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pale-silver-comb · 4 years

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So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals.

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong.

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day.

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.)

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon.

#leverage #leverage ot3 #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #nate ford #talk leverage to me

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dream-a-little-bigger-darling000 · 3 years

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You'll Fit So Nicely You'll Keep Me Intact

Author's Note: Hello Hello! Not my GIF, please don't think it is, but it is my fic! I asked a few days ago if I should do Bane or touch-starved Tommy, and it was pretty clear I should do my sweet summer child Tommy boy. I just really think this big tough fighter needs to take a break and be held every once in awhile. And you can't tell me this man wouldn't have the sweetest moans. Fight me on it you can't. Please Please PLEASE reblog, like, or comment on this if you liked it. I live my day to day life craving validation.

If you absolutely hated it, also let me know! I admit I'm not the best at writing, and I'm willing to learn so I can feed my Tommy Conlon addiction. Ok, that's all, be fed!

2400+ words?! C'mon, that's gotta be enough to make you proud.

The whole fiasco was genuinely an accident.

The two of you, in his small cramped apartment, helping each other make dinner, because you couldn't remember whose turn it was, walking around each other like you had been doing it for years, because you had been.

You had been by Tommy for as long as you can remember, through those years where puberty slammed in the door and decked you directly in the throat (and other places), through the time where his family had slowly fallen apart, and into the years where he had joined the US Marine Corps.

Those years had been hell. At least when he moved away you were still able to text him annoying day-to-day updates and talk in the quiet nights when no one was awake to hear you admit how much you missed each other. But when he joined the Marines, you heard even less from your Tommy, and the ache you felt for him only grew.

When he came back, he had came back for good, immediately seeking you out with the promise of your old relationship back. And things went back to normal, slotted into place perfectly.

Except the insane amount of pining that you went through every waking hour you saw his stupidly attractive face.

But you weren't going to think about that. There was spaghetti to be made.

"Those are done." Tommy nodded his head to the noodles as he made the salad. You sneered to yourself, still pissed that he got the easy part.

"No, they're not, look, that one's still hard-"

"That's what she said."

"It's still undercooked you jerk. Can you please let me cook in peace? You're over there, doing the bare minimum, you ass."

"Hey, if this isn't tossed right, the whole thing is ruined. And those noodles are definitely done. We can get them in the sauce before the garlic bread is done so it'll cool down a bit. Look." All the sudden Tommy was crowded up behind you. Your breath did something funny. Probably the steam from the boiling water. Because, you know, it's so hard to breathe around.

Tommy took the spoon you were using to stir and managed to scoop up a single noodle. He then carefully picked it up and threw it on the cabinet. It stuck, but looked like it would fall via a strong sneeze.

"See? Done." You looked behind you to stare up at the infuriating man. He smiled and tilted his head. You had the sudden urge to hit him. With your mouth. Damn it.

He turned around, not giving you a chance to argue with him. That was his first mistake. As a MMA fighter, the idiot should know never to turn your back on the enemy.

You scooped up another noodle with your spoon. You waited until he was truly busy with cutting the tomatoes up for the salad.

You aimed for his head. It wrapped around the back of his neck with a soft splat. He startled for a moment, and then set the knife down and stared forward, still not turning around to look at you.

"You know what, now it's done. Now it's stickin'." You were struggling to hold it together, desperately trying not to laugh as you turned off the stovetop and set the pan aside.

You felt strong arms envelop you from behind, and you let out a loud laugh as you felt your feet leave the floor. Tommy, spinning you around before setting you on the counter. You've really put yourself it a bad position.

Well, if you're being honest, probably the best damn position you've ever been in.

Except that the bastard started tickling you. More laughter spilled out of you, uncontrollable at this point.

"Tommy!" You were out of breath from the constant attack. What happened to never turn your back on the enemy? "Tommy, what are we in-" More laughter as his joined yours. You two were so close you could feel his shoulder dip every time he rumbled a laugh. "what are we in 6th grade now- Tommy!"

You could feel his laughter huff by your ear, and you knew you had to resort to dirty tactics. If he wanted to play by middle school standards, then you had no choice but to stoop down to his level.

Tommy was very distracted trying to murder you by laughter alone, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. He never even realized your hands were so close to his head. He was in the middle of another fit of giggles when he felt your nimble hands glide through his hair. He had half a second to understand what you were planning, and he was just about to pull away, to get as far from you as possible before-

You gave a solid pull to his hair. You felt satisfaction shoot through your body as his laugh choked off, his body going rigid underneath your fingers. His breath stuttered and his hands instantly fell from your sides to grasp the edge of the counter.

You didn't quite understand what was going on at first, the only thing on your mind being that you'd won the battle. You couldn't help the smug smile from sliding across your expression, or the snarky little giggle that bubbled it's way out.

"What's wrong, Tommy? Did someone school you at your own game, hmm? Maybe next time you'll think before you-"

"Could you please let go?" Tommy sound winded, like he'd just fought a few rounds with someone much bigger than him. It made you pause, and then frown.

Your fingers loosened from his hair, but you didn't lower your arm just yet. You couldn't fathom why Tommy was acting this way, when he instigated the rough-housing. And you knew for damn sure you hadn't hurt him. You had seen the idiot stub his toe on his coffee table before, and the only reaction out of the fighter was a pause, a look up to the ceiling, and one long, drawn out sigh.

So even though he sounded like he was trying to fight for his life, you know it absolutely wasn't because you had hurt him in anyway. Tommy could break you five times over.

You looked down at his hands. Not only was he grasping the edge of the counter top, but his knuckles were white, like he was anchoring himself. You glanced to his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips pressed tightly together, and his eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration. Was he- was that a blush? His body was still pulled tight.

Experimentally, you lightly scraped your nails along his scalp.

If Tommy were to ever hear you call the sound that came from him a whimper, he'd probably swiftly and effectively dispose of your body. But it was a fucking whimper.

His eyes snapped open wide and met yours. You saw his utter mortification. You would say you felt guilty, but having your long time crush whimper while slotted between your thighs as you sat a top a kitchen counter really did things for you.

You mentally reprimanded yourself for letting your mind fall into the gutter as your friend so obviously had a small break down.

Before you could get a word out, to try talk him down from whatever thoughts were swirling in that pretty head of his, Tommy was out of kitchen. Ah, so he's chosen drama today? Coming from a man who would rather fight his own brother than talk, you can't really find it in yourself to be surprised.

"Tom." You dropped down from the counter, heading toward the living room, which was the only way he could've gone. As you rounded the corner, you saw him pacing the length of the room, his hands interlaced behind his head, elbows out, eyes wild.

"Tommy." You smoothed out your voice, pictured yourself trying to calm down a particularly flighty horse. You know, if the horse were the love of your life and you were desperately trying to make things less weird between you two before the already delicate friendship collapsed.

At your gentle prod he stopped. He let his hands fall down to his sides. He huffed once. Crossed his arms, made a face, and then dropped them. His fists curled up into balls and he closed his eyes. He opened one and looked toward you.

"You didn't hear that."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your own arms to your chest.

He pointed to the kitchen. "That didn't happen."

Because you love your best friend very much, you didn't roll your eyes.

"Tommy. Calm down. Take a deep breath." He did not take a deep breath. You did for him. Then another one for you. You moved toward the couch, and the way he suddenly looked like he was about to sprint out the door didn't escape you. You held your hands up placatingly. Easy, boy.

You sat down, leaving enough room for him to sit beside you. He looked at you wearily. You gave him a pointed look, one that said this is something to be discussed, and there's no way you're getting out of it, and gently patted the space for him.

He looked like he'd rather do anything else. He eventually made his way to the spot and plunked down, but as close to the arm of the couch as possible.

You gave him a sweet smile. He looked away, but not before you caught the blush. You decided to let him speak first.

It was quiet for awhile. Your thoughts went to the noodles still sitting on the counter, probably cooling in the water making a film. He cleared his throat.

"I don't. Not a ton of people touch me." He stared dutifully in front of him. You stayed silent, afraid of scaring him into silence again. He shifted uncomfortably, letting out a growl of frustration. "I mean people touch me. I just meant. It's not. It's," He looked like each word was slowly strangling him, "Never that intimate. I guess. And never anyone like you."

You're eyebrows shot up. His head jerked toward you.

"Not like that, I mean like someone so pretty." You choked a little. He visibly flinched. "Ok. I think that's enough for tonight. I think I've made plenty an ass of myself for one God forsaken night." He made to move, but your hand covered his before you really thought about it. He immediately stopped, staring at your hand on top of his.

"Tommy, it's ok." He gave you a dubious look. "No, really. Lots of people don't know how to deal with touch when it's not normal for them-"

"I'm fine, I touch people all the time, it doesn't matter it's ridiculous-"

"Tommy." He stopped. You lifted both hands to slowly cradle his face. His eyes were panicky. He looked like he was fighting every instinct inside him. "Listen to me, love." His eyes widened. "You don't have to explain anything. I need you to know it's ok to freak out a little. It's ok for this to be new." You bit your lip. "It's ok if it feels good."

A small sound came from the fighter. His eyes slipped closed. It suddenly hit you. You sucked in a sharp breath, and you started to gently stroking his face to his neck.

"Oh Tommy. You spend all that time fighting in the ring, so much time dominating. You barely let anyone touch you before you knock them away." His dad was probably never there to offer him any type of physical love, and his mom was too distanced from anyone to truly give what Tommy craved. By that time, he had pushed his brother away, and you had never really noticed him to be very active in the dating area.

You could feel his control slipping, could feel him slowly letting you hold his head up while he explored the sensation of someone just feeling him. When he spoke, his speech was slightly slurred.

"Was always jus' scared."

"I know Tommy."

"Didn' want you t' leave."

"And why would I do something stupid like that."

There was a second of silence, but Tommy was too far in to go back now.

"Cuz' I only wanted you to touch. Only ever you." Your heart stopped. His eyes slowly opened, meeting yours. His gaze snapped to your lips, back up to your eyes. All it took was for your eyes to snap to his lush mouth, and he was surging to meet you.

You felt like you were melting, melding into him. His lips were sliding against yours, his hands suddenly huge, thumbs cupping your face while his hands rested on the sides of your neck. He kissed like you see him fight. The urgency and the power and the emotion. You ached all over.

You could hardly remember your name when you finally separated, heaving lungfuls of air. Maybe all that oxygen deprivation had really done something to your brain, because you might be having a stroke. It almost smelled like something was burning. Tommy's face did something funny and he sniffed the air.

Oh. OH. The garlic bread.

Both of you made a mad dash for the kitchen, Tommy arriving first and throwing the oven door open, grabbing whatever cloth he could find to take out the charred bread as you used a dishrag to flap away any smoke that spilled out.

Once he made sure his apartment wasn't going to burn down or that the ambulance wan't going to be making a surprise visit, he slumped against the counter, breathing heavily. You put your hands on your hips.

A few second went by, both of you trying to catch your breath. Tommy looked up at you. You met his eye.

You both melted into peeling laughter, trying to stay upright. It seemed like every time you two would get your shit together, you'd fall right back into cackles.

He finally reigned in the worst of the laughter, and slowly made his way to where you were standing. Your own laughs died down.

"Are we good?" you ask him gently. He nods his head, with his sweet smile.

"We're good" he replies gently. He gets this determined look on his face, and steps real close to you. He doesn't do anything else for awhile, instead looking to you, asking with questioning eyes.

You give him an encouraging smile. He smiles right back at you, and for the second time tonight, strong arms envelop you.

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fnaf-a-palooza · 3 years

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May I request some Yandere Hcs of Candy and RAT?

Warning(s): Yandere Themes

Candy

• Will be hard to actually figure out he's a yandere if I'm being honest. Despite what others might think, but Candy is rather cunning when he wants to be. So when he learns about what he's feeling for you, he keeps it to himself as he gets to know you.

• It is agonizing the whole time; mostly because his patience does get thinner each passing day. Candy just wants to finally make his move but also doesn't want to ruin his chance. He must keep this up and not cave, but it's hard to. Especially when he does possess jealous tendencies. Not as bad as other yanderes but he really just wants to do something about it.

• This whole plan he has is basically to win you over by charming you with his playfulness and teasing. He at least wants you to get to know him fully so when it all comes down to it, he can just say that you're lying to yourself. That you honestly did like him as he was and that you're just taking one bad thing over all the good he's shown you. Didn't you love him? Don't you love him?

• So yeah, Candy can be a bit manipulative, but that's only when his mind is in the right place. If his emotions get in the way, he gets sloppy in his actions and it just seems desperate to keep you around. Which is why that is the reason why you will figure things out. One day he will simply not take anymore pining after you and spill.

• It's so off that he practically knows so much about you. Unsettling even. During times when you're not around him, Candy takes it upon himself know more. Soon he's found out your favorites, your hobbies, family, friends, etc. He's not as obsessive as his twin sister, but still obsessive nonetheless.

• Should you try to get away from all this or just outright leave, he won't let you have the chance. It was a very hasty choice in the moment because he was absolutely scared of this outcome, but Candy swiftly knocks you out. He takes a moment to collect himself, inwardly frustrated with his actions and that he wasn't fully prepared for all this. He'll as Penguin for some assistance as he takes you back home. In time, he hopes, you might come to understand why he did this.

RAT

• You know how I said that Springtrap would be a dangerous yandere to have? Yeah, RAT is on the same level, but maybe even worse. He's so darn controlling to the point where it's infuriating, but he's extremely intimidating... Still the thing is, you might even not believe he had feelings for you and assume RAT had something against you.

• Kidnapping is literally the second thing that'll happen to you with this guy. The first being of course; intense stalking. You always have a creeping feeling that your every move is being observed. It's extremely disturbing and even more so when you don't know where this presence is coming from.

• Immediately there's the assumption that RAT had malicious intentions with you; murdering you was what goes through your mind. Upon hearing this, he laughs a little, maybe even playing around with the idea just to get a reaction out of you. Anyways, he'll outright tell you that no, he intends on keeping you.

• Again, like Springtrap, he's going to want to know everything about what you do and such. Might as well kiss your old life goodbye too because he is absolutely not letting you go ever. Escaping RAT is utterly terrifying and this man treats the whole thing as a game. Playing around with your fear and emotions the whole way.

• He's the type to tell you, "You'll learn to love me eventually" but you know, his tone is more sinister than sweet. Don't get me wrong, he is very much infatuated, but he just loves your expressions and wants to know what you'd do in certain situations.

• Got to mention this very important detail; RAT is probably the most jealous yandere (unless someone can top that) out of the ones we've talked about so far. He is such a baby when it comes to not having your attention to the point where if you so much as look at someone with the slightest hint of admiration or friendliness, he's gonna flip. He wants you to love him! No one else!

• Man is a jerk towards you but if someone so much as does anything remotely insulting towards you... They're gone. As mentioned, he does care, deep down. It's just that he isn't willing to share at all and is overall a mess when it comes to treating these sort of emotions. Worst part is that he is very aware, but he chooses not to care.

#fnac #yandere fnac #human fnac #yandere candy #yandere RAT #fnac x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x reader

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hardpacker · 2 years

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i was so surprised people were finding my humble blog until i did some looking around, and it seems like some big time twitch gamer has been playing Fin Fin of all things. what is in the air right now? fin fin zeitgeist? i wonder...

fortunately, fin fin is now preserved on the internet archive and playable with a Virtual Machine if it's not compatible with your system. but wow, this sudden revival makes me want to build an actual archival site for all my stuff instead of only a tumblr blog, where neither permanence nor provenance is guaranteed. and i sure do love to make a website ^_^

my personal Fin Fin story is: in 3rd grade my friend Lindsay showed me a black and white photocopy of a very short newspaper article while we were sitting in a huge pine tree at recess. i know exactly where we were and what time of year it was, because although the image wasn't in colour and mostly illegible, i was quickly obsessed with it. i made a copy of that copy and brought it home.

honestly it feels like i didn't go to elementary school at all and everything i learned, i learned at my friend Fin Fin's house lol

i loved being in the water. i loved anything in the water. i drew those things all kids (?) seem to draw-- like piles and piles of elaborate cross-sections of the ocean to show all the plants and animals living in it. this translated to toys and eventually games as well. this Littlest Petshop seahorse was completely mesmerising to me... it's not like you could do much with it, but it seemed magical. each side of the tank is meant to have hot or cold water, changing the seahorse's colour. (you pick it up with the magnet wand)

and were any of you also on fire for any type of rotating/autonomous aquarium toy? they still make those now, but it was something that seemed to populate a fair number of bedrooms or kitchen counters.

so Fin Fin slotted in nicely.

i already had some training on the computer— i was really bad at typing so my mom dragged an old desktop (with the built-in monitor!) and seemingly had me type directly into the terminal lol. i was also really bad at math, and was instructed to play the 1994 Math Blaster with the hope that it being a computer game (precious to me) would like, click my brain into place or something.

it seems weird to say “my parents used computers for work” but it was sort of notable in that we also had a computer at home for my sibling and i to play on— my parents used that one for socializing and by that i mean playing 7th Guest and Myst— the latter of which i loved to sneakily watch and would later play, too. i had a huuuuge poster of the Sunners from Riven's Jungle Island because i was obsessed… i'm sure you can see why. i love any Caribbean place and any aquatic guy.

i first played the demo version of Fin Fin. it let us preview other Fujitsu properties, like Virtual Safari, a colonial project developed by Anglia Multimedia (a subsidiary of Anglia TV, now ITV Anglia) which no longer exists. it was all about taking photos of the wildlife with the footage coming from Anglia's Survival series, but it was pretty unsettling.... and it felt literally dark, too, colours and lighting-wise, but maybe that was more the mood than the visuals. i can't find someone else playing it at a decent quality, so maybe that means i have to do it again........

somewhere in this time i also played Creatures (1996), but my most prominent memories are of Creatures II (1998.) just like fin fin, these games have a lasting and self-sustaining fandom. i've utilised fan-made (and in some cases, fan-turned-staff-turned-fan) injections and gene/egg modifications over the years whenever i boot it up again... the series is on GOG if you want to play it too!

anything that looks like this? absolutely marvellous to me. i can FEEL my brain turning on.

Creatures is more about the evolution/your hand in their evolution and arriving at a certain level of "advancement" plus what you find along the way. plus, the norns are infuriating. i love them, but my god they are truly helpless lol so be prepared! meanwhile, fin fin is more about emotional development, especially that of the kid playing it. it's an emotional experience, rather than the player taking on a teaching role.

there's a lot of articles-- maybe even including the one i first read-- that are written through an excruciatingly contemptuous adult tone, as though fin fin was ever designed with adults explicitly in mind. which isn't to say that adults were never invited to enjoy it-- they were, and they do! i certainly do, lol! (i also cannot begin to imagine how i'd feel about it if it hadn't been so formative.) fin fin isn't trying to mirror real life exactly. fin fin lives inside a computer-- so what would that look like? what would that act like? it is, genuinely, like trying to envision an alien planet.

what is it about these virtual pets that even the pixels of a Tamagotchi were/are so deeply empathised with? i think it's that they weren't trying to create the real world, but a world that would exist in a computer, something sumptuous, a visual delight, essentially boundless but with a unique and memorable feel to it. it's in stark contrast to the cloying and frantic literalism of games since the 2000s. i mean we all feel it now-- "I want shorter games with worse graphics made by people paid more to work less and I'm not kidding."

these early graphics stick out so much in our minds as something WE had a hand in creating, in our minds. but projection wasn't the only mechanism creating this experience, it was also the necessary reflection as mistakes are made and corrected, and the world is explored, and cause and effect are witnessed. fin fin was a first step and first contact with something that recognised our presence. there was more room for our imagination to fill in any blanks or create connections between ourselves/experiences and the virtual world.

i touched on this/other childhood games some in my Klonoa post.

yes, the Myst series' pre-rended backgrounds are gorgeous to me, while dated now-- and even these aren't hyper-literal. you look at them now and of course our imaginations were filling in where the answers fell away into the expanse, and even moreso as we move away from their point in game history. they certainly weren't made with the same intent as something like a virtual pet. they're a story, not a little guy. a virtual world, or a simulated life, while limitless, is small and precious, too. nurturing isn't the same as teaching, having any kind of authority inside the space, the space which seemingly continues after you leave it-- it's a sense of mutual care.

The project's executive producer is the Japanese film director Makoto Tezuka and his aim, he says, was to create a character and environment that would "survive for 1,000 years". - via the times, 1997

i played through the Fin Fin storybook (To Teo and Back with Jack) with my sibling, with friends, with cousins... but i found it lacked a lot of the charm, in part because i didn't find myself needing an in-game analogue. maybe it would've worked better for kids even younger than me?

there was a little card that game with the game that you could fill out to "receive promotional updates and prizes" which i did do, but for the life of me i don't remember what if anything i might've received. and i was very lucky to have two of the now-rare deluxe version Fin Fin plushies... i only have two because my dog chewed the eyes off of one of them and i was aghast. so that's what i mean by lucky, because this happened right as the window was closing on Fin Fin. these things just can't be found anymore. i've really gotta rescue them from my parents' house.

it's really sweet that fin fin is given new life ever so often. i hope everyone enjoys their new friend 💙

#fin fin #fujitsu #teo the magic planet #fin-fin #finfin #writing #computer games #diary #toys #littlest petshop #littlest pet shop #virtual life #virtual pet #1990s

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lunarmessenger · 4 years

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Hi!!!!!!!! I just love jealous RFA so what their (plus minor duo but only if it’s not too much) reaction would be if girl confessed and they thought it’d be for RFA but turns out it’s for MC? And I love your chibi drawings that’s so precious >~<

Ohho, aren’t you precious? I actually love this concept omg thank you so much for your request!! Sorry it took me a bit to get it written out ;;; - luna xx

warnings: none really? just a bit of jealousy and possessiveness haha

Zen:

• He’s literally so butt hurt

• He’s so used to admirers swarming the two of you to get his autograph or try to pine for his number

• While he gladly gives autographs for fans and even pictures, he always respectfully declined those who asked for his number

• He just loved seeing the slight tint of red on your cheeks when you got jealous and that’s why he wasn’t normally so forceful of telling other people no when they asked for his number

• Until one day you had went to go grab some water during one of Zen’s breaks at rehearsal

• One of his coworkers, a beautiful woman with long black hair and the perfect figure strolled up she reminded him a bit of Jumin honestly

• He was actually a little nervous to tell her no because he didn’t want to cause a scene but he would do it for you because he loves you

• So he begrudgingly held out his hand and she plops a piece of paper into it, a smirk on her face as he takes a deep breath

• “Look, I know that you and I work together but that doesn’t mean I’m available—”

• “Tell them that when they’re done with you, they should give me a call.”

• That’s when it clicks for him as he notices the way her dark eyes loom over your approaching figure, her tongue licking her lips as she winks at him then walks away

• He’s so infuriated that it hurts

• “Everything okay, Zen?”

• He rips the paper into so many pieces you didn’t even think that was possible

• “How about you go home, MC; I’ll tell you about it later.”

• You laughed for ages and teased him about it for weeks because, well

• “You’re not the only hot one in this relationship, Zen.”

Yoosung

• He’s always super bashful when girls in his class try to ask him out because he rarely finds himself attractive

• You were the same in a way; you were more confident than him, but still shy when people complimented you

• So while the two of you are on his campus, you holding flashcards in front of him to help him study

• You started to smile at a girl that approached the two of you, cheeks blazing pink as she stuttered over her words

• Her blue eyes were wide as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, looking as if she was taking deep breaths to calm herself

• “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve seen you both around for a while, and I just…well…”

• Yoosung turns just as pink, brows furrowing as he stutters over his words too

• “I appreciate it but I am taken!”

• For a moment the girl furrows her brows in confusion, adjusting the straps of her backpack as she tilts her head

• “Um…okay? Anyway, I think you’re really attractive and so; please accept my letter!”

• Both of your jaws drop as she kneels down and hands the letter towards you, hands trembling as you take it and nod

• “Aha, um…thank you?”

• She scurries off before you can even turn it over, and when you do you see your name written in beautiful penmanship surrounded by hearts

• Before you can even open it, Yoosung has snatched it out of your hands

• “Wha—Yoosung!”

• His purple eyes were clouded with anger as he rips it to shreds, an almost growl escaping his lips as he grunts

• “You’re mine. No need to read this letter when it’s gonna end up in the trash.”

• You couldn’t help but laugh at his possessiveness, tackling him in a hug and peppering his face with kisses as you shook your head.

• “What am I going to do with you?”

Jaehee

• She’s not the jealous type usually

• Like you can mention in passing that you were hit on and it won’t phase her a bit

• When it happens in front of her though? That’s a bit different;;;;

• Men tend to hit on the both of you often so that doesn’t phase her much but when it’s women?? Uh oh

• A really sweet woman was frequenting the bakery often; she would always get the same treat and the same drink, sitting at a table by the window

• She was quite pretty; short curly hair and tanned skin that had been specially kissed by the sun

• Jaehee was making the coffee for the next order when you’d gone to check on every table, stopping at hers and asking if she’d like another

• “No, thank you but…I was wondering. Would you like to go out for dinner some time?”

• Before you’d had a chance to respond you heard the sound of ceramic crashing, the mug Jaehee was holding now in pieces on the floor as she looked in your direction

• “Ah, while I’m flattered, I do have a girlfriend…;;;”

• The woman was understanding, putting two and two together as Jaehee rushed to pick up the mug and stomped into the back area

• “Jaehee! Jae, omg why are you so mad please—”

• “Because you’re my partner and how dare she think for a second that—”

• You interrupted her with a kiss and that shut her up quickly

• “You should be possessive more often. I actually like it…”

• “Shut up, MC.”

Jumin

• He has plenty of women in the business world that try to win his heart even though you’ve already done that lol

• So he’s actually quite surprised when you join him for a business meeting and he notices one of the women staring at you

• It’s so painfully obvious he’s actually offended that she isn’t hiding it

• She peers up at you through her bangs that frame her face, short hair styled perfectly as she leans back in her office chair

• Jumin couldn’t even focus and in minutes the meeting was over and she was instantly at your side

• “What?” He’s stunned, watching as she gently takes your hand in hers and kisses it

• “I’ve heard plenty about you, MC. While I’m sure Jumin appreciates you as a business asset, I would love to get to know you on a more personal level.”

• He is livid

• Before you can respond he’s wrapped an arm around you and snatched you away from her, a smirk on her face as he frowns at her

• “I’d appreciate if you let their hand go. We have business to tend to; at home. Come along, MC.”

• “Jumin oh—” He has you pressed so close to him that you can smell his cologne, your face flushed from embarrassment as she grins

• “It was nice meeting you!”

• Jumin scoffs as he escorts you out of the meeting room

• You’re shocked; he’s never lost control like that, not even when men would make passes at you during events or dinner parties

• “So, what was that?”

• “We will not be discussing this, MC. Now, would you like French, or Italian for lunch?”

• You grin as you get in the elevator with him, pressing a small kiss to his cheek

• “No matter what, Jumin. You’re the one for me.”

707

• He makes so many jokes about the women that fawn over him that he too his stunned when a woman confesses their love for you

• It was during an RFA party, and you’d worn a particularly flattering outfit that accentuated all the right places

• He was watching you from afar when he noticed a woman with equal beauty walk up to you, long blonde hair and brown eyes drinking you in as she slightly leaned against you

• “Oh, it looks like I’ve had too much to drink; maybe you’d like to take me home? I’ve been an admirer of yours for a while…”

• You’re so embarrassed that you don’t know what to say; a clutter of “ums” and “uhs” leaving your mouth as you tried to make sure she didn’t fall

• With you holding her up it gave her a chance to press against you even more so much so that you could feel and see most of her chest oh god Saeyoung help me

• “Oh~ I am also way too drunk and love showing off my boobs to make people like me!”

• You immediately drop the woman in shock when you see your boyfriend waltzing towards you in a dress, a long red wig swishing behind him as he lands on you

• It couldn’t be helped; you were laughing so hard that you nearly fell over, Saeyoung grinning as he sneered at the woman who looked at the two of you in confusion

• “Wait…what?”

• “Oh! I’m sorry miss um, but uh, this is my boyfriend—”

• “Who happily takes them home every night so if you’d please let us be that would be the most polite!” He says in a sing song voice, placing a hand on your chest as you snort

• You’d never seen a woman walk away so fast in your life

• “Good riddance…how classless.”

• “Saeyoung you literally put on a dress just to be petty.”

• “That’s different MC.”

• He receives admirers from all over who adore mainly his work; and it doubles when they realize how handsome the painter is

• During an exhibition he’d gathered a rather large crowd, mostly women which wasn’t surprising

• It didn’t bother you much; you trusted V, and he always made it clear that he was happy in his relationship with you to all of the women who tried to grow close to him

• You’d gone to a different section of the gallery to take a minute to yourself, staring at V’s painting of you that he’d done with a fond smile

• “While he is talented, he surely will never be able to capture the beauty of the real thing.”

• You turned your head in surprise to see a woman staring at you, red lips and sharp green eyes piercing as she held out a glass of champagne towards you

• “Oh, well um…thank you.”

• “Of course. I understand the appeal to him but…I like to think that his partner is much more enticing.”

• You couldn’t help but blush as you stared at your bubbling champagne

• Then, the familiar smell of lavender and cedar danced across your nose, your head turning to see V approaching

• “You’re absolutely right, miss. They are the most enticing, and that’s why I made them mine. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

• He plucks the champagne out of your hand and places it on the bench beside you, whisking you away while the woman pouts and hurries off

• “Um, V?”

• He hides the two of you in a dark hallway, closed off from the gallery as he presses you against the wall

• “I don’t know how you do this all the time MC; that was painful for me to see. Promise me that I’m the only one you’ll ever look at?”

• You giggle as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your forehead against his as you whisper

• “I promise. She’s no match for you, my love.”

• He seals the promise with a kiss, savoring your taste as he breathes out

• “Let’s just stay like this for a little longer…”

Saeran

• He’s so shy already that when he receives confessions from women he literally shuts down

• It’s even worse when women confess their love to you like what???

• He understands because he’s knows that you’re beautiful and that you’re such an amazing person

• But you’re also his like excuse me?

• You’re enjoying your lunch in the park that you always take once a week

• You were sketching in your journal while he explained the different plants you were seeing; it was one of your favorite pass times to do before it got too late

• The two of you were unaware that your sketching and laughter had gained the attention of another, who was working up the courage to confess

• She’d finally gained said courage, walking up with a brand new journal as she cleared her throat

• “Um…excuse me?”

• You both turned your eyes towards her, freckles dotting her shy face as she handed the book to you

• “I always see you drawing and, well, you’re really good. So I wanted you to have this.”

• You were shocked; such kindness from a stranger. But this was a gift you couldn’t accept.

• “Oh, thank you so much! But I can’t accept this, really because—”

• “Because I am their boyfriend.” You didn’t expect him to speak up, head snapping towards him in surprise

• He wasn’t angry just more apologetic; he’d experienced the same fear of rejection when he was pursuing you and he knew that what she was feeling wasn’t good

• “Oh, I see. Okay. Well, I’ll leave you two alone then.”

• She walked away dejected while he reached for your hand

• “I think I’ve just experienced jealousy and I didn’t like it much.”

• You giggled, resting your head in his lap as you looked at him

• “You handled it graciously, darling. Let’s enjoy the sun then head home.”

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terapsina · 3 years

Text

I think I've done it. For real this time. I've identified the crucial detail that I need to dive headfirst over a cliff into shipping something.

S l o w b u r n 🔥

See, the thing is, I don't like it when the character ends up with someone they already had a crush on before the setting of the story takes place. I want to see the characters move on from those as their characters develop through the story. Married people and exes often being the exception to the rule.

And I almost never like it when they end up with someone they immediately 'fell for' during the start because those always feel too fast and get boring. Crushes that no one immediately does anything about are a different thing entirely though.

But slow burn. Ohhh, that's the stuff.

And it doesn't have to be a specific kind of slow burn. I'll fall for BFFs who slowly develop feelings for each other, and turn into pining idiots who look like this 😍 every other minute which makes them obvious to everyone except each other.

And I'll adore rivals or even enemies forced to work together and developing a respect and a friendship and then ultimately one day realizing 'oh fuck I'm in love with that idiot'.

And exes who have recently gotten back in the same area after a while apart, trying to move on and fighting their old feelings and starting to feel like it's working only to be punched in the face because nope. Still utter fools in love.

And I'll go for the friends who slowly develop opposing views and goals and become enemies but still care about each other and love each despite the fact they're now on opposite sides of a bloody conflict, despite the fact that maybe they don't want to care and wish they could stop.

And I'll enjoy the partners in arms who don't start particularly close but that just makes it easier to talk to each other because they don't feel like they need to be something particular for each other and that makes them get to know each other on levels no one else ever has.

And I don't need them to develop their feelings at the same pace. Like who doesn't enjoy a good fight between an OTP where one of them screams an abrupt and angry and painful 'because I love you' when the other person had no idea and hadn't even taken the time to explore their own feelings up to then.

And no, I won't love every slow burn, there are some that rub me entirely the wrong way and make me utterly recoil from them. An excellent example being the old 'bad guy trying to manipulate the good guy to not trust their friends', or the ever infuriating 'I'm the only one who cares about you', or the always toxic undercover mass murderer going 'but I didn't know I would fall for you for real when I planned to do to you what I've never felt guilty doing to others' 🤢.

I mean I do sometimes ship villains with heroes. And the villains can be terrible people who have done a lot of bad things, but they have to respect the heroes boundaries. They have to shut up and accept the hero not feeling the same way without petty retaliation. They do that? I'll ship it and find a fic where the hero actually does return those affections.

Actually this one is important to the 'good guy characters' too. If they don't accept no for a no I don't care that they're on the side of the good guys and have never done anything bad or murdery. I'll hate that ship.

So I guess the thing that floats my boat is slow burns of various kinds as long as they contain the characters respecting each other's freedom of choice.

Unless we're talking two characters who are utterly awful people who should objectively speaking both be in prison but it's fun to watch them be a mutually destructive dumpster fire disasters who will probably burn each other alive. In which case I still have some rules but they can do as much petty retaliation on each other as they want and I'll just go grab popcorn.

And absolutely none of it needs to be canon. The writers just need to do the background. I can get to the 'and then they kissed' 😘🥰 allllll by myself.

Thank you for coming to my ship captain talk. It's been fun 😎

#swan queen #hizzie #clizzy #masriel #pardison #elejah #nyssara #bellarke #kathryn x chakotay #shipping #terapsina rambles #cherik #terapsina's shipping rambles

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hobbitsetal · 4 years

Text

Good morning, humanity, you should totally watch ‘How to Steal a Million’

Do you like

1. heist movies?

2. 60s fashion at its most glorious and most elegant?

3. Audrey Hepburn?

4. young hot and charming Peter O’Toole?

5. fabulous chemistry and absolutely delightful and quotable dialogue?

6. complete and utter nonsense and shenanigans

7. ART

8. the magnificent dichotomy between art and forgery as art

9. a soundtrack by the iconic John Williams (yes, that John Williams—this is edited from my original post in which I incorrectly named Henry Mancini as the composer)

10. the world’s most ridiculous and delightful romance, i swear

11. a plot that hinges on human nature and the infuriating sound of an incessant alarm

12. ~plot twists~

13. the world’s greatest criminal dad. he’s so insane, he’s so funny, and he’s so gosh darn unrepentant on every level.

14. PINING in CONFINED SPACES

15. seriously, when i say “heist movie,” i have a profound love for the planning and the execution of this crime

16. it’s only a sort of crime, to cover up a bigger crime.

17. “you don’t think I’d take something that doesn’t belong to me?!” *incredulous look* “ah yes, my mistake”

18. ~Paris~

19. the Gunshot Scene. literally my favorite. the whole “meet cute” is just... *chef’s kiss*

20. Audrey Hepburn in galoshes and nightgown, and also being super relatable with reading a suspense novel while home alone and then freaking out when she hears a noise

in conclusion, please go watch this movie and then come scream with me. it’s just so dang good.

#how to steal a million #audrey hepburn #peter otoole #i have a passionate and abiding love for this movie

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apple-rose301 · 4 years

Note

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all?

Hmm been doin’ some thinkin’ on this, friend, and i’ve decided on some headcanons i’ll absolutely fight anyone on in regards to HLVRAI:

Benrey just flat out doesn’t understand alot of human things, and experiences many of them for the first time with the Science Team. Emotions like genuine anger, sadness, love, and hope; experiences like amusement parks, arcades, water parks/beaches (hc that before the ResCas Benrey didn’t really go outside very much aside from his own home, since it feels like Tommy was really his only friend back then); anything that was alien to Benrey slowly becomes his nature as he starts feeling more and more human with them. That is, of course, only within readon when he manages to work things out with everyone, especially Gordos (what with the hand being cut off and all).

Bit on the Tomrey side since I quite like it and definitely need to draw it someday, Benrey and Tommy mutually pined for a time. Tommy was surprisingly the first to let go of his feelings, not wanting to lose the good friendship he already has with the eldritch being; Benrey, on the other hand, tried to cling onto those feelings since he’s never really had a legitimate crush on anyone else. Prior to the ResCas incident and once these feelings were realized respectively between the two, it was obvious within the workplace that they were dancing around each other and really, really prolonging the inevitability of them being a couple (in the eyes of a few ppl who worked with them, that is). The moment Tommy decides not to pursue his feelings, it got a bit easier to face Benrey and, though he’s quite smart and—in my opinion—more emotionally understanding, it’s a surprise he managed to go this long not detecting the obvious hints of his buddy’s attraction. During the first couple of events in HLVRAI, Benrey still quite likes Tommy—albeit more restrained about it, but overtime comes to pine for Gordos instead.

THAT’S ANOTHER HEADCANON IM SORRY I TYPE ALOT AND YOU OPENED UP A WHOLE ‘NOTHER LEVEL OF JACE RANTING— so! Last headcanon before I talk your ear off, Benrey and Gordos pining momence cuz i’m a fool; except Gordos pines first. When he meets this strange man asking for his passport, at first he’s annoyed and infuriated to his core, Benrey the same since this dumb man isn’t following passport protocol. Overtime though as they interact with each other more and more, Gordos is the one to have a heart-flipped turn around, and is both surprised and confused with himself because—it’s Benrey, how could he like Benrey? So this is all happening with his feelings all jumbled up, and Benrey’s even more confused with the guy since he’s acting weirder and weirder and quite honestly even more suspicious to him. In reality Gordos is just a mess and can’t form coherent thoughts one way or another abt the man that would just not leave him alone for even a second. Benrey, on the other hand, doesn’t properly realize his feelings until after the arm being cut off incident. Which makes all the matters worse considering 1) he got Gordos’ arm lopped off, 2) Gordos is doing his damnest to absolutely eviscerate whatever good feelings he had abt the guy, and 3) Benrey’s going to be the big boss at the end of all this. This leads to a frustrated alien to attempt to speedrun his feelings—throwing terribly-timed flirts and overall being an extra nuisance to Gordos, which only confuses and frustrates him even more. The rest of the Science Team is seeing this all happening and just don’t really know what to do with these idiots, Tommy especially considering my prior headcanon. The end of both the above headcanon and this one is Frenreylatta. They figure themselves out overtime and manage to confess to each other far off into the future (had to end it here, gettin’ FAR TOO LONG aha!).

Benrey listens to Avril Lavigne, solely thanks to me drawing Benrey when I listen to Sk8r Boy and Girlfriend. He bops so hard to these tunes specifically (and What the Hell).

That’s the few headcanons i’d like to share abt what i’d place my bets on, thanks for the ask eggy!! :D

#jman.txt #eggy-14 #hlvrai #tomrey #frenrey #frenreylatta #<- tagging for the headcanons #ask meme

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

Text

A Heart Of Ice

Prompt: Pride Fandom: Winx Club Pair: Icy/Bloom Summary: Witches shouldn't be with fairies, Icy knows this. And yet she still finds herself woefully drawn to Bloom.

It is a pride thing, she knows. That is why she can’t give in. That is why she can’t let the fairy love her. Moreso, that is why she can’t love the fairy. Why she can’t love anyone at all. She has a reputation to uphold, a frigid heart to maintain. And if the fairy gets too close the ice around it might just melt.

She thinks that the danger had always been there. From the very moment that the fairy had so rudely fluttered into her life. She had spunk, determination, and a fire to match her power--however weak it had been the first time they had met.

How terribly does she wish that the fairy wouldn’t have grown into her powers. Perhaps if she hadn’t--if Icy had had her way and whittled her confidence away to nothing at all--then she would have nothing to be drawn to. But as it were, the fairy has bite. It isn’t all that often that someone has the brazenness to get in her face, to talk back and fight back. And perhaps that is part of her allure. Who is she kidding, it is most of Bloom’s allure.

She had been judgemental of Darcy when she started pining over Riven.Projection, it couldn’t be anything else. To scold and shame Darcy was to scold and shame herself; the both of them could use it. Witches don’t fall in love. Witches aren’t soft. All the same she had been fixated on Bloom. It was for her power and for her power alone, that is what she vowed. But she knows that it was far more than that.

She thinks of the fairy more than she cares to admit. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so alarming if those thoughts were seeping in simmering resentment. But mostly when her mind drifts to the fairy it is with fondness. Fondness for her witty comebacks and for her taking no bullshit.

Each time that the fairy had gotten the better of her had infuriated and intrigued her in one fell swoop. And so she resents Bloom with more fury. Maybe if she throws enough ice and a generous helping of petty insults, she can drive the feelings out.

Somewhere along the lines she begins to wonder. Wonder why she has so many reservations. Why she can’t stomach the idea of letting herself fall in love. She could add her own wicked flavor to it. She doesn’t have to be soft…

But a witch and a fairy? Unheard of. Absolutely vile.

It was one thing for Darcy to finally cave in and snatch Riven for herself. And this time without the dark intent. It chills even Icy to think that the man had driven dark intent from Darcy. She swallows, if Riven is capable of such a feat then Bloom can surely drive Icy’s essence out.

She pulls a dusty book--a sinister old tome--from the shelf and flips to a thumbs her way through it. If she can’t find a spell to remove her capacity to love, then she will find one to eradicate her emotions entirely. It can’t possibly get any colder than emotionless.

Stormy enters their dorm, Helia in tow. Icy swallows; what is happening to them? What have they become? Stormy has her hand in his. Icy thinks that it was a mistake to come back to Cloud Tower and put in a serious effort to graduate.

Perhaps that is another option; studies come so naturally to her. Maybe she ought simply engross herself in them and make no time for anything else. She is already back at the top of her class, it wouldn’t be too hard to request a heavier workload.

Stormy takes a seat and leans against Helia. He is doing ‘the hair thing’ again. The hair thing, as Icy has come to find out, is when Helia puts his hands on either side of her head and floofs the witch’s hair like he might do with a pillow.

“Gag me.” Darcy rolls her eyes.

Riven chuckles and sets his drink down. Apparently the sentiment is shared by everyone but Stormy and Helia. Not that they are paying any mind to anyone around them.

“So, Icy?” Darcy speaks up. “Does it feel weird to be the only one without a guy?”

“Yeah!’ Stormy perks up. “Aren’t you lonely?”

Icy flips the page with more force than necessary. “What happened to love is repulsive, ladies?”

Darcy shrugs, “we’re supposed to be turning a new leaf or whatever.”

“And besides.” Stormy grumbles. “If that Mirta can go full on fairy then why shouldn’t we mix it up?”

“You just like having someone play with your hair.”

“Wouldn’t you though?” Helia asks. He gives Stormy’s hair a final ruffle.

“You don’t have to find a gentle man like Helia.” Riven points out. “There are plenty of men like yours truly.” He wiggles his brows.

“Stop that.” Darcy swats him.

“Helia is not a gentle man! He’s tough!”

Helia clears his throat. “Actually, I like to think that I am a gentle soul.”

“Helia is a pacifist.” Riven reminds.

Icy is certain that, that is exactly why things are going so smoothly between the two. In the way that Darcy and Riven share a rougher edge, Helia and Stormy are perfect opposites. He is the mellow to her tempestuousness and she is punch in the face when he can use a bodyguard.

“I am not interested in men, ‘real’ or not.” Icy says flatly. And she isn’t lying. She couldn’t care less about the specialists. Fairies. She likes fairies. She rubs her face with her hands. Why does she have to like fairies?

She’d been rather fond of Mirta too. She hadn’t been fond, she had loved her from the start; loved that quirky hair cut, and that newage fashion, that stupid pumpkin shirt... and so she had to get rid of her. Had to drive her out.

She slams the book shut and shoves it aside.

“Whao, that book too difficult for you?” Darcy asks.

She isn’t in the mood for jokes and jests. “It’s useless, Darcy! Just like a certain witch!”

Stormy cackles. “She got you, Darcy!”

“Shut up.”

The sound of their squabbles follows her down the hall.

.oOo.

Bloom would feel awful, absolutely guilty if Icy hadn’t made her first year at Alfea so difficult. But the fact is that she had. She had made it so hard. Maybe it is the witchy thing to do, but she can’t resist. She flashes her most charming smile as the witch passes, “morning, Icy.”

The woman halts and seems to go rigid. “What do you want?”

Bloom props herself against the outerwall of a boutique. “Just trying to be friendly.”

“Disgusting.”

Bloom laughs and the witch swallows. Bloom isn’t certain, not one hundred percent, but she is fairly confident that her long time foe isn’t as resentful as she would like Bloom to think. Her quips lack their usual power, their typical sting. Tecna swears up and down that, according to her calculations, the likelihood of Icy harboring some deeply closeted feelsings for her are rather high.

Mostly, the ice witch has been ignoring her entirely. It is a change of pace and Bloom finds it surprisingly hard to adjust to.

“Come on, aren’t you going to trash my outfit or something? Tell me that my hair looks awful?”

Icy shrugs. “I don’t have the time to waste on you.” She gestures to an armful of textbooks.

She knows that she shouldn’t. She knows that Griffin would applaud her for it. But the words leave her mouth before she can stop them, “you mean you don’t want me to be your study buddy?”

“I can think of nothing more revolting.” The witch, to the best of her ability with them full, crosses her arms across her chest.

“If you say so. I was going to maybe call Sky.” Bloom returns the shrug. “He’s been asking if I’d be interested in rekindling a spark.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Her voice is level. Frigid as ever. But her eyes betray her at least somewhat.

Bloom thinks of the time that the witch had nearly murdered Kiko, thinks of how she’d yanked her powers from her after tormenting her parents. Suddenly it is so easy, “of course it does.” She steps closer to the witch. Leans in, close to her ear and whispers, “I know.”

Icy gives a soft tsk. “What do you think you know?”

Bloom tilts her head and brushes Icy’s bangs behind her ear. The witch gives a slight shudder. “I know how you feel about me.”

That blush is priceless. Almost enough to make up for several years of relentless harassment. But it isn’t quite enough. “I wonder how the other witches would react to that…”

And then her face drains of all color. Somehow she is paler than usual. “As if I would fall in love with a fairy.” She spits the word like a poison before deliberately shoving her way past.

The guilt washes over her immediately. How could she have weaponized love like that? She isn’t sure how Icy can talk the way that she does with no remorse whatsoever. For what it’s worth, Bloom can’t bring herself to hate Icy, afterall she does owe her confidence and prowess to the witch. “Icy, wait!”

She doesn’t know why she had bothered. Icy isn’t one for talking on a good day. Much less on a day where her pride has been put on the line along with some sturdy blackmail.

.oOo.

Helia is slumbering in Stormy’s arms and Darcy and Riven are well into a hit of weed. She slams the door anyhow. Darcy and Riven jerk. Stormy bolts right up with a, “whao! What’s going on?”

“Go back to sleep.” She grumbles though she doesn’t exactly help her do that when she slams her textbooks down on the table.

“Who bristled your broomstick?” Darcy quirks a brow.

“That loser, Bloom.”

“Really, you’re still feuding with her?”

“What of it, Darcy? We have many scores to settle.” And she is falling very behind where victories are concerned.

“Have you tried working things out with her?” Helia asks.

“Why would I want to do that?” But more than anything she does. She doesn’t want to want that, but she does. So so badly. She kicks her boots off and flops down upon her mattress. “That is the last thing I’d like to do.”

“If you say so.” Darcy rolls her eyes. “But would it kill you to keep your lover’s quarrels to yourself?”

Stormy sniggers. It takes everything in Icy’s soul to not jerk upright. Though her entire body goes rigid she grumbles, “would it kill you to hit your blunts outside?”

.oOo.

She doesn’t see Icy for quite some time. Maybe a month and a few days since their last run in. Possibly it is better that way. But she their last encounter constantly replays in her head and each time she finds herself biting her lip, her stomach fluttering with unease. She likes to think that the witch will be okay considering that her secret has been quite safe. She’d even avoided talking about it with Stella. If Stella found out, everyone else would.

So it has been Tecna and Flora who have been hearing the most of her complaints and concerns. And it was Flora who suggested trying to speak with Icy again. She finds the witch sitting in an ice cream parlor. She should have known that Icy would lurk there.

Bloom takes a deep breath and sits herself across from Icy.

The witch gives a very pointed and sharp inhale. She doesn’t look up. “What do you want, pixie?”

“To apologize.” She starts. “I wouldn’t have told anyone, I know how brutal witches can be.”

Suddenly Icy is fully invested in her ice cream. Granted, she was pretty enthralled with the treat to begin with. Bloom bites back a chuckle.

“I guess I was just mad about...everything.”

“Get to the point.”

“I sort of started with my point. Sorry for…” she trails off. She has a pretty good feeling that Icy wouldn’t take well to her so bluntly calling her on her feelings. “For implying that you would be in love with me. That’s crazy, right.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Bloom. You knew exactly what you were doing. You know that I know...blah blah, you get the gist.”

This time Bloom does laugh. The witch’s sense of humor is rather agreeable when it isn’t at someone else’s expense.

“Alright. I’m sorry that I made fun of your crush.”

“Fuck off.”

Bloom shakes her head. “Do you really want that?”

“Yes.” She takes a particularly big spoonful of ice cream. “I really do.”

Bloom sighs. “But do you want that because you actually want me to leave or because you don’t want to be seen with me.”

“Oh, we can be seen together. Anytime you’d like to blast some spells at one another you can give me a call.” She slides a slip of paper across the table.

She hadn’t realized that the witch was so smooth. She supposes that Icy hadn’t amassed herself such a following way back when by stumbling over her words. “You just gave me your number.”

“Yes, so you can always be one phone call away from getting your ass kicked.” She looks so smug. “I’ve got plenty of new spells to test run.”

Bloom laughs again. But her smile fades. “You’re allowed to be in love, Icy. Darcy and Stormy are. Lucy is.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

She has no more ice cream left to distract herself with. “I-I can’t be with a fairy.” She looks away. It doesn’t really offer her anything but an illusion of dignity.

“Why not?” Bloom doesn’t think that she has ever seen the witch so flustered, almost timid. She doesn’t think that she will ever see it again.

“You said it yourself, witches are brutal.”

Bloom brushes strands of silver-blue hair out of her face and cups the witch’s cheek. It is cool to the touch. “Are you implying that you can’t destroy them all?” Bloom quirks a brow.

She clears her throat, “I can take on the entire student body and win.”

Now that sounds more like the witch she knows.

.oOo.

“Then do it.”

Icy frowns. “Peters…”

“What?”

“You should tread carefully.”

She smirks, “am I on thin ice?”

Again she wonders just why the hell she has to be in love with Bloom fucking Peters of all people. “Extremely.”

“I thought that you liked it when people tell you how powerful you are.”

“I do, yes.” She replies.

“So show everyone. You’re...you. You haven’t let anyone tell you what to do in the past…”

She thinks of Darkar and Valtor and begs to differ.

“So don’t let them tell you what to do--or not to do--now.” Bloom tucks the slip of paper into her pocket. “I can call you tonight and we can fight like usual or you can put on your best choker and we can have a nice dinner.”

And just like that she leaves. The clever little beast. Icy gathers her belongings and makes her way back to the dorm. It is empty this time. It is date night, she recalls. She is alone with the silence, the only sound comes from a rhythmically ticking grandfather clock.

She completes three classes worth of assignments and stretches out on her bed. Precisely when she gets nice and comfortable her phone rings. Peters. “This better be good, I was rather comfy.”

“Meet me at the Magix City green. I have both my dragon fire and a cute dress. Don’t tell me which your bringing, I like a surprise.” Before Icy can reply the line clicks. She is certain that Bloom knows exactly what decision will be made.

Against her better judgement, she fixes her choker around her neck.

#femslashfeb2021 #Winx #Winx Club #Winx Icy #Bloom Peters #Icy/Bloom #Fanfiction

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adarlingsnightmare · 5 years

Text

Chuuya Nakahara Yandere Alphabet

Anonymous said:

Sounds good! How about the alphabet for chuuya? :3c

accidentally posted this to my main blog after writing a huge apology for my lack of posting :/ i keep doing that unfortunately. anyways, ive had a full week exams which is why i havent been posting. im extremely tired and stressed but i will try to get more requests done this week, though i have another week of exams. i do apologise, but itll be over soon. i hope you enjoy anon, this short bastard is one of my favs. <3

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Chuuya would gladly smother you in endless kisses and cuddles, but if you tell him to back off, he'll stick to just having an arm around you (because god forbid he isn't touching you in one way or another). You'll often hear him whispering how much he absolutely adores you when he thinks you're asleep, and when you're visibly awake he'll be showering you in compliments.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Oh, Chuuya will undoubtedly do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if that results in bloody murder. He's in the mafia after all, what's a little blood on his hands, especially in the name of love?

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Chuuya would only mock you if you consistently failed to escape or were getting punished by him. Otherwise, he is generally loving and as romantic as possible. He will always make sure you're eating and sleeping properly, snapping at you if you refuse to eat as he gets awfully worried about you sometimes.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

No, not really. The only instances where something's against his darlings will is when he's punishing them. Other than that, it's mainly abduction and the lack of freedom to talk to people.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Chuuya confides in his darling, and will show a side of himself that no one else ever sees. He'll ask for advice on work matters and will constantly seek love and reassurance from his darling. While outwardly he may still appear tough and cocky, he's really soft for you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would be pretty irritated and though he'd never admit it, quite hurt. Why can't you just love him, goddamnit?! He'll try not to hurt you too much, but if you're not backing down he will use force to get you to stop.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Chuuya doesn't enjoy it in the slightest. His love for you isn't some 'game' and seeing you try to escape both infuriates and saddens him. All he truly wants is to be a happy, normal couple so your refusal to love him is not something he enjoys.

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Chuuya isn't always fully aware of how strong he actually is, especially when he uses Corruption and becomes out of control. This can lead to a terrifying situation where you're worried for your life as a monster in your boyfriend's body goes on a rampage and destroys everything around him. It rarely happens, as Chuuya really doesn't want to hurt you, but when it does it's a living nightmare.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Honestly, Chuuya doesn't really know what kind of future he wants for him and his darling, but ideally you two would move to some beautiful island — somewhere in the Caribbean, maybe? — get married, possibly start a family and live out the rest of your days in bliss.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Luckily, Chuuya isn't insanely possessive and doesn't lash out just because you looked at someone else, but he is paranoid. He has to keep you away from other people because, what if they attempt to hurt you? The only instance where he would genuinely become jealous is if Dazai was involved. This is when you'll see his full yandere side come out and it will be extreme: locking you up in highly secure room, restraining you, putting tracking devices in everything you own, anything to ensure your safety. If you were to show an interest in Dazai, whether platonic or even worse, romantic, his paranoia and jealousy would spike up tenfold — essentially guaranteeing you'll never see the light of day again.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Chuuya is generally really loving and calm towards his darling, still messing with them and lovingly calling them an idiot, but always so soft when speaking. However, if you were to be a brat, his rougher, more 'mafia' side would make an appearance— any soft words of reassurance thrown out the window.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

The 'traditional' way: flirting with you, taking you out on fancy dates and gifting you jewellery and flowers. He may seem smooth but he usually has to ask people (Kouyou) or the internet for advice on how to win someone's affections. He's also very observant to what you're interested in, so if you mention preferring movies to fancy dinners, that's where your next date will be.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Yes, but in a good way. Instead of being his 'tough executive' persona, when he's around you, he'll reveal a much sweeter and softer side of himself. He's also surprisingly affectionate, taking every opportunity to be as close to you as possible.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Chuuya doesn't generally plan out punishment, he tends to go into a fit of rage and attack you with whatever is nearest. Usually it results in you being choked, slammed repeatedly against the floor or him almost breaking your ribs with his foot. Once he's calmed down is when he will decide on a proper punishment, such as keeping you restrained to the bed, taking away certain privileges or maybe if you've really done something bad... a more permanent solution will be used.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

As long as his darling was relatively compliant, Chuuya's only real restriction would be the ability to go outside alone without the safety of his watchful eye. Of course, if you betrayed his trust, any hint of freedom you had previously would be stripped away.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Chuuya tries to be patient, he really does, but he's just so hotheaded that he often ends up snapping at his darling whenever they act up in the slightest.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

To put it simply: no. No one else can make Chuuya feel this way, and without his wonderful darling, he feels distanced from the world. It is likely he would continue working for the Port Mafia (unless they were involved in your escape/death), a mere shell of his former self only existing to serve the mafia rather than actually living.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Chuuya would feel a small amount of guilt if he had to kidnap you, but his belief that it's necessary for your protection would overrule the guilt. He would absolutely never let you go, you're like the anchor that keeps him human; he cannot lose you.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Like Dazai, Chuuya feels almost inhuman, like he is a foreigner in someone else's body, yet when he brushed hands with you, he felt something real. This is what drives him to get to know you: the desperation to be human. The more he spends time with you, the more this feeling increases — leading him to be unable to just allow you to leave him. Ironically, he becomes less human the more time he devotes to you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Chuuya really doesn't like seeing you upset, and it hurts his heart having to punish you when you're so upset, but some things are just a necessary evil. If you've done something he considers to be really bad, he will be apathetic to your tears, believing you deserve whatever you're suffering.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Unlike a lot of yanderes, Chuuya does respect your boundaries to a degree, and won't force you to do anything you really protest against (aside from letting you go, of course).

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Chuuya has to leave for work nearly everyday, so if you're smart and able to break locks, you have a fairly good chance of escaping. However, even if you do escape, Chuuya will find you again, and he won't take the betrayal lightly.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Chuuya has a pretty short temper, especially when it comes to the safety of his darling, so if you persistently tried to escape or "put yourself in danger" (interacting with Dazai, refusing food), he may snap. As stated previously, he doesn't enjoy your pain, but sometimes it's necessary to get you to listen.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Despite his sometimes arrogant nature, Chuuya sees his darling as on an entirely separate level to himself. He practically worships you, though he doesn't always like to show it (he's got to keep up his tough guy persona after all) and would gladly do anything you asked. His loyalty to you is even able to override his loyalty to the Port Mafia.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Chuuya would make an effort to woo you, buying you flowers and taking you out on fancy dinners, hoping that you'll end up wanting to be in a relationship with him. He'll vehemently deny being so desperate to be with you, but it's pretty obvious he's hopelessly in love. If you were to continuously reject his advances, he may eventually end up kidnapping you, but only if he thought you were in danger (or that another person was making a move on you).

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If he did end up breaking you, it wouldn't be intentional. All Chuuya wants is your unconditional love and affection, but he can get desperate if you're not showing it and will make you say how much you love him, even if you have to be put through hell to achieve it.

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cicada-bones · 4 years

Text

The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 14: The Assassin

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

That night Rowan lay awake, brooding.

He had been jerked from his usual nightmares, and could still feel the blood dripping from his fingers, see the faces of her killers, feel the heat on his skin of his home in flames. He wondered idly if the images would always weigh on him so, if he would never be free of them. He wondered if he even wanted to be.

Rowan sighed, shifting his thoughts away from such pointlessness. He had lost his mate, his life partner. He would always be searching, forever waiting for her to reappear, until he finally joined her in the Afterworld.

Instead, Rowan turned his thoughts to the questions the girl had thrown at him that afternoon. It had almost seemed as though she was skirting around the subject, avoiding asking about what really interested her. Not that he didn’t suspect what was really on her mind.

And this time, her curiosity hadn’t irritated him. Most of the questions she’d voiced aloud had revolved around the life of Fae. She had lived most of her life in ignorance of half of her heritage – of her very identity. Rowan didn’t fault her for wanting to understand her own family and history.

And the princess had made a deal with Maeve knowing even less about Fae than he had originally suspected. She had absolutely no idea who she made a bargain with, no idea what awaited her Doranelle. What she would likely be forced into when he took her there.

For now he had little doubt that the girl would eventually pass his tests, and he would be forced by the blood oath to abide by Maeve’s orders, and bring the girl to the city of rivers. But he was still unsure what Maeve would do upon their arrival, what she really wanted from the girl. The obvious answer was that she wanted her for her power, wanted to use her. Perhaps even wanted her to swear the blood oath, and join her warrior court.

But all of them had taken the oath willingly, regardless of their feelings about it now, and the Heir of Terrasen had no intention of becoming a weapon in his queen’s arsenal. She had her own agenda, her own questions for Maeve. Not that Rowan had any idea what those were.

Obviously, Maeve was planning something, and the princess would walk into Doranelle unprepared and unawares. And Rowan would be the one who took her there. For some reason, that didn’t sit well with him.

Rowan turned over, facing away from the stream of moonlight spreading across the bedcovers and instead turning to the blank stone wall of the small, cold room.

The fire he’d set before he’d fallen asleep had long since burned out, but he could still taste its embers in the air, a memory of the flicker of flames. So similar to the scent of the princess’ power.

Rowan swallowed. He could almost taste it – the girl’s blood in his mouth. Like an echo, or a pale remnant. Something twisted in his gut.

It had been strange, today, speaking to her without any animosity. To have some level of peace flow between them. The scent of her flames didn’t even disconcert him anymore.

Not that Rowan had any idea what the girl’s attitude was towards him. Earlier, he hadn’t cared, hadn’t thought of her beyond just an infuriating chore, a punishment he had to endure. But now she was a person, albeit an irritating one. And Rowan couldn’t help wondering what she thought.

He knew she didn’t understand the significance of biting in Fae culture, and at the time he hadn’t found it within himself to fully explain it to her. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to explain even now. He told himself it was nothing – she’d provoked him one to many times, he’d lost control of himself, and that was that.

Even so, the girl was an enigma. So much so that he couldn’t stop thinking about her – no matter how much he wanted to. She was a frustrating puzzle, one he couldn’t put down until it was solved.

He hadn’t considered it much before, but he’d never been able to speak with anyone in such a way either. It was almost like he could read the girl’s thoughts in her eyes. No matter how confusing she was, that part of her was simple. Easy. And Rowan trusted it implicitly – knew that he wasn’t seeing things, or misreading her.

It was strange, to have such a connection with the princess, when everything else was so confusing. Very strange.

Rowan turned over again, shutting out the faint moonlight and letting his thoughts settle back down into sleep. It was restless though, barely a doze, and permeated through with flickers of flame and blood and darkness.

···

Around mid-morning, Malakai interrupted Rowan’s usual pattern by knocking on his door, his face drawn tight with anxiety. Rowan just looked at him, waiting for the old male to speak.

“Prince.” Malakai swallowed. “I’ve just received notice that another body has been found.” Rowan’s jaw tightened, that familiar fury writhing in his gut.

“It wasn’t from the long-range scouts either. The report came from Bas, who just completed a foray into the west. His task was to make a circuit of the western flank, cutting a line through the southwest, along the coast, and then back up along the northern diagonal.”

Malakai paused momentarily, clenching his teeth at the words he had to deliver. “But then on his way back, he found the body of a demi-Fae female, half submerged in a stream on the edge of the pine forest, barely three miles from the sea.”

“Any discrepancies?”

“None that Bas could convey – but he hasn’t seen any of the other bodies in person, only heard tell of them from me or the other scouts. So it’s possible he didn’t know what to look for.”

Rowan grunted. “Has the body been identified?”

“No and once again, she hadn’t been reported missing. We have no idea who she was, where she came from, or why she was killed.” Malakai paused, then asked hesitantly, “Are you going to go view the site?”

Rowan nodded gruffly, his lips pursed, most of his attention focused inwards. Malakai inclined his head in return and left without another word, heading back towards the sentry station. Once the male was out of sight, Rowan cursed loudly.

A familiar guilt and shame had now joined the anger roiling in his stomach. He wasn't protecting the demi-Fae, wasn't preventing these deaths. He was failing, he would keep failing until he could solve this problem, could figure out whatever the hell he was missing…

He turned back to sit at the desk, grabbing a map of the western flank of the fortress. He knew the circuits made by the sentries, and could find the approximate location of the body without the Malakai’s help. He would wait until he visited the site before marking the exact location on the map however.

Rowan noted the date and time, then cursed violently again. It was too late for him to go visit the body before he had to collect the girl. He could either cancel training for the day, go that evening after leaving the girl alone for the night, or…he could take her with him. The site was just close enough for them to walk.

And, she had lived and worked in the assassin’s keep, among murderers and thieves. Been trained as a killer herself. While it irked him to resort to asking the girl for help, she wasn’t unintelligent. Perhaps she would have some useful insight. And it would give him a break from the endless sitting, the insufferable waiting for the shift that seemed like it would never come. Give them both a chance to do something actually productive with their afternoon.

Half an hour later, Rowan stood outside the kitchens, shifting his weight in irritation. She was late. He sighed, then moved to collect her from her rooms.

The girl’s door was open, and inside she was shrugging on her jacket and hastily pulling her golden hair into a loose braid. It was brighter, much shinier than when she’d first arrived at Mistward. Healthier. Probably from the consistent access to food and bathwater.

Rowan leaned against the doorframe. “You’re already late.”

She turned to face him, “There were extra dishes this morning,” she replied calmly, not reacting to the frustration in his voice. “Can I expect to do something useful with you today, or will it be more sitting and growling and glaring? Or will I just wind up chopping wood for hours on end?”

Rowan just turned and strode into the hall, the girl’s taunts unable to ruffle him. She followed soon after, her steps light and spirited, her fingers still tangling in the unfinished braid at her shoulder.

As they headed out of the fortress, her scent wafted over him as usual. But something about it seemed slightly different today, almost…cleaner. The lemon verbena was stronger, sharper, while the jasmine was more herbal. More like a salve, or a tea. Perfectly bittersweet. Also it was easier to smell Terrasen on her, easier to scent those tiny hints of biting wind, evergreen, and ice – of her throne.

The hostile scent she’d put out was gone, had ebbed away. Something had evidently shifted in the girl, an edge had been soothed.

And it showed in other ways, too: as they walked past a few off-duty sentries on their way out of the fortress, she looked them in the eye and smiled a greeting. They both flinched slightly in surprise, blinking, their nostrils flaring as they also took in the change.

Both males returned her grin, and they hesitated on the stairs beside them. Rowan had to lock his teeth together to prevent a growl. What was wrong with him today?

She just kept following him across the courtyard and past the front gates, without acknowledging the warm greeting given by the two males. However, her brow furrowed and her newly clean scent was polluted by the stink of confusion and irritation. Obviously, she didn’t understand the sudden change in behavior.

The smell of her whirling emotions only intensified as they walked, heading south and up into the mountains. So eventually Rowan said, “They’ve all been keeping their distance because of the scent you put out.”

“Excuse me?” She was practically indignant. Rowan was almost amused. The assassin really knew so little about the ways of the Fae.

“There are more males than females here – and they’re fairly isolated from the world. Haven’t you wondered why they haven’t approached you?”

“They stayed away because I…smell?” Her face burned a dull rose. Rowan suppressed a flicker of a grin.

“Your scent says that you don’t want to be approached. The males smell it more than the females, and have been staying the hell away. They don’t want their faces clawed off.”

Her mouth opened slightly, her eyes widening. It seemed she didn’t know how to react to that. Eventually, she said, “Good. I’m not interested in men- males.”

Rowan stared pointedly at the amethyst ring resting on one of her fingers. She never took it off - obviously, whoever had given the trinket to her mattered. She cared about him, longed for him. Unless he had misread the taste of the man in her blood.

So he couldn’t help but ask, “What happens if you become queen? Will you refuse a potential alliance through marriage?”

Her lips pursed, her breath huffing out. But Rowan didn’t think she was reacting to his dig at her lover – instead she seemed sensitive to his reference to her throne. To the idea of becoming queen. Aelin Galathynius still rejected the truth of her own identity.

She turned inwards, then shook herself back to reality. She almost rolled her eyes. Instead of taking his question honestly, the girl decided to treat it as a taunt, and responded only with, “Nice try.”

He smirked, letting the mood lighten. “You’re learning.”

“You get baited by me every now and then, too, you know.”

Rowan just looked at her slyly. I let you bait me, in case you haven’t noticed. I’m not some mortal fool.

There was a moment of silence, then, “Where the hell are we going today? We never head west.”

The grin vanished from his face, her words a stark reminder of what was awaiting them. “You want to do something useful. So here’s your chance.”

···

It wasn’t until after three in the afternoon that they finally reached the edge of the pine wood, the girl’s mortal pace slowing them to a crawl. He’d almost been ready to tear out his own hair.

As they grew closer, Rowan carefully tracked their path through the trees, marking every stone, stump, and fallen log. He could hear the crash of the sea against the surf and the cries of gulls overhead, while the scent of brine and fish wafted towards them from the west. Behind him, the girl’s booted feet crunched into the pine needles carpeting the forest floor. The wind began to whisper to him of trickling water, the pattering feet of small creatures, the scent of death and –

The dark shape of a body sending ripples in the stream ahead.

It was the same as all the others. The body of a demi-Fae female lay wedged between the rocks of a slow-moving creek, the running water not yet rotted her. The body was a dried husk, withered and desiccated and shrunken, protected from the force of the moving water.

The assassin swore violently, her scent flaring with fury and horror.

Even though Rowan had known what to expect, his reaction was much the same as the girl’s. Particularly as the foul stench began to bore into him, filling up his mouth and nose with its putrid, nauseating reek. It almost felt like it was pitting holes in his throat, like he was breathing acid.

The assassin moved closer, examining the body and the surrounding earth. The ground had been churned up, the brush broken and trampled. There were no wounds on the female, save for those trickles of dried blood from her mouth and ears. And just like the others, the demi-Fae’s face was twisted, contorted by terror and sorrow alike.

“What did this?” the girl asked, her voice soft and open with shock. Rowan knelt beside her, examining the remains more closely while the assassin turned to study the surrounding brush. “Why not just dump her in the sea? Leaving her in a stream seems idiotic. They left tracks, too – unless those are from whoever found her.”

“Malakai gave me the report this morning – and he and his men are trained not to leave tracks.” He strode into the water, continuing his examination. “But this scent…I’ll admit it’s different.”

Rowan’s jaw clenched tight. He could only barely contain his fury at the destroyed body. He didn’t want the girl’s questions, he wanted her experience. His eyes flashed to hers. “So you tell me, assassin. You wanted to be useful.”

She bristled slightly at his tone, but then sniffed. And winced violently. He honestly didn’t blame her. “You claimed you didn’t know what that thing in the barrow field was,” she responded through bated breath, “I think this is what it does.”

So the girl had made the connection as well, and with mortal senses to boot. Rowan inhaled deeply again, bracing his hands on his hips to drive away the nausea. He couldn’t ignore it any more – it was the dark creature from the barrow fields that was committing these killings. When they’d chanced upon it, all those weeks ago, the girl had only barely escaped with her life.

Rowan’s eyes scanned over her, remembering how she had looked after appearing from the black cloud. “You came out of that darkness looking as if someone had sucked the life from you. Your skin was a shade paler, your freckles gone.”

She hesitated, pursing her lips, then said, “It forced me to go through … memories. The worst kind.” Her eyes roved over the female’s terrified features. “Have you ever heard of a creature that can feed on such things? When I glimpsed it, I saw a man – a beautiful man, pale and dark-haired, with eyes of full black. He wasn’t human. I mean, he looked it, but his eyes – they weren’t human at all.”

Rowan grimaced at his own ignorance. “Even my queen doesn’t know every foul creature roaming these lands. If the skinwalkers are venturing down from the mountains, perhaps other things are, too.”

The girl turned towards the south, where they’d heard bells chiming only a few minute ago. “The townspeople might know something. Maybe they’ve seen it or heard rumors.”

He shook his head roughly, “We don’t have the time; you wasted daylight by coming here in your human form.” He couldn’t hide the frustration in his words. Perhaps foolishly, he’d hoped the assassin would’ve proven a greater help. “We have an hour before we head back. Make the most of it.”

They spent the next half hour or so following the faint scent trail left by the female through the underbrush, as there was no trace left of the creature. But it only led to the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea, with no easy path to the beach below nor any sign of recent habitation nearby. Perhaps the demi-Fae female could shift, and had appeared there. Either that or she had dropped from the sky.

Rowan stared out at the ocean, arms crossed, fury pulsing through him with each beat of his heart. “It doesn’t make sense,” he said, more to himself than to her. “This is the fourth body in the last few weeks – none of them reported missing.” He squatted on the sandy ground and drew a rough line in the dirt with a tattooed finger. The shape of Wendlyn’s coastline.

“They’ve been found here.” He marked each location of the body sites from as small dots in the dirt, all close to the coast. “We’re here,” he said, making another dot. He sat back on his heels as the assassin leaned over to peer at the crude map. “And yet you and I encountered the creature lurking amongst the barrow-wights here,” he added, and drew an X to mark the location of the barrow mounds, deep inland. “I haven’t seen any further signs of it remaining by the barrows, and the wights have returned to their usual habits.”

“Were the other bodies the same?”

“All were drained like this, with expressions of terror on their faces – not a hint of a wound, beyond dried blood at the nose and ears.”

“All dumped in the forest, not the sea?”

He nodded.

“But all within walking distance of the water.”

He nodded again.

“If it were a skilled, sentient killer, it would hide the bodies better. Or, again, use the sea.” She gazed off towards the ocean, the sun beginning to descend over the waves. “Or maybe it doesn’t care. Maybe it wants us to know what it’s doing. There were – there were times when I left bodies so that they’d be found by a certain person, or to send a type of message.” Her voice was tight and hesitant, restraining some deep emotion. “What do the victims have in common?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “We don’t even know their names or where they came from.” He rose and dusted his hands off. “We need to return to the fortress.”

She grabbed his elbow, and he had to restrain himself from swatting her hand away. “Wait. Have you seen enough of the body?”

He nodded slowly.

“Then we’ve got to bury her.”

He cocked his head. “The ground’s too hard here.”

She stalked out towards the forest, saying, “Then we’ll do it the ancient way.”

He followed her reluctantly, but within a few minutes they returned to the section of the stream where the demi-Fae female lay, slowly rotting under the pressure of the running water. The assassin heaved the body out from between the rocks and onto the dry bed of pine needles next to the crumpled undergrowth. Then she turned, collecting kindling and branches and pine needles and dumping them next to the body.

Though anger filled her scent, sharpening every line of her hard form, the girl knelt carefully beside the body, gently placing the gathered wood. Assembling a funeral pyre for the unknown female.

Rowan just watched, not saying anything at all as the Heir of Fire struggled to create a flame by hand, those iron bars within her never seeming colder, or more like a cage, than they did in that moment.

After a few strokes of her rudimentary flint, the pine needles began to smoke, and the branches caught, the flames leaping across the pyre to cradle the form of the dead female, a final embrace.

Aelin rose and moved away from the burning body, while Rowan stepped forwards to stand beside her. He called a wind towards them, feeding the slowly dancing flames with his power.

Aelin’s eyes were dark and hooded, her mouth set in a hard line. But she looked at the steadily burning body as if it held answers for her, as if it held punishment, or absolution. That, at least, Rowan understood. The grief, and the guilt that never went away, was always there, hidden just beneath. The assassin looked at the body as if it offered her the atonement she surely sought.

The two of them stood, the warrior and the assassin, holding a vigil for the dead demi-Fae until her body was nothing but ashes. The silence between them was heavy with fury and sorrow, but for the first time, those emotions were not directed at each other. Instead, the pair of them burned together, their shared anger itself a way to pay respect to the dead female.

A silent promise – your death will not be in vain. We will witness, and take your revenge. We will ensure that no others share your fate.

Rowan felt that promise echo in his bones as he lifted the ashes of the dead female on a swift wind, carrying them up and away, over the trees and towards the sea beyond.

···

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#WatE repost

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dewitty1 · 4 years

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He’s got fire for a heart, and I’m scared of burning

Samcgrath

Rating:Explicit

Archive Warning :No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Other(s)

Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom. Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Narcissa Black Malfoy

Additional Tags:, Auror Partners, chasing down dark wizards, and bickering all the way through, Angst, Jealousy, Pining, Loads of it, Denial of Feelings, And a happy ending, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating will go up, Slow Burn, this is not a case fic, i repeat not a case fic, it’s mostly just angst and pining

Language:English

Stats:

Published:2015-08-01 Completed:2016-04-04

Words:110855

Chapters:23/23

Summary:

Harry returns to England to help solve a particularly tricky case but nobody bothered to mention that he’d be working with Malfoy, who seems just as happy about it as Harry. In his absence, the wizarding world has changed in ways Harry’s having some trouble adjusting to while Malfoy struts around in his elegant robes and effortlessly charms everyone he lays eyes on. Months of grappling with his own feelings, trying to understand Draco’s, pining day in and day out - it can get a little tiring especially when Draco Malfoy is as infuriating as ever.

Excerpt:

“Draco?”

He whips his head around to find Harry standing in the doorway of the main room, and realization dawns rather quickly: Harry also looks like a patient at St. Mungo’s. Could it be that they’re both suffering for the same reasons?

Now that he’s here and standing in front of the man he wants more than anything else and anyone else, Draco can’t think of anything to say. It feels like every word has escaped his mind and all that remains is Harry.

Harry, who is looking at Draco with wide eyes that reflect so much pain Draco can’t believe he didn’t see it before. Harry, whose face is coloured with hopelessness that Draco put there. He can’t believe he’s been this blind.

“Harry.”

Green eyes widen behind smudged glasses as if Draco’s just told him everything he came here to say when he’s only said his name. They stand there in silence looking at each other, looking their fill to make up for the last week. Draco can’t believe that just looking at Harry can make him feel like this. Like he’s pardoned for every sin he’s ever committed and that he could die right this instant and be happy for the life he has lived.

“Did you really–what you said to the papers this morning, were you telling the truth?”

He stands there with bated breath as Harry nods at him, just a single nod as he moves to lean against the sofa. The air between them has shifted, has become even thicker now that they’re finally admitting things they should’ve ages ago.

“Were you–the man you said you had fallen for. Is it–could it be me?”

Harry just looks at him, his green eyes boring right through Draco and gods, he feels like a fool for ever thinking that Harry was playing him, for ever doubting that Harry was going through the same hell he was.

The sadness he sees reflected in those eyes is absolute, like he remembers seeing in his mother’s eyes when father was sentenced to Azkaban. Her blue eyes would swim just like this in a sea of unshed tears as she slowly lost her sanity.

He’s completely bowled away by the realization that he could drive Harry to insanity, that he has such an effect on Harry Potter.

While he’s coming to terms with it all and finally realizing what Harry’s been saying all along, the man in question finally moves. Draco can’t help but shake his head against the accusations his own brain is levelling at him: he loved you and you pushed him away, look how much you hurt him, you don’t deserve him, he deserves better…

(ღ˘⌣˘ღ)◍•̤*∗◌+*♡

#He's got fire for a heart and I'm scared of burning #Samcgrath #Drarry Squad #Drarry fic rec #fic rec #drarry fanfictions #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #Drarry! Auror Partners #Carey's bookmark fic recs #Carey's personal bookmarks #My recs

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dancingsparks · 5 years

Text

Crime Pays

So, because someone (cough, @urfavpendeja, cough) wouldn’t stop telling me about her new obsession with ‘Good Girls’, I wrote a Drarry Criminal au. As one does. I honestly don’t know what this is, but there is pining and tattoos and Draco smirknig an awful lot.

Thank you @fictional for the beta and the lovely comments!

Also on Ao3

Harry doesn’t usually do this. Honestly, he doesn’t. He was an upstanding citizen, well behaved, the worst thing on his record the time he ran away from the Dursleys when he was thirteen and some parking tickets. Both perfectly justified —his aunt and uncle wanted him gone as much as he wished to live with Ron and his family instead— and the tickets, well, they are more normal than not having them. Anyway, the point is Harry doesn’t usually spend his time with dangerous gang leaders.

He doesn’t know how it happened, exactly. He only needed money to pay for Teddy’s schooling (he totally would have given it back as soon as the Dursleys released the family money that was rightfully his). How was he to know that the gas station he robbed belonged to one of the more … unsavoury types. Draco Malfoy, to be specific, underworld crime boss, suspected of being involved in several of the biggest scandals of the last years even though not even a shred of evidence could be found against him, collector of Van Gogh paintings (originals, because apparently owning a mere copy is worse than owning nothing at all), always impeccably dressed in sly smiles and sleek suits, in command of hulking thugs that in deep growly voices informed Harry he now owed Malfoy a rather huge debt.

There was absolutely no way of knowing any of this, the entire affair a misunderstanding easily solved by Harry giving back the money he’d borrowed. Only, it’s not that easily solved. Harry didn’t calculate the interest he’d never agreed to in the first place, but also couldn’t pay to just have the whole thing done with. So, he negotiated for hours, pretty much agreeing to what Malfoy demanded from the beginning with only slight concessions for Harry’s sake. Malfoy smirking his oddly soft half-smile with every increasingly desperate offer Harry made.

Harry is by now well familiar with that smile (too familiar probably, doing his best to tease it out of Malfoy and thinking about it at random moments during the day, sometimes even the night). His new position as Malfoy’s personal errand boy (unfortunately a very accurate description, though Harry still hoped to get assigned a different title while working off his debt) meant he was closer to the man than he ever would have expected. Basically, it meant Harry was spending a lot of his time trailing after Malfoy and picking up weird tidbits of knowledge about him. Not that Harry’s actually interested in learning about Malfoy, his cruel captor, wielding his debt like a knife to his throat and as good as taking him hostage —as much as that was possible with Teddy depending on Harry— Malfoy was very understanding in that regard.

But while it’s somewhat of a mystery to Harry how he ended up here, he wouldn’t change it for the world. Life was infinitely more fascinating with Malfoy in it, watching him smile pleasantly as he delivered men to prison for crossing him, seeing his perfect composure slip just a little around the late hours of the night (early in the morning? When does it shift from one to the other?), trying hard not to stare too obviously at him. And yet the git was always catching him, smirking in what could be amusement or an invitation or both wrapped up in the most confusing seduction Harry has ever been part of.

That said a lot. Confused is what Harry does, from the first moment that he started to realise he was not only bi but also not equipped to handle attractive people, while also preserving even the least amount of dignity. Along the way Harry figured out how to not let that stop him, how to use blinding smiles and artfully tousled hair to charm people into anything he wanted, but Malfoy —possibly— flirting is on a whole new level.

There are the smiles, for one, always leaving Harry blushing and stammering, train of thought completely lost as his mind worked on adding that particular smile to the growing collection of memories. There are the soft touches, brushing his shoulder or standing too close, straightening his glasses or smoothing out wrinkles in his shirt, combing out tangles in his hair or collecting eye lashes from his cheek. Far too much casual touching to be an accident, especially considering Malfoy hardly touched anyone else, not even close to enough to satisfy Harry’s desire for the man.

The only reason he hasn't snapped yet, hasn’t allowed himself to touch Malfoy in return, to press him against a wall and muss up his perfectly coiffed hair, to taste those infuriating tempting lips and bite marks into the pale skin on his neck, to trace the tattoo he’s only ever caught glimpses of and yet haunt his dreams –

Harry forgot what he was going to say. That happened a lot when Malfoy was concerned. Harry gets distracted, attention caught on by the way Malfoy’s fingers painted pictures in the air while talking, how strands of hair fell into his eyes after long evenings of running his hands through it and — focus, Potter!

In his defence though, what else was he supposed to think when he walked in on Malfoy only wearing trousers and a loose shirt (not even shoes, standing barefoot and soft looking in his office)?

“Potter, why don’t you close that door behind yourself?” It’s not a suggestion, despite the vaguely questioning tone. Even if it were, how could Harry say no? He is completely entranced by how different Malfoy looked like this, more intimate and private than Harry had seen before, the armour discarded, revealing not only more skin but the person beneath the suit, actual flesh and blood. Harry wanted to reach out and touch more than ever, trace his sharp cheekbone, trail fingers down his neck and over his collarbones, along the — fully visible tattoo.

Harry’s thoughts grind to a halt, clinging to the idea, trying to comprehend the incredibly alluring picture Malfoy makes with a snake coiled around his neck, flowers woven between the scales as if they belong there. It goes farther down, the shirt not quite unbuttoned enough to reveal just how far that snake winds, but Harry fully intends to find out. There is only so much temptation he can endure.

Malfoy welcomes him with a smirk, giving himself willing and eager, as if he too is done waiting, never particularly patient and having shown remarkable restraint in limiting himself to teasing, leaving Harry to decide whether he wants this. Because as smart as he is, Draco can also be very dense. As if there is anything that could have kept Harry away.

Malfoy’s hair is soft in his hands, like silk as he cards his fingers through it, perfect to play with and grab, pull his head back and watch as his eyes grow darker. Harry starts slow, takes his time dropping kisses on Malfoy’s neck and tracing the lines of the winding snake, down and down with every scale and relishing in Malfoy’s soft skin, the way he squirms and curses and presses Harry closer with the hands in his hair.

Harry has no idea how he went so long staring at Malfoy, with his flashed smiles and equally flashing though more maddening tattoo, without touching him, exploring all the little mysteries about him. But now they are finally here, just the two of them, the only other people around knowing better than to interrupt them. This was definitely worth the wait.

#drarry #draco X harry #harry x draco #hp fanfic #my writing

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