’re skipping that). When Master Splinter really died, you could tell there was a huge impact on Leo, but he had to remain stoic and lead the family now. A lot of heartbreaking moments in this series came from Leo and I’m glad they took at least some thought into developing him. Tiny head Leo will haunt my nightmares, but the giggly fanboy will warm my heart constantly. 6/10

I only have one word for this Leo (Heroes in a Half Shell: Blast to the Past)

This is a super crazy bad idea accent on the super crazy bad part have I mentioned it’s also a really terrible idea/10

Okay, spoiler alert, didn’t really think this Leo was that grand Leo (2014/2016)

Painfully average. He didn’t stand out that much, Raph was part of the focus and had that touching scene at the end, Donnie was ICONIC and Mikey (with his weird-ass eyes) was super lively and funny! Leo? Uh, I don’t remember a single line he said. Because he never really grabbed my attention, I don’t have too much to say on this version. The Raph and Leo fight felt forced and the whole ‘keep this stuff that could turn us human a secret’ was pretty pointless and was added just to cause drama, I don’t even remember what that Splinter and Leo conversation was about. Design-wise, really neat! You can see some more traditional Japanese clothing/style mixed with modern (I’d feel a lot better about this assumption if some could tell exactly what the heck he’s wearing, but I get traditional Japan warrior vibes from it) in his look which was super neat! Other than that, if you like him, please tell me why because I don’t get. He was just kinda eh. 5/10

AHHH MY BOY YASSS WHOOO!! Neon Leon (2018)

Okay, I loved Ben Schwarts already from Parks and Rec but like him being Sonic AND Leo, like DUDE. He’s super funny by himself but teamed up with this shows writing and animation, it makes it hilarious. I literally love this Leo so much, maybe because we’re alike but honestly, he’s amazing. I love his design with the red and yellow crescents accenting his skin and livening up his color pallet. He has a very healthy and natural dynamic with his brothers, he’s the first to know what’s wrong and tries his best to make up for his actions. This is really prominent in the most recent episodes, along with the episode portal jacked. In both, Leo is separated from his brothers. Portal Jacked is in a more literal sense, while Air Turtle handles in more of an emotional sense. While both are brief, Leo sees his error and tries his best to make it up to them. I love his dynamic so much and it’s so nice to see something like this compared to the unnecessary drama and tension between the brothers in the previous series. It’s refreshing and this is something a younger audience needs to see; instead of fighting, it’s better to work together and improve yourself along the way. Improvement is a big theme for Leo here. He’s a goofball, makes jokes at every opportunity and isn’t quite skilled at fighting or using his weapon. But he grows over time, he learns to manage his power and he’s working on mastering it. He’s trying to put aside his narcissism more and focuses on his family. I think the approach they took with him rising to leader rather than slapping it on his forehead was the goddamn best decision they could make. He’s making plans, finding loopholes, helping out and getting out of his comfort zone. I cannot stress how well this show has handled Leo, along with the other characters. I can’t wait to see more episodes about his growth and I am awarding him with one of the greatest honors I could give... 10/10

Storytime: I drew a super cute 2012 Leo, you should look at him. Shameless self-promo, but you should follow me on my main blog bc I’m nice and I draw pretty pictures. Also. I have a little 2012 Leo Happy Meal toy??? I think??? guarding my window and he’s been there for YEARS. I need to bring him in and refresh his paint job.

Wow! I didn’t expect this many requests for Leo, so the blog will be momentarily spammed with the requests, but it shouldn’t be too much! Up next should be the last turtle (Mikey) and then we can get to some REALLY great requests I’m eager to answer. As usual, please comment and reblog! I’d love to hear your opinion!

#Tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo #1987 leo #2003 leo #2012 leo #2014 leo #2016 leo #rottmnt leo #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #asks #I forgot how my tagging system worked

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a-tamed-dragon · 4 years

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Within These Walls: Chapter 4

Chapter 4 of Tokka indulgance, wow, is this what consistency feels like? Oh boy. This chapter is a follow up to the third chapter and is not as... focusses more on being a bit silly and slightly spicy instead of sweet and telling.

Why? *shrugs*

-Prue

Setting: Still in the South Pole. Later that same night.

Toph had experienced the cold of the South Pole before, a few years ago actually, but she didn’t remember it being THIS cold.

The liquid fire she kept taking swigs from the skin she took from Sokka made her fingers tingle and did a decent job of warming her.

She wasn’t drunk by any means, being drunk would make her more dizzy and nauseous from the blurring of her sight. However, there was a pleasant sensation that she could tell was the alcohol doing its work. Regardless of the inner warmth, a frigid Southern cold burst its way through the hut when Sokka entered.

He had taken a walk around the perimeter of the newly developed South Pole with an old friend as the tribe wound down for the night. She was invited to go with him but she declined, content with staying where the warmth was. Sokka reluctantly left her, mostly because he did not want her to feel as though he was leaving her behind while he was home.

“Just go have fun with your friend, I'll survive until you come back,” Toph said, saluting him with the skin as one would before drinking with a friend. He chuckled and left the hut mumbling an “oh boy.”

“Hello there,” Sokka greeted as he kicked off his boots then went to his tunic, pulling it with some difficulty off over his head.

Toph lowered the pouch from her lips as she took another swig “Have fun?”

Sokka hung up the tunic as he spoke in his regular, ginger tone. “ I did.”

He stopped and stood adjacent to her, hands resting on his hips as he took in the sight of a slightly tipsy Top wrapped in the blankets meant for her and Sokka’s pallet. He folding his arms, the corner of his mouth turning upwards.

“You seem like you’re having a good time on your own.”

Toph reclines back on the pillows, nodding her head slowly “The very best.”

“Mhm.” Sokka hummed in agreement as he moved around past her, pulling his pallet next to hers to make one large, makeshift bed.

He noticed the pillows were behind her back as well and swiped the extra two from a shelf against the far wall.

Plopping them next to Toph, he swiped the drinking pouch from her just as she raised it to her lips once more.

“Heyyyy,” she complained, making a face as Sokka still watched her as he stood, taking a long drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and knelt down to the pelts, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he stretched out next to her.

Toph reached out, indicating that she wanted Sokka to hand back the pouch. He put up a finger and took yet another long swig. She turned slightly toward him, disgruntled.

“Are you done?” She asked as he finally lowered the pouch, handing it back to her. She shook the pouch as she protested. “ Jeez, did you have to drink half-“

Sokka quickly rolled to his side, cupping her jaw and both turning her face towards him while opening her mouth. She thought he was kissing her until she felt alcohol fill her mouth. She let it slip down her throat as Sokka deposited the rest of what he had swigged from the pouch.

Tophs eye grew wide as she pushed Sokka away. He lent back on his elbow, watching her cough and laugh simultaneously.

Sokka ran his fingers through his hair and let it down from its wolf tail, a grin on his face as he watched Toph.

“Yes, I was done.”

Toph shot him a look and flicked his forehead hard. Chuckling maniacally as Sokka fell back dramatically, yelping in surprise.

He laid his head down on the pillows underneath him with a sigh, keeping his hand over his eyes. Toph saw an opportunity, taking yet another swig from the pouch but swallowing it.

She leaned down over him, kissing him hard and with unmistakable intent. Sokka follows her lips as she withdrew, humming into her mouth as she did so.

“I’m not done.” Leaving him with a peck. Sokka smiled, waiting for her again. She raised the pouch to her lips again but this time not swallowing the burning liquid.

He was anticipating her retaliation, meeting her with parted lips. Sokka welcomed the liquid fire, swallowing it readily until there was none left. He savored the bitter taste, sucking on her plump bottom lip before releasing it with a bite.

Sokka almost growled into her as he raised himself upon his arm, still cradling Toph’s head, fingers entwining themselves through her long thick hair. He was careful to not tug too hard, checking his strength that could have easily been too much for her.

Toph’s head spun from the contents of the pouch, having drank a suitable amount. She hesitated at his fast movement, taking a moment to mentally catch up. Sokka sensed her hesitation and pulled away far enough to look at her pale face. The rosiness of her cheeks put a beautiful life to her paled eyes that he would only otherwise see when she was training.

“Are you alright? Do you want to just sleep? How much have you had to drink?” Concern painted his near whispering voice.

“Too fast, I’m at the delightful dizzy phase,” Sokka squinted as he hyper-focused. He could detect the slight sway of her body, she was slightly off her center of gravity nor could she find it. She was absolutely tipsy.

“I can see that.” He was careful to unwind his fingers from her hair and instead laid them to simply cradle her but he nap of her neck, giving her some sense of stability.

The fire that was ignited in him moments away dwindled down as he pushed those thoughts away in light of his partners.. er… his… his… bedfellow’s state.

“Let’s get ready for bed, then. I need you up and ready for tomorrow morning, we have some meetings to attend with my dad.”

Cheif Hakoda had arrived earlier that day, it had been a while since Sokka had seen him and they spent a good part of dinner talking amongst themselves, catching up.

Toph formed a protest as Sokka slipped out from their combined pallet and blew out candles around the hut.

When he returned her pulled the blankets off of Toph’s shoulders, and laid them over her as she settles down onto the pillows that were both hers and hijacked from Sokka.

As he too settled down beside her, on his side to face her, he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger as he tended to mindlessly do when they were in private together.

His eyes adjusted to the dark and he gazed at her profile, the slope of her forehead, flowing down the bridge of her nose as it rounded off at the tip. A cute nose. Although, her face was now a combination of cute and beautiful as it matured, the babyface melting away day by day.

His bedroom-blue eyes watched as Toph’s jaw flexed, opening and closing, her lips pursing slightly as she searched for words.

Her brows slightly crinkled closer together in thought, not that the thought was difficult but properly nuanced words were difficult to find.

He waited, leaning up onto an elbow again and slightly towards her face, still twirling her hair.

“I wasn’t done.” She said, matter- of- factly. Getting her words out before turning her chin towards him.

Sokka’s eyebrow quirked upwards, intrigued by them.

“oh?” He scanned her face, amusement painted his own, however, he did not push. “I think you should get some sleep and we can check that in the morning when this burns off. What do you think?”

The index finger that has her hair twirled around it in a ringlet released the strands and moved to glide up and down the length of her nose to between her eyebrows.

“mm….. I’d prefer to have you now AND in the morning. How’s that sound?” She had a sarcastic tone, throwing his pleasantry back at him, light-heartedly.

He took a deep breath, knowing this would have to wait until the morning.

Sokka kissed her lips so delicately it was as though he were afraid of hurting her with the slightest over the exercise of pressure; as though she were delicate in his hands.

“The morning it is.” He brushed his lips against hers, moving his head from side to side slowly.

He felt her pout, but she relented.

“You’re no fun.” She grumbled like a spoiled child being told ‘no’.

“I am plenty fun, I just want you to be clear-headed while I’m between your legs is all. A curtesy, really.”

He heard Toph take a sharp, shallow breathe. She liked that idea and she knew the practicality of Sokka not wanting to touch her while she was tipsy on his drink.

“Morning.” She confirmed.

Sokka pulled her into him, baring his arm across her waist and leaning his cheek against the crown of her hair.

He bent the arm under him against the pillows to rest on his elbow. He realized then that Toph was not wearing her bindings under her sleep clothes as the thumb of his hand around her waist brushed the underside of her breast.

Even in the cold, she was calculating.

-----

Part 5

#tokka #tophbeifong #sokka #sokkaxtoph #tophxsokka #atlafic #tokkafic #atameddragon #withinthesewalls!tokka

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alexbfmp · 3 years

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Week 1 - Start of Project

My chosen 10 words are:

Surface - The surface is the outside of anything. The earth, a basketball, and even your body have a surface. A surface is the top layer of something. - This can be expanded more than just seeing the outside of something, you can dive deep with in the surface of something or someone where there can often be more meanings for things or discover elements that make something whole.

Showing the surface and an insight beneath - powerful imagery impact

Insight into the anatomy of the surface -

Microscopic view of the ice surface - immersive and detailed look into what creates the surface/ exterior of something that can result in more beauty shining from beneath

Environment - The circumstances, objects, or conditions by which a person or more is surrounded by - country, buildings, nature, situations etc but also can mean the complex of physical, chemical, and biotic factors (such as climate, soil, and living things) that act upon an organism or an ecological community and ultimately determine its form and survival.

Palettes and Patterns - The range of colours used by a particular artist or in a particular picture that uses a repeated decorative design - some artists stick to one set of colours as their ‘trademark colours’ often playing around with the similar patterns but re arranging them with the use of layering, geometry and colour order. In other occasions patterns/ colour palettes would be often repeated and used with in a certain time period - e.g. the 80′s with lots of bold, colourful, crazy and detailed patterns- mainly found on clothing

Identity - Identity is who you are, the way you think about yourself, the way you are viewed by the world and the characteristics that define you. An example is a person's name or the traditional characteristics of an American. It can showcase the way people want to live their life as an individual, making it their own through self expression. It can also relate to people loosing themselves and detreating

Revolution - a sudden. complete or fundamental change in political organization - government or ruler and the substitution of another by the governed. It can also mean the activity or movement designed to effect fundamental changes in or about situations.

Interior/ Exterior - Interior commonly refers to the inside of something. E.G. An auditorium inside a Theatre or place that lies far inland from a coast or border is said to lie in the ‘interior’ of a country. On the other hand, Exterior is part or the surface of an outside appearance. Another example is representation (as on stage or film) of an outdoor scene - a scene filmed outdoors. It hand tie in with the word ‘Surface’ as it can be referred to the exterior of a person - their appearance

Urban - It most commonly is in relation to a city. In that sense, the term may refer to as an urban area, geographical area distinct from rural areas. urban culture, the culture of towns and cities.

Renaissance - The Renaissance was an Art period in European history marking the transition from the Middle Ages to modernity and covering the 15th and 16th centuries through paintings, sculptures/ statues as well as style of clothing.

Dystopia - It is an imagined state or society in which there is great suffering or injustice, typically one that is totalitarian or post-apocalyptic. It can branch of into many different situations - Environmental destruction, Nuclear Disaster, Government control, Religious Control, Technological Control, Survival, Loss of Individualism.

Repetition - Repetition is the simple repeating of a word, within a short space of words, with no particular placement of the words to secure emphasis. It can also be used with in art and patterns e.g. wallpaper repeat designs to create interesting and visually exiting arrangements. Repetition is also used in everyday life, people get advice to follow repeatedly to stay strong and keep going everyday. It also can come into terms with an activity of some sort that a person may do over and over again each day - watch tv, eat food, perform in a show etc

I narrowed my first initial 10 words down to the 5 that I am most keen to use as my theme for my project. I feel with these words, I would be able to come up with some interesting ideas and exiting outcomes.

Surface

Palettes and Patterns

Identity

Interior/ Exterior

Environment

Week 1 Evaluation

Media, skills, processes and techniques - Evaluative section on – Media, skills, processes and techniques that were used/explored – what was learnt – how wide ranging research informed this - and how these met the purpose of the proposal? First section – your planning, themes, specialism and how you have been working.

During this week I used the internet and my blog to research and present the first lot of work for my project. This gave me a look into different topics and words to look into to see what sparked my interests and could potentially be one of the words I pick for my theme/ concept for this project.

Purpose/ theme/concept – Evaluative section on the FMP development – the thought processes – the struggle to solve a problem the journey of change and learning – why decisions were made and for what purpose - what is the point/function of the work?. How the FMP could be further developed in ambitious and innovative ways?

The main goal this week in regards to FMP development was to explore the different avenues that I could take my project down and what I personally am starting to feel that could then lead me onto ideas etc.

One of the main themes that appealed to me the most is the ‘Patterns and Palettes’. I feel like this could be a really interesting route for me to go down and reminds me of the work im familiar working with - the word pattern reminds me of the sewing patterns and fabric designs i work with - on the other hand, the palette portion reminded me of the different use of colour combinations and look to a garment/ costume whether that be as a whole or a specific detailed section. This then led me on to having the idea of creating some form of garment that I could incorporate the patterns throughout the surface of the outcome.

What are you planning for next week? – How and what are you doing?

I am really keen on the whole garment design idea with the incorporation of the patterns and palettes so i am going to create a couple of rough designs experimenting with colour schemes and patterns. I will also include visual inspiration collages from ideas that inspire me to create my outcome as well as looking into colour palettes and what colour combinations compliment each other.

Further Research - Looking into style of garments

To get a further insight into the different style of garments created, I decided to look at some of the best garments/ dresses from the Oscars awards ceremony. This is one of the biggest events to happen every year and always a place to see fresh, new and visually exiting outfits.

The first look that appealed to my taste was from 1982 where Debbie Allen was seen in a white, fully embellished slit fit dress. Although it a moderately simple dress, the fully embellished work on the piece as a whole takes it to another level of ‘Glam’ which is what I feel I am going into the direction for my creation.

Another garment that was embellished and very fitting with one of my chosen themes ‘Patterns and Pallets’ is this gorgeous embellished pattern dress worn by Jessica Chastain in 2013. Its very clear to see that the garment has many different pattern panels which creates such a stunning yet striking look as a whole but not overwhelming. I feel like this is my inspiration to move forward for my project and what i envision something similar to be as my final outcome.

One of the more plain, simple but effective looks that I saw was a black lace and tulle fit and flare garment worn by Jenifer Lawrence in 2016. There is something really beautiful about the simplicity of the dress but also still feel very detailed with the design through the lace and pleats of tulle. I love the way the subtle lace top portion of the bodice gradually blends into the more elaborate bottom half of the dress. Again, this style is something id love to incorporate and maybe embellish the top lace part with beads and crystals so it would be coherent with the fully beaded bottom portion of some sort.

Lastly, one of my other favourites was a beautiful and simple shaped garment with 3D flower elements cascading all over the dress which was worn by Kate Blanchett in 2016. The 3D appliques add such a creative and almost artsy/ crafty style to the gorgeous simplicity of the dress creating a beautiful floral image to look at. This could protentional give me inspiration to add other 3D elements besides just the beads and crystals.

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lydiachan22illustrations · 5 years

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New Animal Crossing fanart + Speed Paint with a voiceover included!

Hello guys! How are yous? Finally made a new AC fanart piece! Although I do have a series where I draw AC characters in casual clothes, I’m not too sure if this one is a serious piece for that series, as it’s her regular clothes and the other pieces carry a more simple background/pastel pallet theme. So I think for now it’s just a simple fanart. It’s my first time drawing Katie too, so I hope I did her justice! It was also a cool coincidence that by the time the piece was near finished, she was brought into Pocket Camp for the sakura event eeepp! If anyone wants to add each other so we can share bugs for the event feel free to message me!

I hope you guys enjoy the piece! My YT channel is Lydiachan22 Drawings! (If you like soft and chill voice overs, I hope it is to your liking!)

Reblogs are fine, but please do not reupload, use, edit, etc!

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anneimaginesundertale · 6 years

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Undertale Fairy Tales Project Day 8: Snow White and the Eight Skeletons, Grillby x reader

I meant to post this last night, but I wrote most of it this morning...Grillby, alas, did not manage to feature in the story just yet, although he is mentioned in passing, and he did play a part off-screen. I hope you’re not disappointed, @mavi-mav . He would show up eventually, if I continued this.

The skeletons’ nicknames in this are:

UT Sans = Punny

UT Papyrus = Peppy

US Sans = Happy

US Papyrus = Lazy

UF Sans = Grumpy

UF Papyrus = Bossy

SF Sans = Haughty

SF Papyrus = Worry

I didn’t mention all of them by name, but that should help you figure out who’s talking to whom, at least.

Anyways, here is the story. Enjoy!

—

People always think being royal is easy. Wear fancy clothes, count your money, sing with cute talking animals, throw wild parties, ignore the needs of the people until they rise up against you…Easy, right? Wrong. Of course. You would have given anything to be doing any of those at the moment. Instead, you were running from a madman working for a madwoman, and you were half-convinced that you were going mad yourself.

The trees all looked the same. If you'd been smart, you reflected, you would have brought a knife with you. And some food. And water. Your knees were beginning to feel like jelly. You kept running and wondered if you'd missed the lesson on recruiting cute little forest animals. That was what other royals would do in this situation, wasn't it? Call on their adorable minions to carry them? Where were your adorable minions? It just wasn't—

You tripped over a root and went sprawling onto the forest floor. Your last thought before your head hit a rock was, Oh damn. Now I get to be eaten by cute little woodland creatures who should be my minions. Life is so unfair.

—

You woke, to your surprise, in a bed. It wasn't your own bed. That had been a pallet in the palace kitchens for far too long now. This bed had actual sheets, and a soft blanket, and a quilt on it. It had a pillow too, which felt amazing on your head. Your head, which didn't ache nearly as much as you thought it should. Cautiously, because waking up in a strange bed is never entirely a good thing, you sat up and looked around. There were three other beds in here, with words carved on the headboards. Lazy. Bossy. Worry. Probably not a good sign, you decided. You didn't bother looking at the headboard behind you. It probably said something like, “Stupid”. You didn't need that.

You slid out of the bed. The wooden floor creaked. You winced. Good job. You just let whoever out you to bed know that you're up. Maybe your bed should say “Stupid”. You tried to walk more cautiously. There were three doors all together on one wall.

You opened a door, hoping it would take you out of the room. Instead, you found a closet. A very, very messy closet. There were jars of honey and packets of…bone-shaped biscuits, and a lot of dirty clothing. You didn't look too closely at that. Instead, you closed the closet and tried the other door. This one was also a closet. It was much neater than the other one, but no less disturbing. The shelves held an assortment of carved and painted figures, some of which were very cute. The walls held an assortment of weapons, which were all very pointy. You closed the closet, prayed that the third one actually went somewhere, and opened it. It led to a hallway.

There was another door in the hallway. A handwritten sign on it said, in neat, curled handwriting, Enter if you dare. You didn't dare. There were stairs at the other end of the hall. You went down them.

You found yourself in a sort of living room or parlor. There was a large and ugly green sofa and a variety of chairs. You didn't spend too much time looking around, though, because you could hear voices. A lot of voices. You walked toward them and listened.

“…can’t go up there,” someone was saying. “Grillbs said to leave ‘em until tomorrow.”

“But I heard movement,” another voice said. “They're awake!”

“I heard it too,” said a harsher voice. “Surely now we can send the wretched human on their way. We’ve done our duty. We don't need to get more involved.”

Still another voice piped up. “But Haughty, this is the heir to the throne! I recognized them! It’s our duty to help them in any way we can.”

“They're not the heir to our throne, Happy. They're human.”

“But surely—”

“Shut up!” still another voice hissed. “I hear something!”

Cautiously, you poked your head around the doorframe. The room was a kitchen. It was also full of skeletons. For some reason, you had been expecting dwarves.

#undertale fairy tales project

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james1309 · 3 years

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Stop making sense [narratives and found materials]:

Constructed: To build something or put together different parts to form something whole. Narrative: A story or a description of a series of events, a particular way of explaining or understanding events. Found: Having been discovered by chance or unexpectedly. Sculpture: Installation, assemblage. Photography: Film making, photomontage [collage]. The skip for example is a great place to find bizarre and wonderful objects can be extremely useful for personal projects work. Collage is an amazing tool to apply research in forms of materials and objects, including paper, cloth, photographs. Many artists like Max Ernst and Hannah Hoch back in the early 20th century created unusual scopes of imagery to portray various thought processes and findings. Duchamp’s definition is “An ordinary object can be elevated to the dignity of a work of art by the mere choice of an artist”. In my opinion I fully understand where Duchamp is going with what an object is, and how it can be distorted and made into a possible art piece. But, wouldn't that bring questionable opinions for what art is? A toilet urinal put into a gallery seems oddly peculiar/distasteful as it is used for toilet purposes, although The “Fountain [1917]” by Duchamp is place on an angle making it unusable and no pipes are connected; making me think of it as art rather than its original purpose which is fascinating yet simplistic. Overall, suggests an understanding of believing mostly everything we see in our day to day lives is art in its own, instead of a boring old painting seen in an art gallery [Cornelia Parker]. Boltanski’s [French Jew] vision of artwork is “A good work of art can never be read in one way”, elaborating on the fact that individual people reflect their own personal lives in what they see.

Photographs throughout history depict different emotions and characteristics of what people looked like and how they presented themselves. Alan Dein “Face in the crowd” advocate how people present themselves in society back in the 1930s/40s [black & white] perhaps, as a joyful time for the soldiers return from war or on the flip side shear terror for what the war could be destroy. Memorial/post holocaust work terrible, disaster's, photographic imagery.

Morrison: Dawson City-Frozen time [2016] is quite morbid and distressing to look at many Jewish and unworthy people who have suffered tremendously in snippets of taken in photography that make you think you are extremely lucky to not of been in that difficult time of power and poverty. From reviewing photographs of what happened back in the early 20th century makes you think of what those people in pain and suffering must feel empty and worthless. Trapped like animals in a cage must be physically/mentally challenging for ordinary people who have had their lives taken away. Annie Atkins design work interpretations are authentic and made to look like the original telegrams from the time of no technology. These props ultimately tell the story of how society was and how life functioned. The strong contrasts of colour pallets of graphical designs engage audiences of the time to buy a pack of cigarettes for example which were obviously poplar in societies culture before it was a major fault for cancer. The designs had to be bright and colourful text, as imagery wasn't particularly used for promoting a product, due to the lack of technology providing image information for the public to buy and use.

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skvaderarts · 4 years

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Apocrypha Chapter Eight: Unoccupancy

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Eight: Unoccupancy

Note: Logging onto A03 and seeing so many comments in my inbox brought me such joy. Thank you all so much for reaching out every week and talking about the story with me. It's always the highlight of my week, especially since my job still isn't really open again yet. Having something fun to look forward to every week is great. Truly. Thank you!

(-~-)

It seemed as though the very air held its breath as they approached, a gentle but damp breeze shifting the leaves in the trees that lined the street as a coating of misty rain drenched the outside of the buildings. Trails formed by droplets of water ran down the windows of every building on the block, staining the glass and trickling down onto their attached ledges before finally plummeting towards the pavement below. Decades old yet well maintained gutters helped transfer any water that dared make its way onto the roofs of the homes to its proper place in the city's storm drains. This was the historic district of town and everything from the ornate metal benches that dotted the block, to the vintage street lights and tree planters reflected that. Every row house was slightly different from the next and it was somewhat impressive how well kept the area was, not to mention how quiet it was considering its proximity to downtown.

And that was the matter that brought them to the front steps of the building standing before them. It was a three story Edwardian townhouse clad in dark grey brick with white stone trim around the windows. Due to it's placement on the very end of the block, it was almost twice the size of each of the nearby homes, since it wrapped around the block and faced the corner on both sides. The outside of the spacious home was just as well kept as the rest on the block, aside from the now empty planter boxes on each the windows that had more than likely once housed purple flowers if their remnants were anything to go by. They were small and white, seemingly metal and held by ornate holders made from black iron. Black stone stairs with grey tops and a black metal rail that matched the window boxes tied the building together beautifully. The thick green leaves that snaked around the house in healthy vines draped down over the ornate dark purple front door, lending the house an age that it's condition didn't show. All and all, a stately and sizable dwelling.

V looked up at the imposing but beautiful structure, totally awestruck by it. While every building on this street shared a similar monochrome color pallet, this was the only one with a colored door or matching dark purple dragon scale shingles. There were little things about it that made it stand out in his mind, and he couldn't help but appreciate the aesthetic. To say that it didn't appeal to his darker sensibilities would be a lie. he considered this for a moment before noticing that Magnolia has started to make her way up the flared stone steps, the window wells on either side forming a sort moat to the front entrance that made the stairs seem even more grand. It was like crossing a bridge, and he was somewhat surprised that a house this tall possessed a basement at all. Was there an attic as well?

"Well, this is it, Dear," Magnolia said as she inserted a key into the lock," Sorry for the mess. No one has lived here in a very long time."

As he crossed the threshold and stepped into the house, V did an internal double take at the sight that unfolded before him. They were standing in a foyer with tall arched doorways on either side of them. A rounded spiral stairway curved up to the second story gracefully, belying an abundance of space just out of sight. A balcony looked down from above them, but nothing else could be seen from where he currently stood. The room was large for a townhouse, but not oversized. As they stepped in the room to the left, the two of them were greeted by a large corner bay window on the far side of the room that sat in the middle of where the street corner would be from outside. The fireplace to the left of the bay window seemed as though it had not been used in a considerable time, much like Magnolia had indicated when they'd arrived moments ago. A few pieces of furniture sat in scattered parts of the room covered by cloth tarps in an attempt to keep out the elements. Besides that, he couldn't glean much more about their condition without uncovering them.

Magnolia walked over to the window and pulled open the tall curtains that adorned the walls. The ceiling height in the room had to be close to fifteen feet, and that coupled with the position of the window made for a blinding amount of natural light despite the rainy conditions outside. Medium grey wall paint was paired with a white trim that somehow made the room seem even larger than it already was. V could only guess how large the rest of the residence was. The young summoner was rapidly coming to the conclusion that magnolia might be secretly wealthy.

"I'd offer you a place to sit, by my siblings took all the best furniture when my parents passed away," She gestured to the room around her, somewhat downtrodden as her normally chipper voice took on a slightly somber tint," I want to show you something in the back of the house. Care to follow me this way?

V followed after he with a diligent nod, still taking in his surroundings. Her parents had lived here then? What had they done when they were alive to amass the kind of wealth required to possess such a stately property? The two cut through the kitchen that sat in the back of the house. There were no appliances, but everything else was still intact. At most, the room seemed to just need a good dusting and maybe a new coat of paint due to its apparent age.

When they reached the far side of the kitchen, they entered what had probably been some sort of combination mudroom and laundry room before going through a door that led to the outside of the townhouse. V hadn't considered the possibility of a yard while touring the residence with her. He'd been too preoccupied with the rest of the house. While it wasn't huge, the remnants of what had once been a garden grew up the far wall next to another door. This one, unlike the front door, was black and wan't arched despite sharing a similar design overall.

"That's the garage I parked in when we arrived. We walked around the front," She stated, noticing that his attention had been drawn there," My little sister and I used to spend hours out here as teenagers. She doesn't come around anymore. Too busy with family affairs to bother actually interacting with her family. I hardly recognize the lass anymore."

V couldn't help but notice that she seemed more sad about that little revelation that she did upset. Had that happened a long time ago? Or had she just lost the motivation to be upset about it anymore? He wasn't going to ask her either way. It wasn't his place to bring up something like that. If she wanted him to know more, she'd tell him. That much he knew from personal experience with his own inner thoughts and struggles.

"... I'm sorry to hear about your parents, Magnolia." V said quietly. The last thing he intended to do was be impolite," You grew up here?"

A somber smile crossed her face as she shook her head. "No, we only lived here together for about two years. Maybe even a little less. I inherited the place after they passed away. They were asleep when the lodge they were staying at during a vacation caught fire," She fell silent for a moment, seemingly needing a second to collect herself before continuing," My two younger sisters and I went to stay with an aunt shortly after, so no one has set foot in this place for at least a decade. This entire block had just been built around the time you were born, I suspect. It's a pity, but no one in our family wants to live here. We lack an emotional attachment to the place. Everything that meant something to us we took out a lifetime ago. If I let my youngest sister have her way, she'd probably have it torn down or something just so she didn't have to think about it."

For a moment, V recalled the furniture that had been covered up and left to sit in the main room. While the concept of a family home was something foreign to him, he understood the concept and was more than capable of comprehending how someone might become emotionally attached or detached to a building. Still, it was a strange thing to him to imagine holding contempt towards a house that nothing bad had happened in. He assumed that her reasons were her own and decided to leave it at that for the time being. There were other matters to attend to. "What motivated you to bring me here if you haven't been here in so long?"

Magnolia's eyes brightened slightly as a small smile spread across her face. She looked out across the yard in silent contemplation for a moment before returning her attention to him, folding her arms around herself in an attempt to keep the warmth inside of her peacoat. "... I met your father shortly before they passed away. We were both young and I was focused on my studies, but watching my sisters terrorize him was always such a hoot! In his own way, I think he liked being here. Vergil never said as much, but he kept coming over until we stopped living here. And although they didn't interact with him much since they were rarely here, I think my parents saw him as the son they never had." She paused for a second, thinking of how she wanted to phrase what she said next," I thought that perhaps if this place wasn't meant to stay in my family, that it was only right that it become a part of yours."

V gave her a curious look, not quite comprehending what she was trying to tell him. Had she offered to sell it to Vergil since he'd known her parents? Why had she brought him here to tell him about it other than to show him around? Did she assume that he and Vergil were going to be living together at some point in the future?

"That's very kind, but I don't think I quite follow you." V said almost sheepishly. He suddenly had an irrational fear of upsetting her in her deceased parents home that he hadn't possessed before she'd tried to explain her intentions to him." What are you trying to tell me?"

Magnolia laughed slightly, seeming to pick up on his discomfort. "Sorry V, I'll be a little more straight forward this time. Were you considering moving in the near future? I feel that I may have not been entirely forthcoming as to my motivations," She shifted slightly, seeming to share his trepidations but not for the same reasons," I think that we could both use a fresh start. To know that my parents legacy of philanthropy lived on through gifting this property to you would bring me… release. That is the best way I can put it into words, dear. All I'm asking is that you consider it. It's been paid off for years, so you'd only have to worry about taxes, and they aren't much. Estate tax and all that. A truly broken system, really."

V paled at her words, suddenly feeling the blood rush to his face. Had she really just offered him this place? He was positive at no one had ever tried to give him a gift this expensive or personal in his entire life. It was unheard of and he was struck silent trying to comprehend the proper reaction and response to it. Sensing his distress, Griffon materialized and fluttered around the small outdoor space, coming to a stop on his shoulder. He shook his head, failing the urge to repress his snickering.

"Sorry, but I think you broke his brain a little. If I'm being honest, It's not really that hard to do. Nice to meet cha!" The mouthy bird made himself comfortable as V's brain tried to unlock itself.

"Ah, an avian familiar then," Magnolia said, unfolding her arms and nodding to herself," How lovely! I like your style. Might I pet you, little one? I simply adore your coloration!"

Griffon fluffed himself, ducking his head down and pulling his wings up. He wasn't expecting to be doted over. "Watch the feathers, and your fine," Griffon said, trying to hide is mild embarrassment by tucking his head under his wing," You could learn a thing or two from her, V. You know, show your appreciation a little more from time to time."

V shot his feathered companion an unappreciative look, his brow furrowing. "Perhaps Shadow is hungry. Why don't we check?"

The vibrant blue bird fluttered away with a squawk, landing on a half wall near the garage. Shadow surged forward, scampering after her feathered companion. She intended to capitalize on the open space and privacy that the yard afforded her. Magnolia glanced over at the demonic panther, seemingly impressed. "That's quite a powerful demon to have in your repertoire. They are not normally so obedient. I heard you used to have three different familiars?"

The young summoner nodded, his thoughts now less foggy than they had been. Having a moment to process her generosity had been beneficial to him. "That's correct. I currently have two now, however." He took a moment to think about the proper way to express what he wanted to say before speaking,"... I will have to take some time to think about your offer, Magnolia. I hope I don't seem ungrateful."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't expect you to give me an answer right away. This is a lot to take in, dear. Please don't feel forced to say yes just because I asked. Get back to me when you're ready," She said with a warm smile as she headed over towards the inside door," That being said, I should show you the rest of the house. Nico is probably wondering where we disappeared to right about now. But I'm guessing that you're going to want to see what's left of the library before we leave."

V craned his head to one side as he followed after her, his familiars following after him as he headed inside. "... Did you say there was a library?"

(-~-)

Quarantine has officially ruined my sleeping patterns. One day I wake up at 5 am and the next at 8 pm. Sometimes (like today) I wake up at 10 am and decide I can stand to get a few more minutes of sleep and wake up AT MIDNIGHT. And that is why my uploads are so wishy washy in terms of upload time. Sorry about that. I hope you all enjoyed this little intermission chapter. Next week is the start of the "beach arc" so get ready for that! It's gonna be super fun!

#Apocrypha #V'sApocrypha #Dmc #DMCV #DMC5 #Post DMC5 #Post DMCV #Post Devil May Cry 5 #Post Devil May Cry V #V #Vitale #V DMC #Magnolia #Vergil and Magnolia #Magnolia Ludwick #Vitale Sparda #V Sparda

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pyrewriter · 4 years

Text

Hunted

The people of Paris had become accustomed to seeing a shadow traversing the rooftops that they always assumed it to be Chat Noir scanning the city ,just like Akuma attacks, it was simply part of the city. Only Alya seemed to pay attention to his sporadic wandering but even that was simply to fill the Ladyblog with speculation or an interview when action was sparse. Adrien didn't mind, Marinette and Nino were usually busy during the day like most people living a normal life so he didn't get to talk to them much outside of work and meetings. Besides whenever she did interview him in the square she always tried to paint him in a better light than what many Parisians did which allowed him to try and show he wasn't a monster.

Although he had gone back to working on a regular schedule offset by occasional hero duties or meeting with old classmates he was more than fine with it. Part of that routine schedule was at least one trip to the hospital every week to see Lauren and chat, over the course of a month they had grown close and relaxed in the others presence. Enough so that they even began to tell each other secrets, secrets like why ,after a while, she started wearing a mask like him and why she pulled the covers up to her neck.

"Hey Chat, can I ask you something?" Lauren asked, her voice horse again after having used a feeding tube.

"Of course" he replied.

She took a deep breath "Are you happy with your body I mean, the decisions you've made and the life you have because of it?"

He malled over the question for a moment before answering, "Yeah I'd say I'm happy ,content at the least, kind of a strange question to ask".

"I know but you always cover it, even your face when you're not transformed and it just doesn't fit one of the heroes of Paris and yet you seem so happy. I guess I just want to know why you cover yourself more than anything, I got stuck with this crappy sick body that's falling apart".

Chat stared at the girl and sighed, "Lauren, I want you to show me your face" he told her.

She pulled the covers up leaving only her eyes exposed "What NO, trust me you don't want to see what I've turned into" she said.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours" he replied gazing into her lavender-tanzanite eyes "I'll go first if it makes you feel better". Reaching for his mask he was about to remove it when another hand reached out and stopped him, scars and discolored spots covered the arm it was attached to.

"N-no I'll go first..." she said hesitantly.

Taking off one of his gloves he held her hand in his, it was soft and delicate, her grip was weak but determined "We'll go together" he said with a kind warmth in his eyes. Together they reached for the masks that covered their faces removing them simultaneously to reveal what hid beneath. They looked at each other for a moment before Chat laughed "Is that what you were so scared to show, I think I win our little game". The discoloration was present on her face ,he presumed it was across her body, and there were some other obvious markings but nothing disfiguring.

She joined in his laughter "Yeah I guess you do, Chat".

"Listen Lauren, It doesn't matter what we turn into, it's the person inside it that counts" he told her. From then on during his visits whenever they were alone both of them would remove their masks and raise the arm they tied matching ribbons to, it was their special greeting. Despite her condition worsening she was always the same cheery girl that he had met over a month and half ago now. She had even grown on the previous wielders who ,of their own accord, decided that they wanted to talk with her the next time they met. So as the next week rolled around and with the tavern closed for the night Adrien visited the hospital with Belial on his shoulder shortly after patrol. They performed their signature greeting before de-transforming to chat while Plagg raided the nearby vending machine in the hall above.

In the back of his mind he tried to find a way to introduce the previous wielders who he connected with and were currently standing around the bed waiting like children for candy. But she dropped a bombshell on him first "I know who you are, Juleka told me even if she doesn't know it" she said calmly.

"The scars?".

"The scars" she replied dryly, "I didn't tell her though, but I am sorry for not telling you when you showed me but I didn't know how to react, then again I'm guessing most people wouldn't".

Adrien laughed "Don't be sorry ,I'm not, because there's a secret I wanted to tell you today as well" he leaned in close to whisper "I see dead people" before grabbing her hand and focusing.

Lauren gasped as figures all garbed in cat themed attire with the same black and green color pallet seemingly appeared out of nothing around her. She wasn't scared, they all bore friendly and warm smiles ,even the black lion, she was just surprised by there being so many.

"Hello, Little one"

"It is nice to meet you"

"Greetings"

Her face lit up like she had just seen fireworks for the first time as she waved to each of the new friendly people who filled the room, "Who are all of you?" she asked eagerly.

"Keep your voice down Little one, only you and him can hear us, we are the previous users of the power he currently wields. As long as you remain in contact you can see and hear us just as he can" Soot explained placing a paw on the bed next to Belial who was sleeping soundly. Each of them took turns telling stories of their adventures as wielders while she listened intently until it was time to leave.

Transforming Chat was about to leave when he turned back "I have your word that everything we've revealed stays between us right?" he asked. Lauren swiped a hand across her lips and held one finger in front, her lips were sealed. Returning the gesture, his mask displayed a zipped mouth as he placed a finger over it as well. He was happy that he didn't have to put up any fronts around her during his visits for a change and for another half a month he visited her as regularly as his duties would allow. Her condition had begun to worsen at an accelerated rate, more discoloration appeared and skin flaked off but nothing stopped them from enjoying their time. The previous wielders would tell stories and jokes while Adrien held Lauren’s ever thinning hand, they had come to terms with the fact she was fading quickly.

One day, "It's ok I'm happy to have finally met the hero of Paris and gotten to know him *cough cough* I think the next time we meet I want to ask just one thing of you, is that ok?". Of course he agreed to hear her out, he knew that the day of his final visit was coming so of course he promised to return soon.

"Don't worry about it, by the Cheshire's Smile when I return I will fulfill your request or wish" he stated added with a laugh "-and if I fail someone will burn, THIS I SWEAR".

But as seems the standard with his luck even before taking up the mantle of the Black Cat the world simply will not leave him be. What was supposed to be another routine attack now had Chat running across the city playing cat and mouse with some shifty Akuma and more often than not he was the mouse. They would strike and go for his ring but not before he parried ,their engagements were short, whoever this Akuma was they were a coward but persistent. No matter where he hid it seemed that they would always find him, they had no interest in Ladybug meaning they were exclusively after the ring or had a grudge.

In any case he didn't know why he was the target which made the Hospital, Fe's place, and anywhere within the Square off limits until he could find and beat whoever was after him. He was on the run again and at a huge disadvantage when it came to time with no counter other than cornering himself and chasing them off to buy himself some time to breath. At the moment it appeared that the Akuma fled completely, quickly he crawled into the large garbage bin in the nearby alley and de-transformed.

"Plagg, Claws In"

"There's no way you can keep this up Kid, you gotta call someone" Plagg whispered pleadingly.

Adrien was peaking out ever so slightly to avoid giving even a hint of his presence, "I can't Plagg, contacting anyone in the Cheshire would put too-" suddenly he silenced himself. Stopping his breathing and holding completely still he managed to hide long enough to get a good look at his pursuer, long dark hair that flowed with the clothes she wore. He couldn't make out a face before she twirled, warping her clothes and hair around herself as smoke engulfed her and she faded into shadows. Releasing his breath he connected to the precursors, "Nalma, I need you to repeat what I tell you to Plagg" he thought.

"You need to go" Nalma said speaking in Adrien's stead "find Ladybug, tell her to stay away from shadows, then hide with Fu, take the underground".

"I won't leave you" Plagg demanded still whispering.

"Listen to me, LB doesn't stand a chance if they go after her and I refuse to let them take another member of my Familia from me" she recited.

Plagg shook his head flying in front of his wielder, best friend, and brother "And I refuse to leave a Familia member out to dry" he retorted

Before Adrien could think of a reply the Akuma's eyes suddenly appeared behind the Kwami staring directly into his own, "Found you, Stray" she said maliciously.

Adrien leaped from the bin tackling her, "RUN!" he shouted writhing on the ground in a deadlock with his pursuer trying to buy time.

"HAHAHA You can not pin a shadow, foolish Stray" she cackled before fading again into the shadows below them, he felt her slip through his fingers like water. Looking around he tried to anticipate where she would come from but they were in an alley so she could attack from anywhere which made anticipation nearly impossible. "You sent away the one thing that gives you power didn't you?" her voice was mocking and emanating from the shadows themselves. She sounded confident as if his fate was set "HAHA you think you can defeat me without your power's, you must be more foolish than I thought".

He smiled under his mask "Heh I don't need to beat you" he sprinted for the back of the narrow alley jumping between the walls and scaling the buildings. "I just need to smart you" he called into the alley knowing he was out of her reach for the moment, Adrien wasted no time however and began to traverse the rooftops. For now all he could do was run aimlessly and trust that Plagg and Ladybug could figure something out soon.

Panicked Plagg followed what little instruction he was given flying down into the ground avoiding pockets large enough for a human to fit until he was far far away. Without Adrien he had to be careful not to use his powers or get spotted by anyone but finding Fu or someone he could trust was his best bet. Only popping his head up to orient himself he made his way toward the bakery, he hoped that Marinette had enough sense to return home instead of searching. Luckily as he approached he felt Tikki's aura ,his hope was answered, staying low he only dared to fly up once he was inside and directly under the top floor. Inside the girls were discussing what they should do next to beat and capture an Akuma they could barely see let alone fight.

"I don't know why that thing is so fixated on Chat Noir" Tikki said rubbing her chin "-normally Hawkmoth they are focused on trying to capture both of you".

Marinette agreed "Neither do I Tikki, it's like they have a grudge against him or something but even still this level of focus isn't normal. In any case we need to-".

"Oh thank goodness you're alone, listen we don't have a lot of time"

"AAAHHH!" both Marinette and Tikki screamed in surprise at the sudden intrusion.

Plagg face palmed "Are you two done yet?".

Tikki was the first to regain her composure "Plagg, what are you doing here, why aren't you with-" the ancient magic cut her off, she tired again "Why aren't you with your wielder?".

"Because he's running around like a chicken with his head cut off, hiding in trash, and being an idiot again" he explained.

Now Marinette snapped to attention at the mention of her partner going solo again "Why did you leave him alone, after whatever it was that happened last time I thought-".

Plagg was getting sick of explaining himself and people doubting his chosen wielder, "That Kid has been through more than even previous snakes can imagine" he shouted at them. "The Kid has proven time and time again his resilience so stop doubting him and help think of a way to beat something that can hunt someone across a city and become shadows". They looked at him taken aback by his anger but his assertiveness got them their minds working on how to stop the Akuma. While they brainstormed Adrien did his best to conserve energy as he fled from an enemy that could appear in an instant and vanish just as fast.

Adrien had become skilled at fighting off his assailant to buy him precious seconds then hiding in a bin or booth. The Akuma would return to where they last fought ,searching the immediate area, if she found nothing they would move on to look elsewhere. Doing this he had managed to sneak a minute or two of sleep at a time throughout the day allowing him to stay mobile for more than a week's time but it was never more than a few minutes before he was found. At the same time, having flown to the guardians home, Plagg hid within the Miraculous box while Marinette and Tikki tried to come up with a plan to defeat and capture the Akuma without getting hunted themselves.

Eventually they had come to the conclusion that they couldn't do it alone, on their way to Master Fu's house Marinette spotted Chat across the street. The people on the sidewalk gave him a wide berth. He looked ragged, his clothes were ripped and he had cuts and bruises from the short but numerous skirmishes he had been through. Happy to see him alive she was compelled by her relief to call out his name and wave "Chat, thank goodness!". His head snapped up frantically looking around for the one who called his name, when he saw her waving at him his eyes widened and brow furrowed. Unaware of her surroundings she did not notice the long shadow cast behind her by the nearby tree and the figure rising from it.

A maniacal voice echoed from the shadows cast by buildings and cars "Oh who is this I wonder, a friend of the Stray perhaps" it said cackling like a witch. Breaking into a charge arms raised he crossed the street hurdling over the hood of a car before throwing himself like a javelin toward Marinette. She was frozen with confusion, she couldn't process where the voice was coming from or why her partner was lunging at her like a wild animal, scared she put her hands up to protect herself. Adrein flew past her close enough they brushed each other, "MARI, GET OUT OF HERE DAMMIT" he commanded wrestling with the Akuma trying to keep them away from the shadows.

"Arrogant stray you think-".

Lifting his head he brought it down upon hers with all his might hitting her nose "Shut it you glorified sleep paralysis demon" he shouted. The Akuma slashed at him blindly with her elongated nails missing his neck by a hair's breadth, he tried to counter but the hand she slashed with had reached a shadow and she was gone. His fist slammed into the ground that was beneath where it just was, "Fuck" he spat getting to his feet. Turning to his friend he pointed to her "Run and hide before she comes back and stay away from the shadows" he told her before running off giving her no time to respond.

Still shaken she did as he said and ran avoiding the shade as much as possible while continuing on her way to the Guardian. It wasn't until arriving at the apartment building however that Marinette realized she needed to make sure the Akuma didn't follow her, hiding in a bathroom seemed like the best idea. After a few minutes passed without so much as the sound of a door opening Tikki left to search the building, when she returned it was determined that they were safe. Mainette kicked herself for not thinking and almost leading Hawkmoth straight to the Guardian and the Miraculous box.

"Marinette?" Fu was surprised by her visit "Please come in quickly" he ushered her inside then looked out into the hall before closing the door and locking it.

"Mast Fu, I can't beat this Akuma on my own but I think I have a plan" she said looking defeated.

Stroking his beard he nodded "Yes, Plagg had informed of this Akuma's power"

"Where is he?" she asked.

Fu gestured toward the phonograph "He resides in the box with the others for now, he will be happy to hear from you though I must ask something" he said moving to retrieve the box. Placing the Miraculous box between them he looked at her with raised eyebrows "Why wait so long to seek help, do you doubt the ones you have chosen?" he asked concerned.

Marinette waved her hands "No,no,no that's not it, it's just that this Akuma is dangerous and I wanted to avoid bringing them into this if I could" she looked into the box at the magic jewelry. "I think that's the same reason Chat hasn't called upon the Cheshire" she added picking the Fox necklace and Bee comb from the box. Trixx and Pollen manifested from their respective Miraculous with smiles on their faces and greeted Tikki, as Fu slowly closed the box a third Kwami emerged from the symbol emblazoned on its lid..

"About time you came to get me" Plagg deadpanned "Any idea where the kid is or do I need to find him?" he asked looking to Tikki.

She floated closer to hug her friend and fellow Kwami whom she hadn't seen in almost two weeks now, "Good to see you Plagg" she said smiling. Then flying back to Marinette's shoulder "You'll have to find him but he's not hard to spot in a crowd right now" she told him adding "You were right, he is resilient".

Plagg smiled wide "Thank you Fu, for sheltering me" he looked to the others "Trixx, Pollen, I thank you in advance for your assistance in finishing this Akuma". Giving a thankful bow he phased through the floor and began looking for his wielder. Marinette thanked Master Fu for allowing and trusting her to choose her allies before placing her chosen Miraculous in their own carrying cases before leaving to distribute them.

Meanwhile somewhere in Paris the Akuma had once again lost track of Adrien after yet another failed ambush. Hawkmoth's patience was growing thin, "How many times will you fail me before you catch that lowly feline" he asked frustrated by the repeated failure of his newest villain. He had been patient for the first week or so but now after witnessing his trusted collaborator be outsmarted or overpowered by an unenhanced human his faith in her was waning. "You have all the power you need and yet even without his and no appearances from Ladybug he has managed to evade capture for weeks" he spoke in an annoyed tone.

The Akuma scoffed, "If you think you can do so much better than me then why don't you come out of hiding and catch him yourself".

"Heh, unfortunately that is one of the shortcomings of my Miraculous and so all I can do is grant the power to those I choose to do my bidding" he explained pragmatically. As he spoke the Akuma found her quarry but the shadows in the surrounding area were too small for her to climb through so all she could do was watch him sit on a bench as he took a nap. It wouldn't be long until the sun would move and the shadows grew, allowing her to reveal herself and giving her another chance to pounce on her de-transformed prey. But while she waited something strange occurred, a black thing appeared from out of the ground and began to speak, stirring her prey from it's sleep.

"Kid, oh it's so good to see you again" Plagg said nuzzling his chosen.

"P-Plagg!?" Adrien exclaimed "What are you doing here, I thought you were with the Guardian".

Plagg shook his head "I was but-" he flew closer to whispered "-Lady's got a plan and it's going down soon so be ready" he explained, the news filled Adrien with excitement. "Hahaha I don't need to look at your mask to know you've got a smile on under there, let's get moving before the shadows grow long" he said gesturing that he was ready and waiting.

Holding out his fist Adrien spoke the words he'd been wanting to for a while now "Plagg, Claws Out!".

Previous Chapter(Part 2) Next Chapter Chapter Guide

#Bare Your Teeth #Chapter 19 #miraculous fanfic

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jedifighterpilot2727 · 7 years

Note

Prompt for Lexi Chronicles. Kara gets injured as Supergirl for the first time since getting Lexi. Lena brings Lexi to the DEO to visit Kara. They are worried how Lexi will react.

Alright! as always, let me know what you think!!

Sleepover at the DEO

Read it on AO3- http://archiveofourown.org/works/10189040/chapters/26321958

“Where’s YeYu?”

Lena tries not to be offended at Lexi’s first words upon seeing her. She knows the little girl is a stickler for routines, and Kara is usually the one who picks her up after school. Still, the words sting a little, although that may have something to do with the fact that Kara is lying unconscious in the DEO med bay.

And she has no idea how to explain to their daughter that her mother and favorite super hero was almost killed over National City today.

She doesn’t know how, but she has to, because she refuses to lie to Lexi when Kara’s life is hanging in the balance; it wouldn’t be fair.

Blue eyes look up at her expectantly, and she gets distracted by how much they look like Kara’s. It still amazes her how much Lexi looms like them, even though there’s no biological connection.

Sighing, she crouches down in front of Lexi.

“Supergirl was in a really big fight today.”

Lexi frowns as she processes Lena’s words, tiny forehead crinkling.

Just like Kara.

“Was it a bad guy?”

“A really bad guy.” Lena confirms, reaching for the dangling laces on Lexi’s untied loafer.

“Did Supergirl win?” Lexi holds onto Lena’s shoulders, extending her foot so Lena could tie her shoe.

“She did, but she got hurt, so that’s why I’m here to pick you up instead. YeYu has to spend some time with Aunt Alex and Papa J’onn so they can take care of her.”

Lexi’s frown deepens.

“Is she okay?”

Lena finishes the bow and looks up at Lexi, brushing the stray lock of light brown hair behind her ear.

“You know how Supergirl gets her power from the sun?”

A firm nod.

“Well, she’s taking a long nap under some special sun lights right now, and hopefully when she wakes up, she’ll be all better.”

“Like a tanning bed? Amy says her mom goes to the tanning bed a lot, because she doesn’t like to sunbathe around people.”

Lena bites back a laugh at that.

“It’s a little bit like a tanning bed.”

"Can I see her?” Is Lexi’s next question, and she hesitates, unsure of how to answer. She can’t decide which would be more traumatic for Lexi; seeing her mother injured, or not being allowed to see her at all. She pulls out her phone.

Lena: How do you feel about Lexi coming to see Kara? I’m afraid it’s going to make her more worried if I keep her away.

There’s a short pause and then a response.

Alex: I think it would be ok. I mean Kara looks fine, she’s just wiped out.

Lexi is watching her patiently for an answer, and Lena stands up, taking the little girls hand.

“We can stop by for a few minutes, but that’s all. YeYu needs to rest. And besides, it’s a school night.”

“In bed at eight, lights out by eight-thrity.” Lexi sing songs, and Lena shakes her head with a smile.

It’s a short walk to the DEO, and Lexi fills it with chatter about her school day. Lena is used to getting this information while she prepares dinner, Lexi’s legs swinging over the counter while Lena cooks. It’s a bit different hearing it like this, Lexi weaving in and out of stories about her day with little distractions along the way. The dog that passes by them, the street performer on the corner - everything the least bit interesting pulls Lexi’s attention away.

Eventually, they make it to the doors of the DEO. Lexi has been here plenty of times before, although never under such dire circumstances.

The guard at the door squats down to offer Lexi a high five.

“Hey, Super Junior.” Lexi smacks his hand with a grin, and he raises to give Lena a sharp nod. “Mrs Luthor-Danvers.”

“Agent Jones.”

“Supergirl is still in the med-bay, do you need an escort?”

“No, thank you though.”

Another sharp nod, and he holds the inner door for them, bypassing the line of scanners and metal detectors. Lexi gazes around at the tall ceilings as they walk towards the med-bay, Lena’s heels clicking on the cement floor.

The med-bay has changed quite a bit over the years, much of it through Lena’s own designs. It’s softer now, with mood lighting and a few of Kara’s paintings of Krypton on the walls. She’s spent a lot of time here in the past seven years, too much time if she’s being honest. Experience and attachment has made Kara more careful, but Alex is still a stickler for post-op scans and therapies. Lena appreciates all of it, because if Kara is going to go out and risk her life everyday, at least she has a good team behind her, and Lena has a comfortable place to wait on her to recuperate.

She can see Alex standing over Kara through the half window wall, alternating between studying the tablet in her hands and Kara’s vitals on the wall monitor. The agent perks up when they walk through the door though.

“Lena. Hey kiddo.”

All of Lexi’s spunk that they’ve spent the past two years nurturing out of her disappears the moment she lays eyes on Supergirl lying on the sun bed. Lena begins to think that maybe bringing Lexi here wasn’t such a good idea.

Lexi’s hand tightens in Lena’s, and she leans forward cautiously, peering at the super hero.

“Come on,” Alex bends down and swings Lexi up in her arms. “I know it looks scary, but it’s sort of just like she’s taking a nap.”

Lexi reaches out a hand to trace the arm of Kara’s suit.

“Is she going to wake up?”

Alex’s gaze flits briefly to Lena before responding.

“She will. We just don’t know when. Sometimes it takes a while for her powers to charge back up.”

“Momma said that’s why she’s in the tanning bed.”

Alex laughs.

“Yeah, it’s kind of like a tanning bed. Do you want to read to her? I bet she’d like that.”

Lexi nods, and Alex waits until she’s dug a book out of her backpack and gotten settled in the chair by Kara’s bed before walking over to Lena.

“How’s she doing?” Lena keeps her voice quiet so that Lexi can’t hear.

“She’s stable. It’s just a waiting game now. You know the drill.”

“Does it ever get any easier?”

Alex chuckles and bumps her shoulder.

“You know it doesn’t. How long are you staying? You know Kara does better when you’re around.”

“I don’t know, I need to get Lexi home.”

“Lena.”

“I want to stay, I just don’t know if it’s good for Lexi to spend the night in a government facility while one of her mom’s is unconscious.”

“Said mom is a super hero, I don’t really think this is a normal situation.”

“The parenting books really don’t go over the super hero parent situation, no.” Lena remarks dryly.

“Make it a sleepover.”

“What?”

“We can make a pallet on the floor, Winn can rig up the projector to play a movie … I think it will be good for both of them. Kara gets to be around her family and Lexi doesn’t have to spend the night worried about her mom.”

“It’s a school night.” Is Lena’s only argument, and Alex quickly shoots it down.

“This happens what? Once every six months or so? It won’t kill her to miss a day of school. I’ll even write her a doctor’s note.”

Lena has no fight to put up to that, and she loses the battle with a sigh.

“Can you at least have someone stop by the apartment and feed the dogs, maybe pick up a few things?”

“Make me a list.” Alex responds, and Lena can’t help but think how smug her sister-in-law looks when she wins.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lena isn’t sure what she expected a sleepover at the DEO to feel like.

Sure, she’s spent plenty of nights here over the years, but never with snacks and Zootopia playing on one of the walls. She keeps one eye on the movie and one eye on Kara’s vitals, knowing Alex is doing the same. Dinner was potsitckers and chicken on a stick - Lexi insisting that they have Kara’s favorite meal since she’s sick.

Alex and Maggie have joined them for the sleepover on the med-bay floor, and J’onn stopped by ealierto sneak Lexi a Choco taco from his personal stash hidden in his office freezer.

Lena is watching Lexi watch the movie, little arms wrapped around her giant teddy bear, when she feels a hand in her hair.

“Hey.”

Lena barely hears Kara over the movie, but Lexi’s head snaps around.

“YeYu! You’re awake!”

Alex pauses the movie and jumps up, eyes running over the monitors.

“How do you feel?”

“No powers, but I’m okay. What are you guys doing here?” Kara’s voice is raspy as she sits up, shifting her hand to grip Lena’s.

“We’re having a sleepover!” Lexi volunteers. “Come watch the movie with us!”

Kara looks to Alex for permission, and the older Danvers nods.

“I think you’re out of the woods, but I’d like to keep an eye on you over night.“

“Here, I got them to pick you up some clothes.” Lena offers, and picks up one of the bags from the corner of the room before following Kara out the door.

The second they make it to the DEO locker room, she practically leaps at Kara - sending them stumbling back into one of the rows of lockers.

“Hey, hey. I’m okay.” Kara whispers soothingly, hands rubbing up and down Lena’s back.

“I hate it when you blow out your powers. I hate seeing you lying helpless like that.” She mumbles into Kara’s shoulder, letting out the tears that she’s been holding back all day.

“I know, I know. I overestimated myself a little.” Kara holds her until she stops shaking, and its a few long minutes before Lena pulls back to frame her cheeks.

“Promise you feel okay now?”

“I’m starving? But I’m okay.”

“There are leftover potstickers, Lexi insisted we order your favorite.”

“Remind me to thank her for that one.”

“She was worried about you.”

Lena doesn’t mean for it to sound chastising, but Kara winces nonetheless.

“I can feel you guys, you know. There with me, while I’m asleep. It sounds cheesy, but it makes me want to wake up.”

She clutches at Kara again, not wanting to think about what would happen if Kara didn’t wake up. She always feels so greedy in these moments, because Kara is the one who’s hurt but she’s the one who’s taking comfort. Soft kisses press against her hair, and she takes her time breathing in Kara’s scent until she’s interrupted by a familiar growling.

“Sorry.” Kara says sheepishly.

“You said you were hungry.” Lena laughs, pulling to back to give Kara a sound kiss before passing her the sweatpants and t-shirt that Maggie had picked up on her stop by their apartment. “Hurry up and change, I’ll go heat up the leftovers.”

- - - - Later that night, she looks over to see the light from the credits flickering on Kara and Lexi’s faces. Lexi replaced the teddy bear with Kara, and the super hero has her arm tucked tightly around Lexi. Their faces are slack in sleep, and Lena finally feels at peace for the first time since she saw Supergirl fighting on the news.

She was right earlier when she told Alex that there are no books about parenting with a super hero.

But she thinks they make it work.

#supergirl #supercorp #Lexington Luthor-Danvers #the lexington chronicles #fanfiction #kara danvers #lena luthor

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