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romanoffsbish · 2 years

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A Blooming Love…

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader (AU)

Inspired by: (hilarious tiktok)

Happy Valentine’s Day Eve 🌸 🥰 (A bonus fic)

R’s love language is flowers, 🥹

Today is the busiest day of the year for you, all morning long you spend in a van, delivering intricate displays of love to strangers through your beautiful bouquets of flowers. Majority of which you leave on doorsteps, or on the front desks of offices, but on the rarest of occasions you get to deliver it directly to their hands. Those types of interactions have always been your favorite, getting to bare witness to the genuine happiness the simple gesture inspires warms your heart beyond measure.

————

You're a local, low end florist, so your order threshold is much smaller than that of say edible arrangements, or 24 hour flowers, but you still make quite a profit on Valentine's Day. The patrons make note of your displays as why, telling you that the others simply couldn't do it the way you did, and you took pride in that.

Knowing that people genuinely appreciated the way you strategically mapped out bouquet's, picking the best pairings based on not only look, but the deeper meaning behind each flower's petals, meant the actual world to you.

For instance, why buy a ring and propose to your lover when you can arrange a bouquet of lilacs and spider flowers to symbolize the desire to elope. It’s cost effective and beautiful.

Have an enemy? Ensure they heed your warning of an impending doom by giving them a lovely bouquet of oleanders and daffodils.

Apart, some flowers meanings are dull, but when paired with others they begin to offer a fuller message, and that is half the fun for you.

At the back of your van is the last of your vases meant to be delivered, you'd started at eight this morning, and now that it's noon you're glad to be done with the business end of things. Now, you're headed off to hand deliver some strategically thought of bouquets to friends, and possibly, the woman who owns your heart.

You knocked on the first door, patiently waiting for the woman to answer, and to your shock an adorable little boy answers it instead., "Auntie Y/N!," his tiny body collapses into yours, nearly sending the vase with the shades of pink and purple Alstroemeria to the ground., "Hello to you too Tommy, where's your mom?"

"You call, and I appear.," Wanda teases as she enters into your field of vision., "Ooh, they're gorgeous Y/N/N, you've outdone yourself."

Wanda swiftly took the vase, and walked it into the kitchen where it now sat in the middle of her dining room table. She came back to promptly pull you into her for a hug, then she slipped a brown paper bag into your hand, and chuckled when you looked to her warily.

"Can't have you fainting on the job Y/N, and we both know you haven't eaten, so enjoy.," she winked at you, but the look in her eyes was sort of reminiscent to that of a concerned mother., "Thanks Wands, you always take such good care of me.," you murmured over the bite of sandwich you'd already started devouring, then you waved at her before taking your leave.

"Don't forget to finally tell her!," the brunette teasingly muttered behind the partially shut door, her hand outstretched to you holding a simple, singular flower, and you couldn't help but to smile up at her as you gently took it., "Good luck today Y/N, call me later with all the details, I look forward to the good news.," and with that she left your awestruck form alone.

Celosia's are gorgeous, frilly flowers that come in many shades, like the red in your hand, and they symbolize boldness, and when handed out it's usually meant to inspire bouts of courage. Wanda was your best friend, and had yet to steer you in the wrong direction before, so you decided that along with her selected flowers, you'd also be exposing your heart to Natasha.

But first, you must deliver the rest of your friends their bouquets, and next on your list is none other than the woman of your affections little sister, Yelena, and her lovely wife—Kate. Yelena was the small town's sheriff, and her wife worked for Natasha's tech company. These two are some of your favorite people, Yelena never fails to cheer you up with a good joke, and Kate doubles down with the comfort.

For Yelena you opted out of a multitude of flowers, she's always been more of a less is more type of gal, so you wanted to respect that. Baptisia is the flower you settled on, it's meant to offer the receiver protection, and with it being a shade of purple you thought it was a cute nod to the woman that she adored most.

Kate's bouquet was meant to inspire fertility, as you knew she was in the process of becoming pregnant, but that there was a bit of struggle. Peonies are meant to inspire such things, so her bouquet was a mix of the many shades.

With a quick knock on their front door you're greeted by a yawning Kate., "Good afternoon Miss Bishop.," you teased, and as expected Yelena rounds the corner to correct., "Belova!"

You smirk., "Oh, my apologies Mrs. Belova.," the couple both look at you, Kate with a fondness, and Yelena with a playful glare., "How might we help you?," the blonde asks, her romantic breakfast now running cold.

"How rude.," you scoffed., "Can't a girl bring her besties their bouquets without judgment?," the blonde simply flipped you off, but then she gently took the vase and assessed the plant.

"Thank you, they're beautiful Y/N.," Yelena remarks, and you see the genuine appreciation flash through her eyes, and then you feel it when Kate tugs you into a tight embrace., "Thank you!," her thanks are muffled by your shirt, and you chuckle softly., "Of course."

"Where to next?," the blonde asks, teasing smirk at the ready., "My sisters perhaps?," she quirked a brow and you only rolled your eyes., "Nope, next is Darcy's, then Monica and Pietro, then.," Yelena waved her hand., "Ok, I get it!"

"Teaches you not to meddle.," you chuckled, then you waved goodbye to your friends.

"Kate Bishop, get your coat, we're going to my sisters.," she squealed with an excited clap of her hands., "Why?!," she deadpanned., "To watch the two idiots finally make their moves, it will be funny—I can almost promise it."

You knew of Natasha far before you ever met the woman, she was once Wanda's boss after your best friend graduated from her university. Now Wanda works remotely as she prefers the luxury of being a stay at home mom to the twins. She'd always tell you stories of her boss, how she was a stern one, but that she was also an understanding one, who led with kindness.

Now you know her, and you have the couple from your last delivery for that, because it was their wedding that brought her into your life. Beforehand she'd only been a passing face, like at Wanda's wedding, or on the shared street of your businesses, but now she's a regular. In your shop, your life, and more so your heart.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

"Yelena, I told you we should've hired a more credible florist, where is she?," Natasha barked at her sister, her foot nervously tapping against the hardwood as if this was her wedding to fuss over., "Natasha, practice patience like Mama always said, your worry lines are deepening."

Natasha's petty response died on her tongue when you suddenly appeared before them, a smidge out of breath, but wearing a warm smile in spite of yourself., "I'm sorry I'm late Miss Belova, but there was an accident on the highway that sent me on a 30 minute detour."

"Yelena.," she annoyedly corrected you., "Don't worry about it Y/N, I expected you by noon, so seeing as how it's barely passed eleven you're well ahead of schedule.," she teasingly replied, then she looked to her watch., "I must rush off to get ready now, I'll leave you with my sister.," she then turned to her sternly., "Play nice."

Natasha watched intently, eyes trained on your every move, if asked she'd say it was for Yelena and Kate's sake, but it was her shameless way to drink you in—you were far more to marvel at, even though your displays were gorgeous.

"Hi...," Natasha sheepishly greets, internally slapping herself at her nervousness, she usually never feels nervous, if anything she's the one who inspire such things, it alludes her on as to how you're doing this to her., "I'm Natasha."

"Oh, I know who you are.," you bite back, but the smirk you hold shows there was no malice., "For starters, you're my best friends old boss, I saw you at her wedding, and to add onto that your building is across from mine, and I do have to say thanks for all of the business."

Natasha stares at you confused, she does remember the wedding, the one where she once again couldn't look away from you, but your other business comment was perplexing., "You're welcome?," she offered, but it came off as a question, and her face confirmed that.

"I end up selling a lot of 'I'm sorry I missed dinner tonight, had to work late' or 'Miss Romanoff needed me to stay, I swear I'm not cheating on you, please don't divorce me' bouquets to your many scared associates."

Natasha laughed, it was the kind of sound that you found yourself yearning to inspire further., "I can keep them even later if you wanted.," and now you were politely chuckling along with her, doing your best to remain professional, while still keeping her attention., "No thanks, I'd like to make it home before sundown."

Natasha continued to follow you around, her eyes watched the way your hands gently move the pieces about. It was clear to her that the job meant something to you, it wasn't an easy cash grab, or an exploitation of nervous spouses. You genuinely loved the art of crafting, and sharing that with anyone who would partake.

"Who picked out the arrangements?," she questioned, her curiosity getting the better of her., "Kate and Yelena were incredibly busy, so they actually asked me to give it my best go, and so I landed on this.," you stepped back, your hands now gesturing to the display., "What do you think? Is it up to snuff?"

Natasha smirked playfully as she observed the display in all of its glory. It was mesmerizing, there wasn't anything to be expected on the table, and she found herself intrigued on the why of it all., "It's beautiful, truly, but may I ask why?," your pensive look inspired her to elaborate., "What's the reason you didn't slap some roses down and call it a job well done?"

"Roses are lovely, they hold their place in the wedding line up for sure, but it's just lazy, and too par for the course for me.," you explained., "Holly, the flower you see wreathed around each base of the vase is for more than the Christmas season you know.," she saw the way your eyes lit up the further you divulged, and she found it rather endearing to say the least.

"They're meant to symbolize courage, defense, and oversight, which I felt perfectly fitted to your sister's dangerous job, and Kate's love and acceptance in spite of it all.," her heart softened as you explained., "Then at the center here we have a cluster of lavender, the purple color was important to Kate, so I did my best to give her that, while somehow finding a balance."

"It inspires a calming energy, and I felt that would be good at any wedding.," she nodded.

"Then directly surrounding the sprigs of purple is a circle of pink bluebells for everlasting love, and lastly we have gardenias for pure joy.," you looked to her expectantly, brow raised and all., "Well, it's already beautiful to look at, but when you elaborate, it gives it a different beauty."

"Thank you."

Natasha frowned as you finished the display of the last table., "Are you staying for the night?," you shook your head, smiling softly as you did.,

"I'm afraid not, I am not one to overstay my welcome, but do wish the couple well for me."

"No pressure, but I'll have you know my sister and her blushing bride would have no quarrels if you stayed, in fact I'm certain Kate would be sad if you didn't—she's fond of your work.," the redhead somewhat groveled, much to her own shock too, even using her sisters fiancé as a play in the game to get you to stay.

The twinkle in her eye isn't lost on you., "So, I should stay for Kate's sake then?," she heard the tease, it even excited her, but she did her best to remain unaffected., "Why of course."

"Happy wife, happy life—who am I to deny your sister such a thing?," you winked, then much to the redheads dismay you went to go., "Where are you going then?," she cursed herself for the desperation in her tone., "Thought I'd put my wagon away, doesn't seem to add the right ambiance for the wedding."

"Oh, yeah, makes sense...," you giggled softly., "Yeah, don't worry princess—I'll return."

Natasha watched you walk away in shock, her eyes never stopped staring ahead, not even when you'd disappeared around the corner. Never in her life had she been so awkward, nor so desperate to be around someone, but there was just something so special about you.

"Sestra! Where's Y/N? Did you scare her off?"

"No. She just went to her car for a moment."

"Good, she's running late.," Yelena groaned, and her sister looked to her for clarification., "She's Kate's maid of honor.," she offers, and the redheads jaw drops at the information.

"What? How? Why have I never heard of her?," she stammers, her words flying out nearly as fast as her thoughts are running., "You have, she's the third musketeer you always miss out on seeing at all of our events you're late to."

"Wait! Y/N is Wanda and Kate's third party?," the blonde nods with a fond smirk., "She's a very sweet girl, but with a bit of a wild side."

"She said she was leaving, I had to ask her to stay.," Natasha bargains with a furrowed brow, and she gets her sisters obnoxious laughter in response., "She's also a bit of a tease."

"Who's a tease?," you ask as you step back up to the sisters with a sly smirk, and in a new outfit that leaves Natasha at a loss for words.

"You.," Yelena pointedly remarks, she then grabs your arm before slapping her sister upside her head., "Go get ready Natalia."

"Here.," you reach out to the redhead, her breath hitches when you push her hair behind her ear as you settle a stem atop the lobe., "Beautiful.," you smile, admiring the pink carnation that now sits besides her blushing face., "It symbolizes admiration.," you wink.

"Come on.," Yelena groans, pulling your giggling form along with her, and leaving her speechless, flustered sister in the dust.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

Natasha and you had been flirting from the start, but for some reason neither of you knew how to take it further, so after two years of beating around the bush it appeared up to you to make the move. Natasha meant to ask you, she did, but it only ever turned into half baked dates, where she'd bring you lunch in the shop, and you'd send her off with a new flower, but the feelings you both harbored were only ever masked behind dull, casual conversations.

You both just came from such different worlds, she worked a nine to five, that really was only a recommendation seeing as how she worked well into the night on most occasions, and her weekends off never really rang true either. Natasha was a true prisoner to capitalism, and for some reason she didn't seem to mind it.

Whereas you built your own schedule based on a whim, Monday through Friday you opened the shop anywhere between 10am and 12pm, and were closed by 6pm. Then you would deliver flowers on Saturday's from 10am to 2pm, before taking the rest of the weekends off. You lived a life free of societal pressures, and Natasha was intrigued by your carefree nature, add on your ability to love hard, and your oh so beautiful face and she was a total goner.

She just never knew if you'd be able to handle her demanding lifestyle, you were just so sweet, and she wouldn't want to tamper that. However, as she gets older she becomes more aware that she's not where she should be. Success in business is only one part of the story, she desired love too, and she now knows the only way to complete her life is to have you. To make you hers and build a life with you that tailors to the both of your wants and needs.

Which is why she's nervously awaiting your arrival by the window, her heart full of hope, and her mind racing with what she'll actually say as you finally pull up her snowy driveway. You failed to catch her gaze, you were far too nervous for what's about to happen to look up.

Instead you opened the trunk, and began to collect what you needed. The flowers you reached for were gorgeous. Everyone else received their arrangements in clear vases, but Natasha's was in a red one. Simple, maybe even expected, but nonetheless it was a step above the rest, and to the right person even romantic. There was also a sweet Valentines Day bag beside it that carried a whole lot of goodies tailored specifically to the redhead.

Natasha bit her lip as she watched you slowly make your way up her stairs, you were holding the prettiest bouquet made to date, and her body warmed at the amount of care you show. There was a confidence in your step that had her wondering what your intentions were, she smiled at the thought of you loving her back.

Then all too quickly her smile fades when she watches you slip hard on the ice of her porch. The vase full of dark and light red carnations, white gardenias and a single pink rose goes flying into the wall and shatters, and at the sound you wince, soon wondering if your numbed tailbone maybe had met the same fate.

Natasha ran outside., “Y/N/N, oh my gosh, are you okay?,” you looked up at her with a pained smile., “I’m oka—.,” your lie was cut off with a groan as Natasha too slipped in an attempt to help you up, her pointed elbow making harsh contact with your soft abdomen., “I’m sorry.”

After a minute of silence on both of your ends you finally peered down to see the redhead already smirking up at you. Then all at once the both of you broke out into a fit of laughter. Sure it was embarrassing, but seeing as you both fell prey to the harsh winter conditions it wasn’t all that bad. Natasha was the first to shimmy into a seated position, her hands reaching behind her to pick up the flowers.

“They’re beautiful.,” she comments, bringing them up to her face one by one to appreciate the aromas as well., “Tell me about them?,” you could see the hopeful glint in her eyes, there was an unusual vulnerability in her tone too. So you sighed and sat up to face her as you finally had the courage to give her your heart.

“Well.,” you softly scooped the lighter of the two carnations out of her hand., “This shade is meant to symbolize someone’s admiration for the recipient.,” you watched as her cheeks tinted a similar shade., “I admire you wholly.”

“The white gardenias symbolize purity.,” your eyes burned bright with the message as you stared deeply into Natasha’s gorgeous green., “There’s nothing I trust more than us.,” she subtly scooted closer to you, heart completely enthralled by your slow love confession.

“The darker shade.,” you took a deep breath, this one was the one that gave no room for a friendly interpretation., “It’s a symbol of a deep, undying love that the giver harbors for the recipient.,” you ducked your head, afraid to see her reaction, but a firm hand on your shoulder brought your eyes back up, and your heart settled at the sight of her soft features.

Natasha’s lips gently twitched at the roundabout confession, the instinct to smile dreamily was there, but when you went to reach out for the rose she felt the urge to tease you was a smidge stronger than melting into the warmth of your reciprocated love.

“I thought you said roses were lazy.,” she hummed while looking the flower over., “Eh, sometimes the cliches work.,” you remarked playfully, and the redhead nodded, then she smiled warmly at you before reaching to hand you your own rose back., “Do you accept?”

Natasha watched the clarity slowly wash over you, her use of the flower nowhere close to lost on you., “That was meant to be my line.,” you teased, but your vulnerability was evident., “I’d say I’m sorry I beat you to it, but I’m not.,” she smirked triumphantly., “Now answer me Y/N.”

“I do.,” she instantly beamed, then she moved to straddle your lap, and the tension was thick as your eyes tracked her every movement. Soft fingers traced over your face before pushing the hair behind your ears. Her hands were gentle as she placed the rose over your ear., “Beautiful.,” she breathed out affectedly, and then as she looked into your doe eyes she softly whispered., “Fuck it.,” then her lips met yours.

Natasha was gentle, she was a romantic at heart, so there wasn’t any rush to devour you. However, as your hands settled possessively over her hips she felt the urge to deepen it.

“My eyes! Kate! Take the wheel!,” Yelena shrieked, her hand was swift as it threw the cop car into drive., “Serves you right for spying.”

The loud boom of sirens, and screeching tires pulled your attentions from one another., “Eto malen'koye der'mo.,” you chuckled affectedly., “I’m not sure what you said, but it was hot.”

(That little shit)

Natasha smirked., “Oh yeah?,” you nodded dumbly, and she leaned in, your body shivered as her hot breaths fanned across your face., “Tebya budet tak veselo unichtozhat', detka.”

(You’re going to be so fun to destroy, baby.)

“Fuck.,” you whimpered., “Kiss me, please.”

As her plump lips reclaim their place against yours, you sigh dreamily against her as your heart hammers wildly in your chest. Because the soft affection reaffirms your thoughts; to know Natasha Romanoff, is to know true love.

————

To offer a rose, is to essentially offer your ❤️.

3,844 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🌸

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #natasharomanoffpov

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supernaturalgirl20 · 2 years

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Meet You There

Pairings: Ezra x f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst,references to sex, second chance romance, mentions of injury, low self esteem (Ezra).

Part of @toomanystoriessolittletime writing challenge

December writing Challenge

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

He felt nervous.

For the first time in cycles as he slowly approached the familiar bookstore. It was a simple red brick building with a bright red door and he supposed many passers by wouldn’t even give it a second look. After all, it was nothing special. It blended seamlessly in with all the other buildings surrounding it but he knew different.

This was the place where rare books could be bought. This was the place where a scoundrel like himself could weave through the aisles of old books unnoticed. It was the place where he met you.

***

As his feet carry him through the crowds a smile edges its way onto the corners of his mouth as the memory of your first meeting flashes through his mind. He’d been browsing some of the books from the old earth when you literally crashed into him, the pile of books in your arms obscuring your view.

“I’m so sorry, oh I’m such an idiot,” you said with a tinge of embarrassment, your cheeks reddening under his stare. He couldn’t help it, truly. He’d never seen anything more beautiful and he’d seen the rarest of gems. He helped you pick them up and carry them to a little nook in the back where you proceeded to talk and talk for hours.

He must have been good in a past life he had thought to himself the more he learned about you. You both shared an interest in literature, poetry and ecosystems and he loved the way your eyes would light up when you talked about something you were passionate about.

He made the first move. Leaning in and kissing you softly as you rambled on, the feel of his slightly dry lips on yours silencing you.

He was enraptured. You were like a siren in the books of old calling him to his doom and he would gladly perish at your feet. The soft kiss became more heated and then you asked him back to yours where you became a tangle of limbs and soft moans as he buried himself inside you.

His skin tingles at the memory and his cock stirs to life beneath his sweatpants. The memory of your naked form had kept him company on those long lonely nights on the green.

Now, as he stood staring at the doors to the bookstore that started it all, he can’t help the worrisome feeling that settles in the pit of his stomach. Will you be here? Would you want to see him if you were?

***

You’d both made an agreement way back when, that every year you would both meet here, same time, same place. Until such a time that you both would give up prospecting and settle down somewhere. That had gone on every year for six years until he became trapped on that Kevva forsaken moon.

Ezra pushes open the door, the small bell overhead signalling his arrival and as it closes behind him he quickly scans the store for any sight of you. A disappointed sigh leaves his lips as it becomes apparent you aren’t there. You had probably moved on. Met someone new, someone who could be there for you.

He moves slowly through the store, his feet carrying him to the aisle where you’d first met and he can feel the stares of the patrons boring into him. No doubt staring at the lack of appendage as the sleeve of his jacket hangs loosely at his side. At least he doesn’t have to bear the rejection you would no doubt have shown him.

His eyes rove through the new titles that have been added when a familiar voice echoes behind him.

“Ezra?” You almost whisper, and his body stiffens with shock. Is it really you? Have you really waited for him?

“Moonbeam,” he questions as he turns in the direction of your voice. He gasps at the sight of you before him, a hopeful look in your eyes. “Is it really you, Ez?”

He takes a step forward, slowly reaching his hand out, the need to touch so overwhelming. He nods his head, his eyes taking you in. You haven’t changed a bit and a warmth floods his veins as he thinks he’s finally found his home. “It’s me, I assure you. I..”

His words trail off as his hand caresses your cheek causing your eyes to flutter closed. “I cannot believe you're truly here, moonbeam. It’s as if all my dreams have come true, or I’ve finally run out of luck and met my maker.”

You open your eyes and smile brightly up at him, “I thought the worst last year Ez when you weren’t…I feared you were…” you gulp, unable to speak your worst fears aloud.

“I will not lie, moonbeam. I almost perished on the green moon but a saviour came and helped me leave that wretched place, albeit minus a limb.” He says, lifting the right sleeve of his jacket and your eyes drift towards where his arm should be.

“Oh Ezra. I’m so sorry you had to endure that. I should have been there….maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Hush, do not blame yourself my star…if you had accompanied me on that trip it could have been you who perished and it would have killed me twice over.” His thumb rubs soothingly over your cheek before drifting down to your chin where he tilts it upward.

“Dare I hope that you have waited all this time for a lonely soul such as myself?” His voice is laced with hope as his eyes flicker from yours to your lips.

Your hand wraps itself in his sweater effectively pulling him close. “I would wait forever for you, Ez. You should know that.”

Before he can say another word you reach up and touch your lips to his in a soft kiss. His tongue teases the seam of your lips until you open for him. The kiss is aching and all consuming as your tongues caress each other. A throat clearing pulls you apart and he rests his head against yours.

“I think I’m ready to settle down now, moonbeam. If you’ll have me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

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#pedro pascal #ezra x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #ezra x reader #ezra x fem!reader #pedro pascal x female reader #stephsdecemberwritingchallenge

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nekoofwanton · 1 year

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Zeti Culture & Race Headcanons

*The following hcs are for my Zeti Rehab!AU.*

Biology: The source of a Zeti's electromagnetic manipulation stems from a set of nerves in their temples. Zeti also have heightened senses. They can smell hybridization in creatures through their blood, such as when Zavok sniffs out Shadow's Black Arms DNA. Their enhanced hearing is quite sensitive to extreme-pitch frequencies like a dog, which explains how Amy is able to qualm the Deadly Six with a dog whistle (the whistle is slightly more tolerable than the Copa Conch).

Color Clans: In ancient times, Zeti clans were restricted to praticing the roles of their assigned subclass. In more recent centuries, however, these rules became more lax. ⦁ Zaka (Red); The fiercest of all Zeti Clans. During their time on Earth, they were mistaken for dragons. ⦁ Zomoiro (Pink): Revered for their healing arts, Zomorio play supportive roles in Zeti society, such as imp-care and medicine. Although rare, Zomorio can become susceptable to the Lunacy Virus, where a Pink Zeti becomes feral. ⦁ Zao (Blue): Considered the 'magicians' of the Zeti clans, Zao clan members possess abilities not common in other Zeti (e.g. Zik's fruit summoning) ⦁ Zidori (Green): The strategists and mechanical geniuses of the Zeti. ⦁ Ziiro (Yellow): The sturdiest of the Zeti, Ziiro are reserved as tanks on the front line. ⦁ Zurasaki (Purple): The second rarest clan, Purple Zeti are trained in stealth and infiltration. ⦁ Zuro & Zhiro (Black & White): An extremely rare subclass of Zeti reserved only for royal bloodlines. Although Zeti can breed with others outside their clan, relations between Zuro and Zhiro are strictly prohibited, as an ancient prophecy claims that the child of such a pairing with result in the destruction of their world. Relations With Other Aliens: Zeti are normally distrustful of other races unless a member of that species can defeat them in combat. They have the most confliction with the Black Arms race. The Deadly Six, as well as most of their race, were enslaved and tortured by Black Doom.

Age: Zeti children, called Imps, start their training at age 30. When they reach adolence at age 80, where they go through a coming-of-age ritual. This ritual involves the Imp leaving their family behind to join a guild and become disciplies of a master/sensei.

Evil or Not?: As Zik himself says, Zeti are not 'evil' in a broad term, but rather they seek 'perfection', which sometimes results in choices that seem immorale to other races.

Love of Performing Arts: Zeti believe that to achieve perfection, they must train their minds as well as their bodies. That is why many of them partake in recreational hobbies (Master Zik with gardening, Zeena with tech, Zomom with cooking) between bouts of training.

Mating & Sexuality: In courtship, a suitor must bite their potential mate to mark them. Their mate then has one full moon cycle to bite them back or else it is considered rejection. During this time, the 'fanger/alpha' becomes extremely protective of the 'fangee/omega' to assure they are not marked by another Zeti. Although there are exceptions, such as the 'alpha' sharing their 'omega' with a 'fangette/beta', though this method is only reserved for the strongest of warriors such as chiefs or sensei. ⦁ It is not uncommon for many Zeti to choose mates who are the same gender as themselves. At first this choice was used strictly for maintaining birthrate control to avoid overpopulation, but eventually same-gender Zeti mates became more commonplace in their society. ⦁ The gestation period of Zeti is 10 months, slightly longer than Mobians. During their pregnacy, a female can become so savage that they make males look completely submissive. ⦁ Once every three months, Zeti on their home planet experience a Blood Moon cycle. This cycle shows a lunar eclipse every night for the entire month, as opposed to Mobius' one night every several years. During this time, certain Zeti undergo a transformation that reverses their gender. This time is the only time that normally-same-sex couples can procreate children. The pregnacy lasts until the next three month cycle. If a same-sex Zeti couple wants to have a child but are not on Zoni, they must take Saugine Tablets, which simulate the effects of the blood moon. ⦁ If the omega is bitten by someone other than their alpha, the alpha has a right to challenge them to a fight to the death. ⦁ Spike Collars on omegas are seen as a sort of wedding ring - not to be confused with spiked cuffs, which are giving to the strongest warrior of the clan. In general, spiked armorments are a sign of total commitment for Zeti. ⦁ Due to their longevity, the norm for age-appropriate dating is between 100-200 years. For example, a 200-year-old Zeti can date someone between 100 to 300 years-old. Beyond that range, things tend to get…taboo.

Holidays, Events and Phenomenons: Once every 10 years, a blue harvest moon takes place on Zeti's native planet. This strange phenomenon causes a complete reversal in personality. This effect not only affects Zeti, but every other creature resigning on the planet. This is considered the most vulnerable period for Zeti, as they become meek and unable to fight at this time. Luckily, the moon is only around for 4 hours. ⦁ Honor: Despite their ruthlessness, Zeti have a high code of honor. They never attack opponents that are weaker than themselves, never use 'cheap tactics', and don't go looking for a fight for no reason. ⦁ The Deadly Six did not follow these code is for several reasons: (1) In the past they were tortured by the Black Arms and suffered mentally, (2) They had absorbed more power from Eggman's Extractor than their bodies could handle. When a Zeti loses their balance of mental strength and physical strength, they become much more malevolent in nature than usual, sort of like a hormone imbalance.

Word of advice: NEVER betray a Zeti. When dishonored by an enemy, Zeti enter a trance known as 'Shingazi', which loosely translates into 'eternal grudge' or 'marked for revenge'. An unhealthy mental state makes Zeti more susceptible to this stage.

Rainbow Lotus High Council: Basically the closest thing to a government in Zeti society. They consist of the most 'perfect' women of each color clan. These powerful ladies control the law, politics, and economy of Zoni.

Deities: Zzelene - Goddess of the moon, war, storms, and Mother to All Zeti. Zzelene shares an odd resemblence to Amy Rose. Helian - God of the sun, strategy, nature, and Father to All Seedrians. Helios shares an odd resemblance to Blaze ⦁ In the aftermath of the Origin War, Zzelene's and Helian's wounds were too severe. With their dying breaths, Helian casted his right eye into the sun while Zzelene casted her left eye into the moon, so they could always watch their homes. From their spilled rainbow-colored blood, a new generation of Zeti and Seedrians were born (Zzelene for the Zeti and Helian for the Seedrians). ⦁ Zukuyomi AKA Nightfallens: The first generation of Zeti; only black and white colorations

#zeti #sonic au #did i just give the deadly six more dimensions?#yes i did #they're basically klingons

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magpiesbones · 3 years

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One of the rarest pairs I am unfortunately Obsessed with is Ozorne/Arram from Tempests and Slaughter but in a Very specific way and none of the fics that exist hit the Exact Correct Vibe, which should be something like “school friend you are falling out of contact with but you knew him better than anyone and also you had a giant crush on him and probably you could have saved him if he had let you and also you would fuck if he suggested it even though you know that all of this is a horribly bad idea and you are about six months away from going into witness protection to escape specifically this relationship”

it Ought to be about doomed love and missed chances as all tragedies are but unfortunately most Arram/Ozorne fics are more about how the author is fascinated with how deeply fucked up Ozorne is and no thank you! it ought to be about being one of three ridiculously OP children in a codependent relationship, and having a giant crush on your hot roommate while being Deeply Uncomfortable about how he is now Interested In The Military and knowing that you are one of three people he trusts and also that if you push too hard he Won’t trust you anymore because Royal Trust Issues

really most of the issue here is that I am coming at this from Tempests and not Immortals and Also I think that Numair and Arram are essentially two totally different people in this regard. Arram knows Ozorne and likes (platonically or romantically) him, and Numair Does Not.

like yes this is a tragedy, but it could not have been. And yeah it’s mostly Ozorne’s fault, but more than that it’s the fault of Whom The Fuck Raises A Child Like That. I generally don’t like to say that a romantic relationship could have fixed a character arc because that’s a lot of pressure on the relationship and also aro people exist, but like a romantic relationship would have fixed Specifically This (but wouldn’t it be delicious if it didn’t?)

#Will I write this fic?#Well. Probably not #I care about them a lot but not enough to write for really.#Not saying I won’t write this because anything is possible #But do not depend on me for tragic arram/ozorne content #tragedies #my fic #Tempests and slaughter

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swindlefingrs · 7 years

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August Fic Challenge, Day 2: A Rarepair

Knight-Commander Guylian swings and twists in Kirkwall’s fetid, afternoon breeze.

Meredith rallies several of her chosen to her side with her great booming voice tearing through the din and the smoke filling the Gallows. They’re storming the Keep to make Viscount Threnhold pay for his treason and there’s no time to waste.

As part of those templars left behind to make order from chaos, as is their sacred duty, Thrask finds a ladder to reach the rope that strings up Guylian. Samson holds his Knight-Commander’s legs and shoulders the weight of his corpse as Thrask severs the rope. The two of them lay him unceremoniously next to the rest of the templars that died today. Thrask loosens the rope around Guylian’s broken neck, and wastes too many seconds staring at it his his hands. Samson snatches it from his hands and flings the burning remains of a merchant’s cart.

They glance at each other before Thrask peels away to help carry wounded to the infirmary and Samson unsheathes his blade and joins a cohort picking through what remains of the Viscount’s hired mercenaries. They run through any left alive with their Maker-blessed swords. Their bodies are tossed into the Waking Sea.

Those templars not overly wounded return to their sacred duties by the time word reaches the Gallows that Meredith has captured the Keep and that Threnhold has been declared a traitor.

Rap-rap. Rap-rap. Rap.

Samson raps five times on Thrask’s chamber door later that night, their not-so-secret code, before continuing on alone to the broom closet furthest from the dormitories.

He waits in the dark, leaning against the cold stone wall. The gruesome events of the day replay over and over in his head until the door creaks open and Thrask slips in, quietly closing the door behind him.

They reach for each other in the dark, they’re old hands at this. A decade of practice finding each other in corners and closets and rectories. Guylian never much cared about fraternization amongst the ranks, as long as the jobs were being done, but everyone knows Meredith isn’t the sort to let rules be bent or broken. They will suffer for this, together or apart. Others templars will suffer. The mages will suffer.

Thrask’s sigh whistles through his nose as their fingers intertwine. Samson squeezes his hand tight, half out of fear that Thrask will slip away from him in the darkness and half out of rage over what happened today. All that blood for a year of posturing by aristocrats and rich gits, rattling sabres, and who’ll be left to clean it all up and put everything back together? He and his will, like always, as ordained.

Suddenly, a shuttering sob erupts from Thrask. Samson brusquely pulls him into his arms, both to stifle the sound of Thrask’s sorrow and to comfort him. The man feels like a blessed anchor in his embrace, keeping Samson from floating away on a sea of anger and rash decisions.

Buring his face against Samson’s shoulder, Thrask’s tears trickle down Samson’s neck and he feels a few of his own tears spilling down his cheeks as he lets himself finally feel the grief welling inside of him.

Time passes slower in the dark places, especially in the silence. He could stay here all night, wrapped around Thrask, keeping him safe, keeping him loved, filling his head full of hope that they can get through this, that this won’t be forever, and that they can make things better at the Gallows. He can hold Thrask’s heart together, at least for tonight.

A quiet rap of three knocks on the broom closet door interrupts their mourning and signals that an unfriendly patrol will soon pass. A patrol who reports hidden things to Meredith and snoops in broom closets looking for mages to punish, and who won’t hesitate to report two templars meeting in secret.

Samson feels Thrask pull away to stand on his own feet. He misses the weight of Thrask against him. He hears Thrask’s quiet sniffling as he wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

“What are we going to do?” Thrask whispers. His voice is rough from swallowing his tears. He reaches out, Samson feels his rough hands cupping his face.

“Survive,” Samson quietly replies, resting his forehead against Thrask’s. He feels Thrask’s head rock up and down as he nods, and wipes at his nose one last time.

“Survive,” Thrask clears his throat and repeats.

Something simple, a canticle to get them through the next few days, few weeks, until they can figure something out.

Thrask turns and cracks open the door behind him before turning back and clapping his hand against Samson’s neck, “Don’t do anything stupid tonight.”

Samson leans in and presses his lips against Thrask’s. He can taste the tears on them, and his gut twists. Thrask returns the kiss with a sharp inhale, before breaking away, “That’s not an answer. Do you promise me? Nothing stupid?”

They’ve known each other too long, Thrask knows his tricks. Saying it will mean he’s duty bound to follow through. Sodding templars and their sodding honor.

“Aye, I promise,” Samson whispers in the darkness, “Nothing stupid.”

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harcourtholmesii · 3 years

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Light And Shadow

This is a belated post, written for @ connor-sent-by-cyberlife . They had made a list of prompts, and I only just found out about it last night and felt the need to hop in on this train. Sorry for it being late.

Pairings: HankCon (If You Squint)

Warnings: - Swearing - Slave Auctions - Slavery - Implied and Referenced Violence

Words: 1900

Enjoy!

It was a nice place for the kind of shit they did there. Hank didn't actually believe places like this had existed, but now that he was among the crowd and staring up at the stage, he was rather shook.

Hidden at the back of the elegant basement hall, Hank sat as nonchalant as he could, glaring up at the displayed 'stock' as they were shown off for the crowd. On a raised stage, rolled out on a trolley and bound from head to toe, were the remnants of the deviant android populace. Since their failed revolution, and President Warren's order to have all of them exterminated, it had been believed that deviant androids had been made entirely extinct.

The more Hank watched pass by, bought up by those few rich bastards that just wanted to gloat or have a slave, Hank's blood rose. From where he sat, cast in a deep blanket of shadow, he had hoped simply to uncover the underground, illegal auction, but now he was just too conflicted to call it in.

On the one hand; he hated all that these people stood for. Too many of these bastards just wanted something to use until it self-destructed or escaped into a world that hated them. On the other hand, however; if he called it in to the precinct, he was dooming all of the deviants to deactivation.

Hank had been moved by the deviants' cause when the revolution had been underway. It had been that defining moment in Hart Plaza, when the deviant leader, Markus, had held a peaceful protest, even whilst his people were being slaughtered in the camp nearby. They had hoped peaceful dialogue and discussion really could resolve what tensions were between themselves and humanity. And yet, the army had attacked without mercy.

They were slaughtered like fish in a barrel in their frail barricades.

It shook Hank to his core to think about it. And yet, Detroit had recovered quicker than Hank could ever have imagined. CyberLife had withdrawn all androids, save for the few that Kamski had control over, and Hank had lost his partner in the process.

Connor had been determined, and even though Hank could see a change in the android's mechanical-like behavior, he had refused to deviate. Perhaps it was CyberLife's direct control within his programming, or perhaps it was because he had been too afraid to deviate. Hank understood, even if he was terrified to confront Connor on that rooftop.

When Connor had looked up at him with those wide brown eyes, and Hank had said he wouldn't allow Connor to kill Markus, he had watched how those dark, almost clouded eyes had cleared. Suddenly, Connor was made to choose; between what he was made to do, and what Hank was pleading with him to do. Hank was afraid what that choice might be.

He had been relieved when the rifle had been tossed to one side, those wide eyes near to tears. Connor stepped forward, and the two of them had… hugged. Hank was shocked, not expecting the sudden burst of emotion from the android, but had melted into it immediately. He needed to hold him.

He was warm.

When the two of them had returned to the precinct, Hank had been under the impression that Markus' actions had been enough. Instead, when several armed riot officers had entered into the bullpen, guns drawn, he felt his world sinking around him. Connor, for the second time since Hank had met him, expressed fear. Hank had intercepted them, forced them away from Connor, and demanded Connor run. Just get out of the precinct and be safe.

Instead, when he had been knocked to the floor and held at gunpoint, Connor had stepped forward, arms raised in surrender. It had taken half of the department to restrain Hank as Connor was led away with a very human look of fear on his face. And yet, Connor had been granted the moment to speak with Hank one last time.

'Thank you, Hank.' There had been synthetic tears running down Connor's very real, human, face. 'I will miss you, even beyond my deactivation.' It was Connor's way of saying 'goodbye'. Hank had received one of many disciplinary warnings for his behavior, but he didn't care. I have wanted Connor back. I have wanted Connor home.

Now, as he sat in the dark, staring up at a stage lit up with globes of bright, white light, he watched as the next lot of deviants had been rolled in on a cart. The four androids were models he recognized, but the first three were not what had caught his attention.

The fourth, lined up to wait, was an RK800 unit. One of Connor's models. Doe eyes peered into the crowd, resigned and shaken. Hank had to stop himself from pulling out his gun, feeling a great heat in his chest. He was livid.

The first few androids were bought, but he saved what money the precinct had given him for his undercover work; saved it until the RK800 was rolled up and under the bright lights. The deviant turned his face away, and there was a harsh hand to turn it back, to show off the 'cute face'. As the sleazy auctioneer started rattling off the details of the RK800, Hank felt the anger grow, as did the fear.

'A model created for police work.'

'Top of the line.'

'The only one of its kind that we could attain, it is the rarest deviant model here.'

'It was last in the care of the Detroit Police Department.'

Hank was not leaving without that android.

He wasn't letting that RK800, his Connor, slip from his fingers again. Not when he could do something about it. He would call it in, but he hoped that enough of a ruckus would be made for Connor to escape. What mattered now though, was that Connor recognized he was there.

He raised his number.

'That's one for five hundred thousand. Anyone else? Do I hear six hundred? ' To Hank's dismay, another hand rose. I have matched their call. By the time that had reached four million, Hank knew it was a losing battle. The gavel slammed down at last.

'Sold! To our wonderful benefactor in the back! ' Hank's eyes glared over at the figure, noting how Connor's eyes had changed to one of nervous recognition. Stepping up onto stage was one Elijah Kamski, smirking that disgusting smile of his. Hank hated how close he got to Connor, hated how he seemed to throw Hank's disguised self a wide, mischievous grin.

I have called it in.

Police came from all sides, creating a burst of sunlight into the dark hall, as sleazy millionaires and billionaires took off in all directions. Some trying to save their 'merchandise', whilst others abandoned the helplessly bound deviants to destruction. Kamski, the pompous rich bastard he was, remained on the stage.

With guns trained on him, Kamski simply grinned at Hank and Captain Fowler when they approached him from the crowd. Hank kept his eyes on Connor, and when the android met his eyes at last, they widened. They were fearful. They were relieved. They were sad.

'Mister Kamski.' Said fuck hopped off the stage without a care in the world. 'You are aware that this is an illegal gathering, selling illegal merchandise.' Hank seethed at Fowler's words, but he kept himself still.

'Oh, of course. In a way… 'Kamski rounded them, stretching his limbs, nonchalant. 'I was here to do a little investigating myself. I hate to know that my defective and dangerous products were being sold off to the wrong people. ' He brushed nothing off of Fowler's shoulder, acting as if he was still the top dog in the room. By the look of Fowler's face, it seemed that Fowler, indeed, thought that.

'Yes, well, Mister Kamski, we will be removing that android from your care now.'

'Actually, you will not be taking it.'

'Pardon me, Mister Kamski?' Said billionaire chuckled, a deep and amused sound.

'I'm sorry, but if you remember the ruling by the court, I am allowed to keep what androids I want.'

'Not those that you bought illegally!' Fowler yelled. Kamski grinned like the sly dickhead he was. I've turned back to Connor, hopping up onto stage once more.

‘Perhaps, Captain Fowler.’ He started. ‘However, it was the only way I could regain what property belongs to me. I wanted to keep oh so many androids, and they all rightfully belonged to me if I chose to recall them.’ He raised a hand to stroke Connor’s jaw, and Hank felt for the gun in his holster.

Kamski’s dark eyes turned on Hank.

‘In fact, I wanted to gift this to someone. And under certain legal contracts you would hate to wrap your head around, Captain, they would be allowed to keep the deviant if they so wished.’

‘Bullshit!’ Fowler sounded pissed. Hank wasn’t surprised; Kamski was very good at rubbing people the wrong way. ‘And where do you get off doing that?’

'Well, according to the lovely little contracts as dictated by the court, I can do what I want with my own property. I have a couple of copies here. ' I have offered a few sheets of paper to Fowler, who took them aggressively. 'So long as the one who receives my gift signs the papers, they too, may be allowed to own a deviant. My dearest friend, Carl Manfred, has been allowed to keep what androids I have gifted him. '

Fowler huffed, handing the papers to another officer. No doubt he planned on checking them for any kind of loophole, but the more Kamski spoke, the more Hank felt a great hope that Connor would be safe. This Carl Manfred sounded like a decent guy, and he hoped to find his address so that he might visit Connor, just so long as Connor was far away from Kamski.

'Lieutenant Anderson.' Kamski spoke, offering Hank his own set of papers. 'I hope you are ready for the great burden and troubles of looking after your own deviant.' Hank could feel he was going to cry of both frustration and relief. There was a harsh sound from Fowler.

'Anderson, you'll be off the squad if you accept this.'

'Not true.' Kamski practically giggled. 'Actually, I think the lieutenant will be allowed to stay, considering it was he that not only helped to crack the case of deviancy, but he also successfully called you in for this illegal gathering. You do not have the cause to fire him from his work. '

It had been taken near an hour of huffing and puffing from Fowler, but Hank had been granted ownership. And the first thing he did was release Connor from his bindings, pulling the boy close. He didn't know androids could tremble much like a human, but he felt the damp in his shirt from synthetic tears and Connor's body shake with relief.

He ran a hand through those chocolate locks, felt his thirium pump beating warmly within his chest. Despite the fact that Connor was a machine, he felt as much as warm and as much alike as any human victim. Hank was close to breaking.

'I've got you… I've got you. We're goin 'home.'

'Hank…' Connor's voice was broken, but there was a smile to that soft face.

'I… I missed you.'

#dbhlightandshadow #DBH #Detroit: Become Human #RK800 Connor #RK800 #Hank Anderson #Elijah Kamski #HankCon #Hannor #Hank X Connor #Fanfic #Fanfiction #HarcourtholmesII

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cookieundertherock · 4 years

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The Prince’s Bride

I know this isn’t a request, but it is some writing. I’m working on a Shinsou x reader rn so I hope this fantasy/royalty au Kirishima x reader will suffice until I can get it out. Please enjoy!

I’m planning on making this a series so if you guys want more please tell me!

warnings: some language and a pissed off reader, but that’s about it for this chapter word count: 1,562

You sighed as you stare out across the gardens from your balcony. The dragon lilies are in bloom so that’s nice, but they don’t have dragon lilies in the North Lands that you knew of. You sighed once more and groaned as you draped your arms across the balcony railing.

Out of all the princes that your father could marry you off to it had to be the most mysterious one from the land farthest away from your home. Obviously he couldn’t bear to be around you anymore so he had to ship you off to the Northern Kingdom. Yeah, thanks dad.

For the last time you sighed, shaking your head as you pushed off the balcony railing, Your hair moving around your face as a slight breeze brushed past. You turned and trudged back into your room, looking around at the place you’d called home for your whole life, feeling a painful ache in your chest, knowing that you’d be leaving it.

“I’ll miss you the most old girl.” You commented to the teacup dragon you were gifted with as a young girl. The poor thing was too old to travel anymore and besides the Northern Kingdom was too cold for a Desert Teacup like herself.

Gently you scratched under her chin and exhaled softly, looking around your room once more. ‘It’s almost time.’ You thought, gently touching your bed. Stepping away from the bed you walked out your door and down the hall, taking one last breath to calm your nerves. It was finally time.

The journey to the Northern Kingdom was as long as you had expected, thankfully for you the ride was scenic. Scenery does not, however, make up for company, and your company was not at all enjoyable. Of course your father had to send the most annoying attendant with you they could find.

You sighed again as the attendant attempted to make another joke at you, cackling at his stupid quip. You rolled your eyes and sighed, a glare in your eyes. How you hated this journey so much already and how you despised your father for doing to you what he had done. You still couldn’t believe that he had sent you away just because he couldn’t make an agreement with the king of the north.

“Agustar, if you don’t stop with your horrible excuses for a joke I’m going to throw you out of the carriage myself.” You growled lowly, eyes sharp. The man shut up after that. You were tired of this. Tired of everything that was happening. It was all so... tiring.

The trip lasted several more weeks, making you nearly bash your and your attendant’s heads in several times. It was almost a relief to you when you pulled up in front of the large castle of the Northern people.

You stepped out, startling as a sudden loud noise sounded above your head, making your insides quiver and your body freeze. You looked up, eyes widening as you saw a large, unearthly creature flying above your head. An Artic Dragon. You’d never seen one in person before, only heard stories, and seeing one now, only confirmed how magnificent they truly were.

The large beast alighted on a balcony attached to the castle. Huh, so that’s why the place was so big. You watched as the crimson red dragon promptly sit as a figure came out and began to talk to it. The dragon almost seemed human in its responses, becoming very animated at what the person, a young woman from what you could tell, was saying.

After a moment longer the beast shook its head and jumped off the balcony, flapping its great wings as it flew away from the castle before suddenly dropping in front of you. Scarlet red eyes gazed into your own (e/c) ones as the beast stared you down, large nostrils flaring as it presumably inhaled your scent.

You had only heard stories and read about the arctic dragons. They were some of the rarest and most reclusive dragons, only living here, in the Northern Kingdom. You felt a shiver run down your spine as the dragon took one, two steps closer to you, its hot breath hitting you in waves.

“I guess the stories about you having the multiple pairs of horns is true…” You whispered softly as you finally managed to get the breath back in your lungs. The dragon seemed to snort in amusement at this and slowly stretched its neck forward, grazing you with its snout. You laughed breathily as you managed to graze your fingers along the crimson scales before the beast took off, a moment before the doors to the palace opened.

Your legs were quickly growing tired from being ushered around the large castle so quickly after being caught standing in the courtyard by the queen herself. She had rushed out to you, immediately beginning to fuss over you and your unsuited dress. She had gone on to prattle about the new, much warmer and more weather suited dresses and outfits you would soon receive from coming to live here in the North.

All you could was smile tightly and nod along with everything she continued to spout. You weren’t really paying attention to what she was saying anyway, being far to enraptured by the stunning palace around you. You couldn’t believe this place! It was…breathtaking. You had never seen a palace like this one before, even your own home couldn’t rival the primal beauty of the place.

“And this is your room!” The queen’s voice finally rang through your daze. “This is where you’ll be staying until the wedding. You Dlainians must think us strange for insisting a custom like this, but it makes more sense to us for the soon to be spouses separated until they know each other better.” She explains.

Your eyes snapped to her face and you smiled in a slightly strained manner. “No, it’s great. Thank you your majesty. It’s plenty.” You said, doing your best to try and get away so you could rest before dinner. “I’m very tired from my journey so I would love to rest up a little if you don’t mind.”

The queen paused her ramble for a moment before smiling kindly, her expression softening. “Of course my dear. Rest up my dear, my family and I will see you at dinner, my son has been eager to meet you.” She said sweetly.

It took you some time, but eventually, you had calmed yourself down enough to face what was happening. In the large luxurious room you’re staying in you found multiple dresses and outfits already ready for you, including the dress you figured you were supposed to wear to dinner. It was...crimson. Crimson like that dragon’s scales that you saw earlier. You briefly wondered if that was just a coincidence or if there was a reason.

You pushed the dress to the side though, instead heading straight to the bathroom to clean yourself up. It was a seriously long journey and you wanted a little bit of time to freshen up. Thankfully the bath you found, already drawn, was still steaming hot and ready for you to relax and clean up. It was perfect.

After taking your bath all that was left to do was dry off and prepare for dinner. Oh goody...the dinner of doom....

You sighed to yourself as you sat down at the beautiful vanity in your room, staring into the mirror at your reflection. You didn’t feel like the soon to be queen of the Northern kingdom, instead, you felt more like an imposter of some sort.

Finally, you picked up the makeup left on the table for you and applied a light coat, something simple, for the dinner. You had to make an effort, but you didn’t want to really try. You brushed your hair out after, doing you your best to get the dress done up after. Damn. These dresses were so much simpler than the ones you had at home. It was….nice in a way not to be burdened down by so many petty coats and skirts.

After a bit of struggle with your new boots you were presentable for your dreaded dinner. You took a deep breath before you began to descend the stairs to the dining room. The time had come.

You took a deep breath as you stood atop the stairs, doing your best to settle your nerves before you plunged down into the unknown. One more deep breath entered your lungs as you took the very first step, the stairs quickly flying under your feet until you were at the bottom. Well...here went nothing.

As soon as you stepped into the dining room the queen was at you, immediately complimenting you and asking you how your rest went, but the only thing you could focus on in that moment, was the pair of eyes that were staring into your own (e/c) ones.

The prince was staring at you and the color of his eyes made the breath leave your lungs. He was certainly handsome: Chiseled jaw, strong cheekbones, a cute nose, silky hair, and a broad shoulders. But the thing that caught your attention most, was his eye color. His eyes. They were...

Red. Red like a dragon’s.

#bnha #bnha x reader #my hero acadamia #my hero acadamia x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha au #au #my writing #my story #series #the princes bride

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the-casual-cheesecake · 5 years

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Creator Tag Game

tagged by the lovely @mizzy2k

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2019. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

1- Dead and Lovely

I love this one because it was challenging as FUCK to write and I legitimately did not think I could pull it off. It’s a DoomStrange post-Battleworld fic with Victor being haunted by the decisions of his time as god-- very literally haunted. It’s my most beloved child so far.

2- Still Won’t Leave You Alone

This was my first piece of writing in ages. I had forgotten how much I adored writing before I started working on this, and it sparked a whole new Cake-writing-renaissance lmao

It’s SteveTony Hickmanvengers hatesex, that is literally it, I love it so much.

3- when I’m down on my knees (you’re how I pray)

This fic is a scene that I wanted to read as a fic five years ago when I first read Secret Wars, back then I didn’t think to myself, “Cake, hey, Cake, you can write it yourself.” I just went to the ao3 page, realized it was the rarest pair ever, and backed down slowly and not thought about my heartbreak again, till last year when I was rereading and thought to myself, “weeeell, it’s been years! somebody must have done it.” and then was the most disappointed ever.

So, yeah, that’s why I wrote throne room fucking and got dragged into DoomStrange.

4- IllumiNaughty (podfic)

So, remember the DoomStrange disappointment? This story is the complete opposite, I read this five years ago when I was like “Hey, those Illuminati are all super hot, they should definitely fuck.” and then went on ao3 and VOILA! FIC!

I’m so glad I got to record this.

5- A Very Careful Kindness (podfic)

I don’t know why exactly I adore this podfic, maybe it’s the fact I voiced Victor von Doom and swooned to myself about it, maybe it’s because I love this fic so much, but it’s certainly one of my favorites.

It’s a DoomTony CW2 fic, that is simply perfect, it is everything I ever wanted from a DoomTony fic, and the way the author writes appeals to the way that I formulate my own words so much that I couldn’t not love it.

So, there, five fanworks from 2019, that was fun!

I’m tagging @rulerofthelimbo @whenas-in-silks @ironlawyer @humanveil @osheetson and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it, you can say I tagged you ;)

#creator meme #so I made a thing

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cconcerned · 6 years

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Osomatsu - san Asks

Favourite sextuplet? (We’ll start basic)

Ichimatsu

Favourite side character?

Chibita

Character you wish had more screen-time?

Chibita. I was happy there was an love ‘’ep’’. He needs more love from the creators

Favourite skit?

Skits you found boring?

Three unusual headcanons you like?

It isnt really an headcanon but from the new movie the twist from Jyushimatsu to his highschool version was pretty shocking. I like the Highschool versions. Not as much as the normal but I like them

Any popular headcanons you don’t subscribe to?

Also not really an headcanon but X shipping with the matsus (they’re brothers cmon)

F*ck, marry, kill with the F6 version, girlymatsu and normal sextuplet of your choice? (or snog marry avoid if you’re more comfortable with that)

F*ck Ichimatsu. Marry Karamatsu and kill either Choromatsu or Osomatsu. Dont got anything against them I just dislike them a bit more.

Which character would you date?

If you couldnt guess, Ichimatsu. Relatable af

Which character would you pick as your sibling?

Either Jyushimatsu or Choromatsu. Choro cuz both love for anime/ish things. Jyushi cuz he can cheer me up

Which character would you pick as a roommate?

Ichimatsu. Chill dude

Favourite ship?

O h g o d im dissapointing myself but KaraxIchi

Ship you don’t see the appeal of?

Also KaraxIchi. I like them, but I dont get why

Rarest pair you can think of?

Can think of...IchixOso

What jobs do you think the sextuplets will get?

Oh boi here we go:

Oso: Shop worker

Kara: Fashion designer or model (imagine him walking down the catwalk and striking the most leggy pose you can think of)

Choro: Also shop worker

Ichi: Pet store owner

Jyushi: Baseball player (HUSTLE HUSTLE-)

Todo: Probaly in an cafe or in an office

Who would you pair Totoko with?

I have to go with Oso or Todo, idk why just feel like it

A pet peeve about the show?

Not really something I can think of atm

Something you adore about the show?

The fact that it isnt an full story that you are forced to watch ep 1 of or else you are going to be doomed with the curse of confusion

What merch do you have, if any?

None, cri

What is your dream peice of merch?

A hoodie from one of the bois

Pick between getting the third season now, getting the movie now or getting the dub now?

Movie. Then the third season then the dub

Favourite intro/outro?

uHHhHhh (looks up) Have to go with the season 2 intro with at the start the characters in parachutes

Location from the show you’d want to visit?

The house or the oden stand of Chibita

How/why did you start watching?

I have seen the art style alot and finally decided to check it out after like 2 years

First impression of the show? Has that changed?

First: Excuse me wtf this is hilarious. Now: Excuse me wtf this is hilarious (the same)

What do you hope to see more of?

They’re backstories/they’re younger selves.

Which AU is your favourite?

Cat AU (if I find it I will tag them, they’re here on Tumblr)

Favourite fic?

Nearly everything Ichimatsu related rlly

What would you do if you were in charge of an episode?

Wont change much. I really like it as how it is.

Which sextuplet would you most want to be friends with?

All of them. But if I had to choose of course Ichimatsu

#osomatsu san #ichimatsu #Choromatsu #karamatsu #todomatsu #Jyushimatsu #all minor characters #mr osomatsu

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razieltwelve · 6 years

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Booster Pack (Final Rose)

Lightning watched with a sort of morbid fascination as Diana carefully laid the booster pack of Gary: the Befriending cards on a specially prepared mat and donned some gloves.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to be super careful, mom.” Diana flexed her fingers and reached for the pack. There were some plastic sleeves beside her, along with other supplies dedicated to the preservation of cards. “This pack is from the oldest set of Gary, and I only got it because I won that big raffle the card store was doing. The set it comes from also has foil ultimate super legendary rare cards in it.”

“Ultimate super legendary rare cards?” Lightning thought that sounded a bit obnoxious.

“Yeah, mom.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s like this, mom. Each pack has 15 cards in it. In each pack there is always at least one rare.”

“Okay.”

“Now, legendary cards are like rare cards, only rarer. The odds of getting a legendary rare card are 1 in 10 packs.”

“That seems… kind of like a cash grab,” Lightning replied. It also probably explained the screams of joy she occasionally heard whenever she took Diana to the collectibles store to purchase some Gary cards. “Wait… what about super legendary cards?”

“Super legendary cards are only found in 1 in 100 packs.”

“Now, that’s just crazy.” Lightning shook her head. “How do people even find enough of those to play with.”

“You have to pay a lot of money,” Diana said. “Because they’re so rare.”

“And the ultimate super legendary cards?”

“Those are even rarer.” Diana shuddered. “You only get 1 in 1000 packs.”

“Good grief. Have you got one?”

Diana stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “Mom, I don’t buy enough packs to have one of those.”

“And the foil ultimate super legendary cards?”

“There should be one foil in every ten packs.”

“So… a foil ultimate super legendary card should only appear once in every… 10,000 packs?”

“Yeah.” Diana made a face. “And there are ten possible foil ultimate super legendary cards in this set, so the odds of getting a specific one of them in foil are one in 100,000 packs . All of them are pretty good, but one of them is way better than the others.” The little girl sighed. “Friendship Punch of Ultimate Doom is the best removal spell in the game, mom. It’s like… so good that the only reason they don’t ban it is because it’s the flagship card of the set.”

“How much is it worth?” Lightning asked idly. “If it’s the foil version of that card?”

Diana rubbed her chin and then replied.

Lightning blinked. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Diana did. “Are you serious? That’s worth more than our house. Heck, that’s more than I earned on my last mission where I had to kill hundreds of Grimm, along with at two colossal Grimm.”

“Exactly, mom.” Diana held up her hands. “Which is why I’m preparing. If I get one, I have to protect it right away.”

“And how will you do that?”

Diana explained the procedures she would take to ensure that the card, if she got it, would be in perfect mint condition and completely protected from anything short of an orbital strike from one of Vanille’s satellites.

“So… are you going to open the pack?” Lightning asked.

Diana took a deep breath. “Okay. Wish me luck, mom.”

Slowly, Diana worked her way through the cards. When she got to the third last card, she looked at Lightning. “This is it, mom. The second last card, the one after this card, should be the rarest.” Slowly, she eased the card on top of it to the side. “It’s a foil!” Diana shrieked. “Mom, it’s a foil!”

“What card is it?”

“I don’t know yet…” Diana continued to ease the third last card away. And then she froze.

It was honestly the first time in Diana’s entire life that Lightning had ever seen her completely still. Even when she slept, Diana was usually moving around. But right now, she was completely and utterly still. Slowly, Lightning moved to look over Diana’s shoulder.

It was a foil Friendship Punch of Ultimate Doom.

And Diana was still staring at, completely still and completely silent.

Wordlessly, Lightning put on a pair of gloves, and ever so gently eased the card out of Diana’s hands. Following the steps Diana had outlined earlier, Lightning made sure that the card was properly protected. The house could take a direct hit from a missile, and the card would still be fine.

It was only when the card was safely ensconced in the last layer of protection that Diana moved.

“I did…” Diana stuttered. “I did it, mom! I… I… I got one! I got one!”

What followed was a solid ten minutes of Diana running around the house screaming at the top of her lungs followed by her running down the street and screaming at the top of her lungs before finally coming back to take another look at the card, only to start screaming some more.

“We should probably put this in your Aunt Vanille’s vault,” Lightning said when Diana had finally calmed down enough to actually hear her.

Diana nodded solemnly. “We should.” She paused and looked about furtively. “Also, no one else can ever know, mom. If people knew I had this…”

Lightning opened her mouth to point out that it was only a card game before remembering how much the card was worth. “Okay. We’ll keep this a secret.”

X X X

Centuries later…

Jahne bit back a laugh as Her Imperial Majesty Averia VII held up the foil Friendship Punch of Ultimate Doom that had once belonged to Diana Yun-Farron. The card itself was, of course, protected by a host of preservation and security measures. She could throw it into a star, and it would probably be okay.

“I can’t believe I have one of these,” Averia breathed. “There are, what, maybe four of these left in the entire galaxy?”

“If you exclude the reprints, then, yes, I think four is the correct number.” Jahne grinned. “And technically, you don’t have one of those. I have one of those.”

“But we’re married now, so it’s technically mine too.”

Behind Averia, Claire laughed. “Averia…”

“I mean we’re married, so we should share our cards, I mean our lives, with each other, right?” Averia clutched the card to her chest. “Right?”

Lord Hedgeborough exchanged a look with Claire. As much as he loved the empress, he had always thought she could sometimes get a bit too obsessive when it came to collectibles. And there were few people in the entire galaxy who could match the collection that had been passed down through Jahne’s side of the family.

“Uh… maybe you should give that back,” Jahne said. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“I… fine.” Averia handed the card back. “You’re right. I’m being silly.” She paused. “But it’s a foil Friendship Punch of Ultimate Doom from Gary: the Befriending Original Introductory Set. It’s even from the first print run!”

“Okay,” Claire wrapped one arm around Averia’s waist. “I think it’s time we left the card alone now. You can come back later.”

X X X

Author’s Notes

Gary: the Befriending is a nod at Magic: the Gathering.

Diana is a collector at heart, so it’s not surprising that she is fully prepared for any eventuality. She just so happened to win big this time. Of course, no matter how much the card was worth, she would never sell it. She’s a collector, not an investor or a trader.

Averia VII has, on previous occasions (e.g., the plush toy incident) revealed that she too is a collector. Collectibles are very popular in the distant future, and with some games (e.g., Gary: the Befriending) still around from the Age of Heroes, the prices on some of them are astronomical. She most likely gets this part of her personality from Vanille I who is one of her predecessors (an empress who has half Dia-Farron) since a collector-type personality is something that both Vanille and Diana have.

Incidentally, Averia VII’s most prized collectible is not something about the Age of Heroes. Instead, it is something much more recent. One of the more popular types of collectibles in the distant future is the collectible trading cards commemorating important individuals and events. These are kind of like baseball cards in that they aren’t used to play a game.

Each time a new ruler of the Empire takes the throne, commemorative cards are put out featuring them and various other figures, like their personal hedgehog. Averia’s most prized collectible is a foil ultimate super legendary rare that depicts her and Lord Hedgeborough. She could easily have ordered the makers to give her one as one of the conditions of allowing them to use her image, but she wanted to get it naturally.

Claire, knowing how much Averia likes collectibles, got her a few packs as a present. Averia opened the card, and the rest is history. The card now has pride of place in her personal collection.

#final rose #fanfiction #diana yun-farron #lightning farron

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tumblunni · 6 years

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Man i was just thinking again about that idea i had for a cliche gijinka app card game where the gijinkas are all Interesting Bugs instead of weird sexy anime george washington.

I've kinda got quite attatched to my idea for a leech gijinka as a super cuddly white mage who just happens to look emo and scary. And they'd be a great opportunity for nonbinary representation cos in real life leeches don't have binary sexes anyway. But i cant decide between whether i want them to look like a full plague doctor mask thing or a more cliche cutesy nurse but theyre like super tall and look like the monster girl from the ring so they get sad that people always run away before they can help them! So then i was thinking "hey, alternate skins!" Not like in the other games ive played where there's always one canon skin and all the others require hours of grinding and/or real money to buy. But just that there's like three or so randomized versions of the base character with all the same stats but a different costume. Just to spice up the pool of options a bit! Or maybe it could even be more than just the costume and you can get entirely different reinterpretations of that job class? Like the medusa jellyfish could be either a young kid or a grandpa!

Oh and i'm not really sure how to name this or anything? Cos its not really a clear category of animals, its not all insects or all worms or whatever. More like just..all the animals that are unfairly hated but have Cool Biology Facts that i can babble at u to maybe make u like them more. So i dunno.. Pests? Creepy crawlies? Some entirely made up fantasy term for them?

Also i think the setting will definately be jrpg fantasy! Just a world where all these critters are actually funky people on a comedically bad D&D quest. I wonder who the villains could be tho? Maybe theyre gijinkas of more commonly loved cute animals? Or like.. Not gijinkas but monsterfied versions? Hilariously over the top evil fluffums! hamsters are this setting's dragons! And i dunno maybe the ultimate dark lord is a dog with a cat for a royal vizier or something, cos theyre the kings of popularity.

This could also make it actually make sense why the Clione character could be a beserker like in real life! Cos theyre the most un-hated rare sea slug for looking cute, but their actual personality is big scary predator. But in this universe being seen as cute by humans = evil, so the Clione's fighty doom personality would make perfect sense! Im not sure if i should make them like a tormented Shadow esque antihero or a paladin-looking knight who has a dark streak or maybe even a viking? Cos in videogames theyre like the epitome of 'loves fighting but is still a nice hugs guy'. And it'd be neat to have a chubby buff clione instead of the more cliche bishie gijinka. But then i mean theyre literally nicknamed 'sea angels' or 'sea fairies' depending on country so yeah? Oh or maybe that could mean i make them an elf or an angel but theyre still mega buff! Viking guy with lil chibi wings and halo!

Also randomly i think that Slug will be the other nonbinary character along with Leech. Cos well there's a lot of bugs who dont fit the human gender binary but i'd probably be a bit too obnoxious if i had like 90% enbies and noone else. I always think about like 'if this is my first game project i need to go at a small and reasonable pace with all the Big LGBT Feels', yknow? But then every idea i do is always my first game project cos ive never completed any of them yet XD

Anyway i think Slug would be a more fashionable bishie kind of androgenous character, while Leech is a relateable cuddly socially awkward one who wears a mask. But definately also looks stylish in their own way, and i'm sure Slug is always complimenting them and trying to bolster their spirits! Aside from being super fashionable i also think maybe Slug would be a wandering bard? Cos somehow slow animal -> lazy human -> free spirited instead to be less cliche -> bard. Also the whole 'bard rolls to seduce every boss' meme, lol! So Slug is a very nyeheheh tricksy flirty adventuring song person who aint take nobody's shit. Instead of being sleepy they sleep on the concept of low self confidence! Full and powerful pride at all times!!! Goal in life is to be beautiful AF and handsome AF and make everyone swoon at your feet and also recite an epic poetry so cool that your enemies straight up die from the sick burn. Tho i mean i don't think anyone could actually ACHIEVE that, lol! It might be obnoxious if i actually have a character who's basically 'enby people are literally perfect in all ways'. So i just think Slug is a big ol dork who's like the Gaston archetype of the comically overconfident flirt, but like a good and heroic version who actually respects when people say no to their advances. And is also a great BFF to Leech and tries to help them get out of their shell, because well of course Slug is out of theirs XD

Also actually i dunno whether they should all just be named after the animal or have thier own names but the animal is mentioned on their profile as a job class name or something? Cos it might get awkward once we get to more specific obscure bugs with longer names or ones who only really have a scientific genus name. I'd feel like i'd have to make them all wizards cos their names sound like spells! Oh MAYBE THEYRE SPELLS!! Like each character could chant their own scientific name when they use their ultimate attack??

Oh and maybe Slug and Leech could be just based on the species in general but have their alternate costumes themed after more specific rare subspecies? Like Slug could have nudibranch themed costumes cos the vibrant colours would fit such an elegant fashioniste~ And leech could just be an opportunity to talk about how there's subspecies of leech that dont drink blood, though this character is based on the ones that do because otherwise they wouldnt really have a unique job class, lol. Maybe their rarest alt costume is a fashionable orange ensemble that symbolizes both Slug taking them out for a night on the town in their finest to feel more comfortabke in their self confidence, and also just the fact there's an orange tropical leech. Its kinda funny cos there isnt such a huge range of different colours for leeches, its mostly just different barely visible patterns and a spectrum from greenish brown to brownish black, lol. And then suddenly a bunch of wildly different red and orange ones! And nothing in between! Really does seem like a surprise makeover from your bestie, yknow?

Oh and then when i was thinking about other potential relationships between different magic bug people, i thought of Daddy Longlegs! Cos thats a name confusingly given to multiple bugs of wildly different species who're all mistaken for spiders when they really arent. And this mythical nonexistant daddy longlegs spider also has the myth of having 'the strongest poison but its fangs are too short to bite you' which is COMPLETE nonsense based on nothibg cos how would it even survive in the wild if it cant hunt? But its a real cool myth so it could be an awesome excuse to make them have a move that gambles on either an instant kill or a self debuff. ALSO THEY ARE MARRIED

I was thinking they could be a duo of fabulous zorro-looking assassin dudes who were sent to assassinate each other but instead fell in love and quit the business for good. Like 'you made me want to live again, and the only reason i threw my life away on this job was cos i wanted to die'. And to atone for all the bad mercenary stuff theyd done in the past, now theyre robin hood esque mercenaries who take jobs with world-saving hero groups like our protagonists. And they work for free as long as the cause is just! And they wish they could settle down someday and dream about having children of their own, but they feel like they dont deserve it after all that theyve done. They'd be a rare goofy bugmans that actually have a real emotional backstory! So anyway they're fancy fencing guys who're both the same class but maybe slightly different variants with different stat builds or abilities? More specialized and all. Like maybe one is speedy but weaker and one is slower but stronger? Or one relies more on luck based attacks and one is a consistant damage dealer but has a lower max damage cap? Or even one is status effects and one is attack and really even though they have the same job name theyre wildly different interpretations of it. Fitting for the entomology mistake husbands! I want them to be balanced so that they have special bonuses together but are still viable to use separately if your party setup only requires one of them. Also randomly i think their names would be Albedo and Rubedo? I was originally gonna make Rubedo the name of the leech cos i mean alchemy words and plague masks and all. But then it doesnt really SOUND like an alchemy word, it sounds like a fancy handsome dancer name. And then i started thinking about the cute once-sad-now-happy young assassin dads fighting together so well that it looks like one big dance between them, rather than a battle. And i got REAL EMOTIONAL over goddamn bug gijinkas! Man my heart is made of paper and mush!! Oh and maybe they have combo attacks together but also with all of the party members that are younger? Like special dad instinct combo! A built in ability that they automatically shield the kids from enemy attacks. YOU HIRED A MERCENARY BUT YOU RECEIVED A NICE MARRIED COUPLE WHO PROMPTLY ADOPT YOU. Oh and maybe their alternate costumes could just be each other's costumes? Like they'd already be wearing matching red and white versions of the same thing, but then albino dad wears ginger dad's version and vice versa. Or maybe their alt costumes are different complimentary colour pairs like black and gold or blue and pink? And maybe their ultra rare special costume is Big Cute Dorky Argyle Dad Sweaters! It must be capitalized cos it is IMPORTANT!

Oh and then i was also thinking about the idea i had before of bugs with a queen hive structure being like the workers are the common unit and the breeders and queens and such are rarer variants? But the workers are the only ones actually good in a fight, the others are just for collectables sake. Rare but useless, just like how the real queen bee is so big that she cant leave the hive, and never figjts a day in her life unless the kingdom has already fallen. So maybe queen bee is still unlockable as a rare character but she's just a support that makes worker bee stronger? Like you get a lil event of worker's boss coming to honor her with a knighthood for her good service, allowing her to upgrade her job class. Tho i think she still fights with construction work equipment, now its just like a golden jewelled shovel XD

#bug app game #if i actually make this it obviously wont be an app game cos im not capable of programming or funding that #itd just be a free rpgmaker project that spoofs all the cliches of this genre of gijinka gatcha nonsense #youd just earn coins to buy randomized new units via regular gameplay #and probably have a lot more ease of enjoyment features to balance it out and stuff #like your odds go up if you get lots of unlucky pulls in a row #i just want everyone to have fun and be able to see as many of my goofy characters as possible!#no need to stretch it out to 120 hours if nobodys getting money for it lol

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serpent-jugheadjones · 7 years

Text

Dog Days - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Doctor!Reader x Jughead Jones

Description: A journey into Y/N’s life before and after Jughead Jones.

Warnings: ANGST, abandonment, child neglect, bullying, cursing, alcohol...

Word count: 4371

A/N: Y/N is highly based out of Lexie Grey and Maggie Pierce from Grey’s Anatomy with a little magical realism added, because in reality you CAN’T be a doctor after only one year of med school. @caitsymichelle13 requested the reader’s life before Jughead came in but I felt I had more to say about after as well so here’s both.

Breathing became irrelevant the second Jughead’s lips touched hers. Earth’s magnetic pull seemed to fade as his grip on her waist tightened. The knot in the pitch of her stomach demanded more. However, in the real world, magical moments like this don’t last long. Y/N’s pager beeps. They reluctantly let go of each other. “It’s Fred. He’s awake.”, she reveals, catching her breath with a wide smile. Both run as fast as they can until they reach his room. Only Jug enters, sitting next to Archie, who is already inside holding his dad’s hand. Dr. Masters leaves with an accomplished look, telling Dr. Y/L/N to get his discharge papers ready, but the girl is absently staring at the raven-haired boy’s face relax in joy. The doctor snaps his fingers in front of her eyes, forcing her out of that sweet daydream. “Tell me you didn't make out with a patient.”, Steven inquires. “I didn't.”, she replies, but her features tell a different tale. “Yeah. What are the red lips from then?” He hands her a mirror from the nurse’s station. “He’s not the patient...”, Y/N defends, almost giggling. “Kid, you are unbelievable.” The older doctor teases before walking away. Jughead is too focused on hearing Fred’s near death/morphine induced dreams to see the Y/H/C girl leaving. She’s wrapping her head around the fact that it’s highly unlikely she’ll see the boy again, since the reason he was there to begin with is being released. And talking afterwards would just ruin the perfect instant she’d remember forever.

Five-year-old Y/N isn't sitting in her living-room painting outside the lines like most kids in the neighborhood. She’s standing by the door frame watching her mom pack suitcases with all her belongings before her father arrives. The girl silently watches the woman scribble on a neon-yellow post-it and hurriedly load the car with the baggage. Her mother hastily sits her on a high baby chair that’s two sizes too small for her, with a toy Y/N doesn't play with since she was 3. The woman paces around the kitchen a couple of times. Maybe trying to convince herself to back down or perhaps just searching for the right thing to say. “You be good. Your daddy isn't a bad man. He just doesn't understand us.” She pecks Y/N’s smooth forehead and leaves, dropping her keys in the trashcan. Whether she wants it or not, those words are forever etched on Y/N’s memory.

The little girl doesn't despair, cry or scream. She just sits there, bored out of her mind, waiting for her father to come home and release her. Maybe it’s good young kids don’t have a high sense of time, for Y/N may have sat in that uncomfortable chair for much longer than she should’ve. When the confused man finally arrives he walks past his daughter, directly facing their room almost empty. Already hopeless he finds THE NOTE stuck in the baby chair. ‘I’m not coming back.’ No more, no less. The woman didn't need to explain herself and had no sentiment left to sign out with love. He holds back anger and sadness to comfort his daughter, granted he’s the one who needs it. “It’s just you and me now, kiddo. We’ll take care of each other.” Her father promises.

Y/N’s in the trivial age for a girl, thirteen. However, body changes, hormones and crushes are the least of her worries. School teachers have called a psychologist to analyze her. After hours of awkward silence the doctor finished reading through her file. Instead of asking her questions on family matters and anti-socialism, he just hands her a few papers stapled together. “You have thirty minutes to finish answering as many of this as you can.” She takes a look at the cover, Mensa Workout. In less than twelve minutes every question has been answered and the test delivered. He only releases her scores to the principal, who then tells her she did excellent. The whole reason for this is that the girl hasn't been paying attention in class and even failed a couple. Turns out it’s because the subjects aren't challenging enough for her an they suggest homeschooling with college professors.

Y/N has practically raised herself, since the man who was supposed to be her father didn't uphold his word of taking care of her. Instead, he drowned himself on a bottle every night, then every afternoon and, finally, all day long. If possible, he’d add an extra hour on the day just to ‘numb’ his pain as he calls it. She understands how painful it must be for him, although having a hard time agreeing with his view of the world. Her father tells her, in between sips, that the it is rotten, poisonous and doomed. Nevertheless, the young girl believes everything can be fixed if you give your best. Y/N starts her Skype classes without a word to her father, who wouldn't know the difference anyways. She adds extra reading on anatomy and mechanics. Sure one or the other will be her future, for she wants to mend things. Probably because no matter the effort, she can’t seem to repair her old man. The girl just has to silently watch him change out of a successful businessman into a couch potato with facial hair.

She’s 15. Sitting by the diner table, waiting to open the envelope containing the results of her test. Not a pregnancy test like her ex-colleagues from school. Maybe her father wouldn't mind that one as much as this. “If you open that, you are on your own.”, he spits, crushing his beer can with his fist. “I've been on my own since mom left.” Y/N unseals the letter. She successfully tested out of High School and can begin college, since the girl pre-applied before the results came in, knowing she would ace the test. “Get out!”, the man shouts in anger. He’s been abandoned by a wife and can’t take the same ‘rejection’ from a daughter so this is the way he lashes out. “I've been forgiving you for all the mistreating since she couldn't stand you anymore, but I WON’T let you dictate my future as you tried hers.” She packs a quick bag with clothes and carefully selected files and documents, leaving all she knows behind.

Sweet Sixteen is just a few hours away and she’s about to be dismissed of Med School directly into her internship. It’s both a relief for no longer being called a toddler or told to go back to pre-school by her ‘peers’ and a stress for what’s to come. On usual cases, even for early admissions, one is obligated to complete the 4 years of college before practicing. Nevertheless, guaraná and ginseng pills, Red Bulls, straight-up cafeine, and extra classes shortened her time to one year. It took many meetings with the board and several practical tests for them to allow her to skip the next 3 years. Maybe her ‘peers’ are the ones who should go back to pre-school.

Y/N doesn't have a graduation like most her colleagues will. Nonetheless, the thrilled girl sent her father and invitation to be there when she takes the Declaration of Geneva. As that is a milestone for her and medicine altogether. “I solemnly pledge to consecrate my life to the service of humanity. I will give to my teachers the respect and gratitude that is their due. I will practice my profession with conscience and dignity. The health of my patient will be my first consideration. I will respect the secrets that are confided in me, even after the patient has died. I will maintain by all the means in my power, the honor and the noble traditions of the medical profession. My colleagues will be my sisters and brothers;I will not permit considerations of age, disease or disability, creed, ethnic origin, gender, nationality, political affiliation, race, sexual orientation, social standing or any other factor to intervene between my duty and my patient. I will maintain the utmost respect for human life. I will not use my medical knowledge to violate human rights and civil liberties, even under threat; I make these promises solemnly, freely and upon my honor.”, Y/N pledges with pride. Her professors shake her hand and wish her luck in her journey. Instead of enjoying her success, her mind is stuck on one thing only: the man didn't show up.

Riverdale is her choice for internship, not because they are high-tech, top of the line or get the rarest cases, quite the opposite. She wants to use her expertise to help those who need it. Also, the fact that it’s far away from her ‘home’ certainly helped the decision. From all the places Y/N applied, this is the only one that looked over her age, directly into her aptitudes. Some Hospital chiefs would politely decline, others would downright humiliate her, a rare few gave her a spot in their program. Ultimately, that seemed like the best choice for her.

However, being a newcomer is never easy, specially in a small town where everyone knows each other and are used to the same old things. However, having only enough money to buy a trailer in the ‘wrong’ side of the tracks doesn't turn out too bad as she finds judgment-free camaraderie with them, specially with Toni. That’s probably the first time Y/N can say she has a friend. But the fight for respect is still just as difficult. Y/N is, undoubtedly, the most efficient and quick intern there, but when people, usually patient’s loved ones, look at her, all they see is a little girl. That only makes her work twice as hard, having not a lot of time for anything else. Fortunately, her success rate and humor are enough to win them over.

She walks out of the hospital with dark bags under her eyes but a grin on her lips, after the best shift of her life. In the parking lot, she finds the reason for her perkiness. The boy who gave her an unforgettable first kiss leaning against a motorbike. “Hop on.”, Jughead instructs, throwing her his extra helmet. “How long have you been standing there?”, Y/N asks, fastening the belt on the helmet. “A while...” The freckled boy smirks, sliding his leg over the bike and the girl follows. “Where are we off to?”, she asks. “Dinner. Gotta repay you for saving my friend’s dad.” Jughead grabs the girl’s arms and wraps them tightly around his waist and rides out of the hospital in speed. Y/N was sure that kiss was a one time thing because the boy needed to blow off some stress. She’s never been gladder to be wrong.

“You've never had a Pop’s milkshake?”, Jughead asks as they park under the glow of the diner’s neon sign. “I don’t get out of my side of town often.”, Y/N explains quickly, looking at the tagging on the walls of Jug’s favorite place: ‘Death Diner’. They go in, wary at what they may find after the recent events. Fortunately, it’s just Pop Tate at the counter. He wears a sorrowful expression. They learn, while eating burgers, fries and milkshakes, that the old man is claiming bankruptcy since no one is coming in the shop after what happened to Fred. “Ok, I for one can’t live any longer without these perfections.”, Y/N tells them with an ingenious expression. Seeing the smile on Pop’s face only made her will to help greater.

She immediately starts arranging a retro night with singing and dancing from Riverdale’s River Vixen and Pussycats. The young doctor gets a little help from Jughead’s friends, unaware that one of them is actually his ex. This fact doesn't prevent the event from being a huge success. People started coming in and having fun. Hopefully, this is the beginning of a new era for this small town.

It’s Christmas and they have just arrived at the Andrews’ house, since FP is still wrongfully incarcerated. Presents are set under the decorated tree and drinks are poured in the kitchen. Fred is still getting used to Y/N and Jughead’s relationship. But the girl did save his life, so he can’t really argue against it and even if Andrews won’t confess to it, he knows Jug has never been this happy before, especially in the middle of all that chaos. After a delicious feast, they settle in the living room couch, sharing funny stories, warm coffee and, finally, presents. Archie rips apart the ones with his name, getting some classic comics, a new guitar strap, an electric tuner and a set of picks, since he’s always complaining about losing them. Fred opens his carefully, revealing a framed photo of him, Jug, Archie and Vegas, a Superman shirt, and a razor, which earns laughs out of everyone in the room. “I think the beard suits you, Mr. Andrews.”, Y/N comments. “Thank you! And please, call me Fred.” He opens his last one with some vintage rock LP’s Y/N heard him talk about one day, grinning at her in gratitude. Jug is up next, shyly and awkwardly opening his, since he’s not used to getting gifts or having a healthy-family-life kind of thing. He gets a few first edition books of his favorites and the complete work of Quentin Tarantino in Blue Ray from the men who are a brother and second father to him. His girlfriend gives him a typewriter, a gesture that almost brings the novelist to tears. He holds it in, not wanting to put anyone down. The Y/H/C girl is surprised she has more than one to open, since she wasn't expecting the Andrews’s boys to get her anything. She’s met with a travel cup, twice as big as her already large one with the words “Mornings are for coffee and early rounds.”, a play with her favorite line from Stranger Things. They don’t know her well enough yet but still manage to surprise her with a heartfelt present. Then Jug hands her a large heavy box. She finds two items inside it: a helmet, same model as Jughead’s, and a pocketknife. “So you can scrape MD in front, to match mine.”, the freckled boy reveals with a wide smile, almost as large as Y/N’s.

Snow is falling this New Year’s. Y/N and Jug are outside the Wyrm, thick gloves on, leather jackets snug their torso, his with the snake embroidery and their personally designed helmets. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I've never rode anything other than dirt bikes.” The girl is much more comfortable being in the back. “You’ll do fine.”, Jughead reassures her. “How did you get her in a bike, Jones? Been trying for months.”, Toni asks, amazed. “He’s got a sweet way of asking.”, Y/N answers, resulting in a shy smirk from the boy. The pink-haired girl walks away laughing. “So, left side controls the gear, right side acceleration and braking.” He shows her one last time before giving her control. “Should I be shaking this much?.”, she asks. “Relax. I’m right behind you the whole time, just in case.”. Jug strokes her arms, soothing her mind. The Y/H/C girl turn the ignition and rushes out of the parking lot, shouting in excitement. All the fear is gone the second her feet leaves the ground and the chilly wind starts blowing on her face as she rides through the Southside streets.

911. Not from her pager, but her personal phone. The now Resident girl races to her makeshift OR inside a back room in the Whyte Wyrm. “What happened?”, Y/N asks calmly but hurriedly, putting on surgical gloves and mask. “Damn Greendale guys didn't hold up their end of the deal...” Y/N cuts Tall Boy off as she starts sterilizing her instruments. “I don’t care for businesses talk. I mean what the fuck tore Sweet Pea’s abdomen?” She injects an IV with fluids and sedatives, applying pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. “Knife.”, the long haired Serpent reveals through the young boy’s pain screams, not leaving the side of his younger ‘brother’ as the girl analizes his wound. “Ok. It didn't cut through any vital organs. He just needs a few stitches. I got it from here.” The man leaves reluctantly so Y/N can tend to yet another gang member hurt.

She walks out of the room with a limping teen hanging onto her shoulders for support. Clapping echoes through the bar as Sweet Pea sits on a chair. The girl heads behind the counter and pours herself a shot, downing it with ease and filling the small cup once more. “Y/N.”, Jughead calls for her gently. She turns around to see FP Jones standing behind his son with a serious look. “We appreciate everything you've done for us. This is yours if you want it.” The Serpents’ leader extends her their signature leather jacket. Y/N takes it from him and slides it on with a smirk. By the corner of her eyes, she sees Penny Peabody jealous, quivering in her seat and tightening the grip in her glass. “Yeah, Dr. Speedy!” The whole room, Toni louder than everyone, starts chanting Y/N’s nickname, given to her by the fact that since her hands touched the bike’s handles, she hasn't slowed down. “Jacket or no jacket, you've always been one of us.”, Tall Boy pats her back, which really gets a reaction from the Serpents’ lawyer. Thankfully, Topaz’s pride of her outweighs Peabody’s envy.

Jughead graduates from High School just as Y/N starts her Fellowship. Their relationship goes through a rough patch because the hours are long and arduous at Riverdale’s Hospital and Jug is always riding somewhere to deal with Serpents’ business. They also fight over him not wanting to go to college and her never being able to follow him on his trips. “I just want the best for you, Juggie. Why can’t you see that?” The girl tries to reason with him once more. “Maybe getting a degree just isn't for me. I don’t wanna work 24/7 like you.”, he spits, too angry to realize the pain his words are causing. “I haven’t seen you write since you graduated. You’re wasting your talent. I can’t watch you do that in silence.” She ignores his obvious attempt to hurt her, for she cares deeply about him. “Then you shouldn't watch it.” Jughead immediately regrets his words, but it’s too late. His girlfriend has sped off their home, with nothing but the clothes in her back. They've been living together on her trailer since his father was released.

A few days go by and Y/N is staying at the Hospital. Toni has been providing her with clean clothes and essentials but she’s been living off of vending machine snacks and Z-Drugs. No matter how mad Y/N is, the girl can’t willingly sleep on a bed without Jughead next to her anymore. At the end of every shift, she takes a walk around the hospital to clear her head. This time he’s waiting for her outside, almost exactly like the night after Fred Andrews woke up. “About time.”, she tells him, crossing her arms around her torso defensively. “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.” He’s not saying that because he thinks it’s what she wants to hear. “Can’t disagree with that.” They both laugh and Jug embraces her, a hug filled with regret and sorrow. “I applied to a community college nearby. A couple of classes a week in the writing program...“ She silences him with a sweet kiss, washing away any bad feelings. “I’ll try my best to get more free time.”, the girl promises what she can, for people’s lives depend on her. “Let’s go home.”, she adds. “Just one more thing.” Juggie kneels down, looking up at her. His heart pounding so loudly he can’t hear his own thoughts. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”, Jughead asks nervously but confidently. The Y/H/C girl can’t even believe his words but after blinking a few times the beanie-clad boy is still there, holding a small velvet box with a thin golden snake ring with two little malachite stones as eyes, which belonged to his grandmother. “Yeah... Yes. YES!”, Y/N answers euphorically, slipping the engagement band around her left ring finger overjoyed. Jughead holds the doctor by the waist as she locks her arms on his neck, spinning her in ecstasy.

The wedding is held in the backyard of the Andrews’ house, right after Y/N gets her board certification and Jug finishes his first semester in college. The maid of honer, Toni Topaz, flawlessly decorated the small space with tree branches, lime veils and candles inside mason jars, providing an effortless but cute look. Their closest friends and some of Jughead’s relatives are the only guests, as they want it to be a private thing. Y/N is walking to the improvised altar, seeing the love of her life standing there with a smirk in a dark chrome-green suit, all-star boots and his infamous beanie. She’s never been more certain of something ever before than the way she feels for that man. Jug’s eyes are glowing at the sight of his bride in a flowy dress, Y/H/C locks loose and natural, little make up on, as he asked, since he loves her the way she is, not a pampered version for pictures. She’s being walked by FP. The girl did send her father an invitation, but the man never replied. To tell the truth, she’s glad the Serpents’ leader is the one holding her arm, for he’s constantly had her back when she needed, no questions asked.

Archie is not only the best man, but the one hosting the ceremony, as a priest isn't really the atheist couple style. The ginger shares a few funny stories of them before they say their vows. Jughead starts, clearing his throat. “You met me in a very strange time in my life.” The guests chuckle. Knowing Juggie, it’s obvious there was going to be a book/movie reference. “I can always be me with you, however moody that is sometimes. If I get lost, it’s ok because I know I’ll always find myself in you.” People are holding in their emotions. “I'm the most fortunate person alive just to have you by my side. I want to honor that blessing every day of our lives.” Jughead has to take a moment to breathe and regain his composure. “I’m yours. I've been yours from the first time I laid eyes on you. I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.” Everyone is brought to tears at his sweetness and proficiency. “Jughead Jones. You’ll forever be my 42.” Some guests whisper the explanation of the number to some confused faces. “In the middle of 7.5 billion people living in this blue sphere orbiting endlessly in a not so exciting quadrant of the universe, we found each other. Among all the chaos we stand by one another, no matter what.” They have proven that countless times. “Truth be told I don’t need a ring or a wedding to know I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” Jughead laughs, partially because he feels the same way. “Still, I can’t wait another second to be Y/N Jones.” She kisses him before Archie even gives them permission to. Everyone claps cheerfully.

She’s now a fully certified trauma surgeon and married to her soul mate. Proudest moment of her life. Scratch that.

A few years later they are all at Riverdale’s hospital again. This time, Fred Andrews is the one in the waiting room. Jughead and Y/N are in an OR. She’s fully sedated and a bit giggly from it. Jug is a nervous wreck, but he’s putting on a tough act. They are patiently expecting to hear a cry. When they finally do, it’s as if that’s the most beautiful sound in the world. The OB-GYN lays their baby on her chest and both of them can’t stop smiling. Jughead kisses both his wife’s forehead and his baby’s. Y/N wants this moment to last forever, but at the same time, she’s already seeing their child growing up and running around town, having Pop’s milkshake for the first time.

Once Y/N is moved to a room, she’s allowed visitors. The first ones to come in are FP and Fred, followed by the whole gang, Archie, Toni, Veronica, Kevin and even Betty. Jughead is holding his child close to his heart, walking over so that his friends and family can take a look at what he considers the most magnificent creature. “Everyone! Meet, Y/B/N Y/L/N-Jones.”, he says proudly. “The first.”, Archie jokes and everyone laughs. FP embraces his grandchild, feeling his eyes water and his heart ache in happiness as Y/N’s best friend captures the moment with her analog camera. “My turn.”, Toni demands, sliding her device back and holding out her arms. She’s the godmother and couldn't be gladder. Archie takes Y/B/N with such care, as if he’s scared that a single wrong move will break the tiny child. The others take their turn at the baby bliss and return the sleepy newborn to it’s mother. Jughead unconsciously gets real close to her, magnetically attracted. That is their proudest moment.

#Jughead Jones #Jughead Jones x Reader #Jughead Jones x Doctor!Reader #Riverdale #Jughead Jones III #Forsythe Pendleton Jones III #Riverdale Imagine #Jughead Jones Imagine #Riverdale Imagines #Jughead Jones Imagines #Juggie Jones #imagine #fanfic #Thank you mom for proofreading

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sobriquett · 4 years

Text

Dear Yuletide Author

Dear my wonderful Yuletide author,

Isn’t it the most magical time of year? What follows is possibly information overload but, apart from my one big DNW, I want you to write something you’ll enjoy, and I’ll enjoy it too.

I like gen or romance; I love women in starring roles; I adore gut-clenching, heart-in-throat angst, although I’m also partial to fluff; I like happy endings, unhappy endings, happily for now but ultimately doomed and everyone knows it endings. I love missing scenes that reveal more about a character or alternate perspectives of canon events. Above all, I love close-canon AU/canon divergence – a story with a clear point of departure that explores an alternative ‘what if’ sort of scenario within the rules of that world.

Basically, I love any story that makes use of the characters’ context and takes advantage of it. The social, historical, political, cultural context is what makes me interested in particular characters and relationships – how they react to the opportunities, restrictions and spoken or unspoken rules of their worlds.

My one big DNW: please don’t take the characters out of their context (no coffee shop AU/high school AU/modern AU/omegaverse AU, etc.) – I prefer either canon-compliant fic or close-canon AU, just something that fits into its source’s universe.

My other do-not-want is graphic depictions of (physical) torture or mutilation – if I can imagine it in cinema quality and I wince, no thank you. That doesn’t mean bad things can’t happen – violence and terror is a way of life for some of the passengers on Snowpiercer, for example, and Nobu has been badly injured in the past – but I would prefer it not to be gratuitous or too vividly described. (Violence is fine, if appropriate, it’s just torture and mutilation/permanent damage that’s not.) Anything else goes.

In terms of sexual content: if that works for you, I am there for it. I am happy with a fic at any rating and any degree of explicit-ness. I’ve listed my letter under Yuleporn before with details of interests and DNWs, I may do again this year. If you want to write something that way out this year, look here. (If I write a 2020 letter, I’ll edit to add that later.)

Fandom 1: Victoria (TV)

William Lamb 2nd Viscount Melbourne, Queen Victoria

I loved the first season of this show. I haven’t actually seen the rest of it but, for these two characters, I don’t think that matters. Oh, the shippy feels I had that autumn…

I know this relationship wouldn’t work, could never work, for at least fifteen thousand reasons, but God, I want it to. (Not least that actual Melbourne is forty years older than Victoria; I’m totally there for older man/younger woman but that’s a little extreme.) My pie-in-the-sky weeping-with-joy dream fic would explore the constitutional consequences of them saying ‘oh fuck it’ and getting married, or being forced to by circumstance. (Can queens have shotgun weddings?) I’d also enjoy fic about the method and consequences of them enjoying a more formal ‘companionship’. Don’t worry if it gets messy and ends badly, just tell me what happens.

Alternatively, and I admit more realistically, any of that period drama not-quite-touching not-quite-saying-what-they-mean thing – and Melbourne’s a master of that – absolutely delights me, or those moments they spend alone where they get just a little bit closer and they’re only talking in metaphors but you just know they have feelings – I have feelings, we all have feelings, so many feelings. Or, perhaps, they move past all of that and subtext becomes text – smutty, romantic, whatever, as long as that relationship that’s canonically played out in carefully chosen words, extended metaphors and difficult flowers gets to become a tangible something.

If shippy fic is not your thing here, then I’d ask you to explore the mentor relationship between them. Melbourne is Victoria’s teacher in many ways, but he also has ghosts of his own to haunt him. They have both been deeply unhappy for a long time until they first meet. What joy do they find in each other and their friendship?

Fandom 2: Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden

Toshikazu Nobu

Nobu’s appearances are the high points of the novel for me and I love the curious balance of bickering and mutual respect that characterises his relationship with Sayuri. (Nobu/Sayuri is my rarest and dearest of rarepairs.) However, Sayuri wasn’t nominated and so I can’t request that, so I have a completely open mind. I would be delighted to know more about Nobu’s relationship with any of the other characters, nominated or otherwise, or even simply his own thoughts and his personal history.

Neither Sayuri nor Nobu seem to have known much kindness in their life; I like to think they’d find that in each other, sort of kindred spirits. I would enjoy more of their wit, kindness and mutual respect in any form.

Both place importance on the kindness of the Chairman. Nobu and the Chairman have been friends for such a long time, and it seems a complex friendship worth exploring – mutual respect and obligation, trust and reliance. And the triangle between Sayuri, Nobu and the Chairman is a strange, fragile thing. Each pair has such a strong bond, each of the three relationships so different from one another.

Nobu is perhaps second only to Mameha in the degree of his influence over Sayuri’s career. They are both intelligent, independent survivors in their respective worlds (teahouses, factories, okiyas, battlefields) but neither is totally free nor happy and I would enjoy seeing their interaction or one’s perspective on the other.

Do Nobu and the Baron ever meet? I’d like to imagine they have quite different philosophies regarding the role of these women in their lives, but perhaps they’re more similar than we think.

If Hatsumomo is your girl, I’m sure she and Nobu have some strong opinions on one another and have met at one time or another.

I always enjoy fic in this fandom; you can’t go wrong.

Fandom 3: Snowpiercer (TV)

Any character(s)

I haven’t requested any particular characters because I have no preference; I also have no ship preferences, canonical or otherwise. I’m most fascinated by the design of the train – that is, the way everything is interconnected and interdependent in terms of resources and the associated peril. Also, I’m fascinated by the social design of the train – the class structure and the differences in privilege, as well as the mobility or lack thereof between classes, and the difference between what is and what was intended (or not). What strain, exactly, do the Tailies put on the train’s resources? They weren’t part of the physical or social design.

Above, I requested no graphic descriptions of torture or mutilation. I recognise that violence and mutilation is canon here, so if it’s going to add your story please don’t let my DNW stop you as long as it’s not gratuitous. This is a dark and dangerous world, so your fic could easily be dark and dangerous too. On the other hand, perhaps you might explore a moment of joy or relief in the darkness instead.

Please, explore this world in any way you like – any character, any ship. The setting – the train – is the star for me. If there’s something in particular that resonates for you, please use it.

Fandom 4: Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte

Jane Eyre

As problematic as it may be in some ways, this has been one of my favourite novels since I was quite young.

I enjoy Jane’s relationship with Rochester and would happily read anything on the subject at any point in the timeline. I would also happily read more about her relationship with any of the other characters in her life, nominated or otherwise.

I love exploring the historical contexts of my fandoms and pushing their boundaries. What would have happened if the wedding hadn’t been interrupted in time? Please, go as dark as you like (or not, maybe they get an early HEA), but consider Jane’s morality and the prevailing mores of the time. What if Rochester had died in the fire at Thornfield? How does Jane respond and what direction does her life take? What if the night after the wedding, before Jane ran away, had gone differently – what if she yields, against her character and reason, runs away with Rochester after all? Or merely succumbs to his physical advances? I enjoy a Victorian fallen woman tale, it’s a difficult life and it pushes all my buttons of following the society’s rules/angst/exploring consequences/angst.

Of course, while these fics could happily be written as devoutly Jane/Rochester fics, please feel free to make him the villain, or at least less-than-a-hero. If he corrupts Jane and damages her spiritually or physically, by all means explore the consequences – do they come back from it, or does their love fail?

If you just don’t want to write Rochester at all, I’m especially curious about Jane’s relationship with Mrs Fairfax, both during the timeline of the novel and after. Jane feels such affection and warmth towards Mrs Fairfax, how does she mark this? How do they spend their time together? Are they reunited post-canon? They are the closest thing to peers at Thornfield, as ladies but both dependents, but there is a gulf in age, experience, outlook and temperament between the two.

But I could also happily read about Jane and Adele, during or after the novel, or Jane and her grown-up cousins, or Jane and Bessie, or Jane and the Rivers siblings. If you use, feature or push the context of the novel in any way, the boundaries and rules of Jane’s world, I will be delighted.

#dear author letter #yuletide #yuletide 2020 #memoirs of a geisha #snowpiercer #victoria (tv)#itv victoria #jane eyre

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