#shes. idk. a very physical character so it would very much make sense for her to DANCE

[axiina]

PLSSS soft corio comforting reader after they get he saves her(or them idm) from the arena after she tried to say a proper goodbye to her tribute (kinda like sejanus) but maybe she gets hurt and super traumatized but hes there for her idk

If I Killed Someone for You

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral)

Summary: It wasn't supposed to end this way. You just wanted to say goodbye to your tribute, Lamina. Luckily, your boyfriend was there and made sure you didn't get hurt. Just why do you look at him differently now?

Words: 1.5k

Themes: hurt with comfort, a bit of fluff but also angst

Warnings: slight spoilers to movie and book, small changes to canon, Pup isn't Lamina's mentor, character's death, murder, a bit of trauma, blood, comforting, a bit of argument, death, overthinking, reader feels guilty about situation, referring reader as 'you'

Author's note: Lamina deserved better so you are her mentor, fuck this idiot Pup.

It was supposed to be fluff, but it came out a bit sad and traumatic. We got a soft Coriolanus, leaving aside the fact that he killed someone in the process. Enjoy!!

It was a pure act of desperation.

You just wanted to tell Lamina what you hadn't managed to do before. You had grown close to the young girl, who was horrified by what was happening. The very fact that she was in the arena, alone, without any support was driving you crazy.

She didn't deserve what happened to her. You hoped that maybe Lamina would be able to win and would be able to return home to the family she missed so much.

With each hour of the Hunger Games, her chances seemed to get smaller and smaller. For those few days, you sat like you were on pins and needles staring at the big screen at the Academy. After a while, the helplessness returned and you had to try not to cry in front of the cameras.

Lamina did not deserve it. None of the tributes deserved it. You did everything you could to make Lamina feel as comfortable as possible during the meetings and her stay at the Capitol. In the arena, you tried your best to make sure she wasn't hungry or thirsty. You didn't want her to get hurt. That, however, was not enough. Seeing a boy from her district, Treetch, joining another group made you feel anxious.

"What if they kill her? What if he betrays her…" This thought ran through your head repeatedly like a mantra.

She became weaker and weaker every day.

Your last meeting was too short. You didn't have time to say goodbye to her properly. You wanted her to know that even though you were physically somewhere else, your heart and thoughts were with her, at the arena. You had to say goodbye to her. You wouldn't forgive yourself if Lamina died without hearing a proper goodbye.

That's why you decided to see her one last time. Under cover of darkness, you crept into the arena in disguise and quietly snuck under the beam where Lamina was. Perhaps foolish and reckless, but you didn't think about the consequences. Ever since the girl got to the arena you couldn't find a place. You slept only short naps and didn't even want to meet Coriolanus, who was getting more and more worried about you.

While you were at the arena, every now and then you looked nervously around to the sides to see if anyone was coming. Lamina was surprised when you showed up. It was all surreal and you felt as if you were detached from reality. As soon as you saw Lamina you started crying. You both cried. Now the knowledge of how dangerous the arena was came to you like a powerful punch. She can't die. You don't remember what exactly you told her. You don't know if you said anything that made sense to her at all. The adrenaline made your mind kind of foggy. However, you know that it lifted her spirits. She knew you were with her and supporting her. You don't know exactly how much you were in the arena.

Everything happened so fast when Coriolanus grabbed your arm. Your brain didn't even register the fact that the boy appeared there practically out of nowhere. He looked terrified. He spoke quickly and incoherently. You only understood as he begged you to run away from there, because at any moment someone might come out of the tunnels and kill you. You were frozen with panic when it came to you. They hate the Capitol. They hate you too, and they certainly wouldn't think twice before killing you. Your fear was increased when Lamina's eyes widened in horror and only one word came out of her mouth.

Run.

Tributes began to leave the tunnels. As soon as they noticed that there were two mentors in the arena they started running towards you. Because of the adrenaline in your veins, you don't remember much of what happened next. You and Coriolanus ran as fast as you could when Coral, Mizzen, Tanner and Bobbin chased you while holding objects in their hands that could be the cause of your upcoming death.

The next scene that stuck in your mind was when your boyfriend hit one of the tributes on the head with a wooden plank. The boy fell down, and Coriolanus, without thinking much, hit him a second time. Then another and another. You looked at the body of Bobbin lying lifeless and Snow standing over him, unable to get a single word out. Your heart was raging and your head was spinning, feeling fear. You were terrified.

You couldn't tell what was the reason. The fact that you had just nearly died in the arena, or…. no, it couldn't have been that. He was merely trying to defend you. Yes, that was definitely the reason. Coriolanus is not a murderer, he was just…. he was terrified and acted emotionally. Bobbin would have killed him if Coryo hadn't done it first. Then you would have been next in line. Yes, that's what would have happened.

Both of you were injured, but at that moment it didn't even cross your mind to ask him how he was feeling. The Peace Keepers almost carried you out of there. Your parents were as terrified as you were. By the time you were sitting in your room wrapped in a blanket as your mother hugged you crying something finally hit you. You could have died. Your family would have been devastated. Your friends and…Coriolanus. Well, exactly, Coriolanus. He almost died because of your fault. Your stupidity and recklessness. Now he is injured and probably suffering, and you are not there with him. After what happened you didn't even say a stupid thank you to him.

"What were you even thinking! You could have died there! Did you even think about your loved ones? About me? What would have happened to me if you had died there? If I didn't get there in time!" Coriolanus repeated walking in circles around the empty classroom, the next morning. You had your head bent down, and tears were running down your cheeks. How could you do something like that?

Coriolanus sighed and sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you closer.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't yell like that. You're probably still terrified. I was just…scared. I was scared that I would lose you."

It seemed to you that his voice cracked as the boy pressed his cheek against your head.

"Don't do that again. Don't scare me like that. If you had died I wouldn't have forgiven myself. I wouldn't be able to live normally." He whispered in your ear with a trembling voice.

"I'm here, love. I will always be until you have had enough of me. Although, most likely, even then I won't give you a break." A quiet, slightly trembling chuckle left his lips, at which you also smiled involuntarily.

"Enough of you? Never." you replied in an amused voice gently pulling away, but still remaining in his embrace. "I'm sorry, Coryo…I'm so terribly sorry for you. I just wanted to say goodbye to Lamina. I don't want anything bad to happen to her. I don't want her-"

"Shhh, it's okay." Coriolanus rested his forehead against yours and took your face in his hands gently stroking your cheeks. "It is past. The most important thing is that we came out of it alive. Lamina is also alive and relatively well, excluding the circumstances."

"Thank you, Coryo. Thank you for everything. For saving me that night and that you do not resent me for it." You whispered, trying not to cry. You nuzzled your cheek into his palm and placed a gentle kiss on it.

Coriolanus' face moved closer to yours and he gently brushed your lips with his own as if he was afraid he would frighten you.

"I am angry at you. Earlier even furious, but I love you too much to stay mad at you." Coryo gently rubbed his nose against yours and looked into your eyes.

His beautiful blue eyes. Cold, but at the same time it makes you feel at home. Eyes that yesterday were raging and at one point…full of hatred.

Your smile slowly disappeared as you remembered what happened to Bobbin.

"Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday-" you started uncertainly, but Coriolanus cut you off.

"No." His voice seemed cold and in a moment you were embarrassed and your heart beat faster. You were the reason he had to do it, and now you're reminding him of it. Maybe he thinks you are blaming it on him.

Your thoughts, however, were interrupted by your boyfriend's voice. Softer this time.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't want to do it, but it was stronger than me…Please don't hate me. I love you and I did it for you too."

His eyes were glassy and he seemed panicked. You shook your head in denial and took his hand in yours bringing it close to your lips and kissed his knuckles.

"No, you're a good person, Coryo. Nothing has changed. I continue to love you, and you only proved me during the night that I couldn't find a better one."

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.

"You know you don't have to…you don't have to be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt you. Never."

You froze for a brief moment. It was as if he was reading your mind. How could you think that about him? He saved you. If not for him, you would be dead.

It was stronger than that. When he approached you this morning your heart was beating faster and a chill went through your body.

"It's because I love him. Typical reaction" You repeated to yourself in your mind.

Every time you felt his hands stroking your hair while you were hugging, you thought about how tightly he gripped that wooden plank with which he cracked the head of the boy in the arena. How the blood spurted onto his snow white shirt from his school uniform. And those eyes. The eyes that always made you feel butterflies in your stomach, and then they seemed so unfamiliar. You thought about how later after the situation at the arena, he tried to approach you, and you took a step back with your eyes wide open in horror.

Of course, he knew. You don't need to read minds to know that. And he was intelligent. He knew right away.

"I know, I know, Coryo. It's just…" you knew that if you continued your voice would break. Besides, you didn't know what to say. You snuggled into his neck hugging him more tightly at the waist. You don't want to hurt him with such thoughts, but they are so intrusive. You can't get them out of your head despite his reassurances, affectionate words and gentle touch. "I'm sorry, I should be there for you, and I'm making everything worse."

You whispered soaking the collar of his shirt with your tears.

His hand went to your hair gently stroking it.

"Stop, it's not your fault."

You stayed like that in each other's embrace, in silence. Words are not important now. What is important is that you are together and nothing will change that.

He will not hurt you. Yes, he won't hurt you.

[p0rk-guts]

"Pork you literally posted Charlie a few days ago why are you so Hazbin obsessed rn-" ssshhhhshhsshhs.h........ anyway

VAGGIE REDESIGN! And I changed her name also bc I'm jus like everyone else fr. Meet Verbena :)

BREAKDOWN BELOW!👇🏾+ Exorcist uniform redesign :3

Starting with her name this time. Back when she was still a sinner apparently she was Salvadorian and since she's (apparently?) not a former human at all I decided to take a small creative liberty with her decent and made her Venezualan instead. SOUTH AMERICUH❗❗✊🏾 I'm pretty sure Verbena flowers are native to South America so that's where the name comes from.

Onto the design! I don't have much to say abt her design honestly. It's not egregious, but it doesn't really speak to me either. It looks like simple formal wear or uniform with some strange meaningless accessories attached. And those weird itty bitty shoes that look like they're part of her thigh highs... I'm starting to think all the characters's shoes were a last minute afterthought. All and all it tells us nothing about her character. The hair wings are cool tho so I did steal those

Also the whole deal with her eye is strange to me. Why Is the floating X there??? It's a real physical part of the world, other people can see it. Do pink X's always float over angel wounds? If her arm got chopped off would an X float over it? Was it like. A fucking curse visual placed by Lute as a constant reminder of her disloyalty? Why did Carmilla point out it was an obvious marker for her being an angel???? My brain can't fathom why it's canonically attached to her wound. If she was a sinner I'd kinda understand but. Yeah idk. Weird

Also her missing eye does not look like an empty socket it looks like a purple circle was sticker pasted on to her face. It's very flat. How did we go from this

to this

(IT'S EVEN OVERLAPPING ONTO HER NOSE IN THIS SCREENSHOT WHAT IS THAT THING.)

Anyway. I made her hair resemble Polyphemus moth wings because 1. They have eye looking spots and angels are all eyes and 2. Well. Polyphemus has 1 eye. So . 💀

Her overall coloring however is inspired by a Promethea moth. I could say it's because Prometheus defied the gods and Verbena did a similar thing but the real reason is I made a spelling error while initially looking for a Polyphemus moth reference 💀 but hey they both have eye spots! And Iike their coloring for her way better

I also redesigned the exorcist uniform for her redesign bc I wanted her outfit to have reminiscent elements from it.

I gave way less time to the uniform designs, but I still had some main details I wanted to adress. I don't like how they have no armor save for their helmets. Their arm and leg pieces are made of some flexible material that tears easily. It's not giving soldier it's giving soldier costume from party city. The devil like horns are also confusing to see on an angel and the paradoxical design is never addressed. They can be evil and look imposing, but the horns just seem kinda nonsensically on the nose to show how evil they are. At least to me.

In my designs I gave them actual metal armor on their bodies so you can easily tell they're soldiers and it makes sense for them to battle in armor anyway. I also gave them more light "angelic" colors with gold details bc I wanna use gold as a symbol of angelic nature in my rewrite. I wanted their masks to show completely static expressions with wide grins to show how unnerving they are and to allude to the idea that everyone is happy in heaven, and they're all happy to do what they do.

Verbena's belt and shoulder pads draw visual similarities to the pauldrons and mid section pieces in my new exorcist uniforms to draw a connection between her and her past. The Blazer draping behind her back is also supposed to mimic the visual of folded wings. I also tried to do this with all the gold details in her design. The big hoops and belt we're 80's inspired because I decided to follow how in one of her old designs she died in the 60's (even had the big hoops and everything). In my rewrite exorcists are all former humans but I'll get into that later. Also she's got an eye patch now! Just. A normal one.

Charlie is still taller than Verbena just like in the original and idk how tall Vaggie Is exactly but Verbena is like 5'5 while Charlie is 5'11. Verbena's also got more muscle on her bc unless their muscle mass is hidden magically or they don't gain muscle for stupid dumb idiot lore reasons all the exorcists look way too slim to be military grade soldiers but what do I know

I combined a lot of pointy shapes with boxy shapes bc— more similarly to her pilot self— she can be volatile and fierce but also grounded and impassive. I added the slits to her skirt so she can be a sexy formal lady who can still comfortably throw a few kicks, and the heels— well. Idk I feel like she could slay in heels! She definitely doesn't wear em all the time but yeah. Chunky heels. I like them they're cute. Also she's got her little name tag on bc she takes Charlie's job for her SERIOUSLY! she's uh. Idk what is she. A bellhop? General security/protection? Either way she's locked in.

I imagine she had white irises like Adam and Lute along with brighter more saturated and heavenly colors in her hair (color picked from the Polyphemus moth) that turned darker and more harsh after the fall (color picked from the Promethea moth). Really visualizing her emo phase /j

Also I think the little eyes in her hair can emote with her. In the final design the line kinda makes an eyelid and it'd match her eyelid's movements. Sillay

Alright that's a wrap on my Vaggie redesign! No bonus sketches this time bc they're within the texts! Who knows what I'll do next. Who I will deface. I sure don't. I think I might rename Charlie so there's that. Anywhozies hope you like her <3

[renthony]

Animation (specifically 2D animation) is my preferred TV/film medium. A piece of live-action has to go above and beyond to get over my personal bias of, "most things would be better if they were animated," but it's taken me a long time to figure out what, exactly, makes a piece of live-action really do it for me.

I think what it really comes down to, for me, is the little details. If your live-action doesn't have some level of nuanced physical acting, intense detailing in costuming and set design, a strong sense of visual storytelling, or kickass practical effects, I'm pretty much always going to come away thinking, "I'd like it better as a cartoon."

I think some of this is due to my issues with face blindness--I need characters to have distinct silhouette and costuming, or they will all blur together in my head. Animation tends to stress the importance of silhouette, so I have an easier time telling everyone apart and following who's who. That's not to say that this problem doesn't happen in animation, or that it always happens in live action, but I do think it contributes to my personal preferences.

Anyway, just for fun, a random shortlist of some live-action that I think uses its medium well:

Child's Play/Chucky. Half the appeal of Chucky (IMHO) is the incredible showcase of practical effects and animatronics. Each incarnation of the Chucky doll incorporates incredible advances in animatronic and puppeteering technology. I have on multiple occasions compared the Chucky puppeteer team to Muppet performers. That shit is its own art form, and it's incredible. The current Chucky show makes some use of CGI, but it's all to enhance the practical effects, and the puppeteers are all given the spotlight in the show's credits. I love that.

Killjoys. The incredible nuance to the actors' body and facial acting is mind-blowing. The set design and costuming are gorgeous, and there's a lot of very good detail worked into the visual space that would be hard to animate. They use their CGI well when they do use it, but a significant amount of the show seems to be practical effects and props. Additionally, Hannah John-Kamen's ability to flawlessly portray multiple characters is so good it's uncanny and makes you forget they're literally being played by the same woman. She changes her entire body language, and it's phenomenal.

Jordan Peele's entire body of horror. His films pack in so much symbolism and subtlety that I could probably watch them all a million times and still find new details. The nuance in the acting, the sheer detail packed into the costuming and set design, the use of color...god. It's unreal.

Crimson Peak, because the set design for that film...holy fuck. The costuming and set design in that film are pure gold. The acting is also phenomenal, but I could probably talk about the set design for hours. The house is a character in its own right.

Galavant and Our Flag Means Death, both for the same reason: both shows feel like I'm hanging out at a ren faire being goofy with my friends. They feel like I'm watching a LARP. They feel like they could easily exist in the same setting as Muppet Treasure Island, and at any second Kermit is going to show up and start singing, and it wouldn't be out of place at all. I think I'd also include Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves in this category, along with The Princess Bride and Labyrinth--all of which also include kickass practical effects, choreography, and costuming.

This isn't some sort of objective truth or anything. I just like that I've finally been able to nail down some reasons why I prefer animation, beyond just, "idk, cartoons are fun."

[ajdahak]

♡ Character : Neteyam x reader

♡ Request : Could you write about neteyam dating a human s/o? How he adores her human features, especially the height difference. Same goes with the reader, she fascinates his little ears and idk but maybe how his tail wags around like a dog when he sees her ABSIDGJASD THAT SOUNDED WEIRD BUT BASICALLY ALL I WANT IS FLUFF 😭😭 Hopefully that makes sense 😅 @justcallmesky

♡ Genre : Fluff

♡ A/N : Heeyyy, sorry again if I take time to write, I try to do my best and be completely satisfied with my work before posting but it’s always difficult, I hope you like what I wrote. English is not the language I speak be indulgent please 🫶🏻

“Can…can I touch your face ?”

The sudden and hesitant request of Neteyam made you look up in his direction.

“You want…to touch my face ?”

You where looking at him with wide eyes, your finger pointing to yourself and mouth slowly agape. Feeling your eyes on him, Neteyam lowered his head, not wanting to show how embarrassed he was.

To be honest, you were rather surprised by his request. He had never asked you to touch your face, it was a simple request and yet you couldn't do anything about the fact that you were embarrassed. Apparently, he took your silence for a negative answer.

“I understand that you don’t want to. I just…Well…it’s been a while since we’ve been together and…I wondered…” He whispered so quietly, making you forgot for an instant about your insecurities. How could you say no to him?

You got up, crossing the room where there was air that you could breathe, you positioned yourself in front of the boy you loved. A smile appeared on his face.

“Of course you can. But why this request ?”

The eldest of the Sully family suddenly seemed embarrassed by this question, fleeing your gaze.

“It’s that..”

Slowly, his hand came into contact with your (h/c) hair, placing a lock at the back of your little ear. You didn’t let go of his eyes.

“Your eyes on me makes me nervous.”

“Oh, sorry! I-”

“No, don’t look away, that’s not what I meant. I like it when you look at me... I find your eyes beautiful.”

For him, your eyes contained in them a galaxy, your tears seemed to be pearled with stars, in any case, even if they seem beautiful in his thoughts, Neteyam will never let them flow.

You blush slightly at this remark, making the boy smile. This did not prevent you from speaking.

“Do you know what I like about you Nete ?” You asked, receiving only an eyebrow raise from him “What looks like freckles on your face.”

You pointed to the white dotted lines that used to light up in the dark.

“I find it beautiful, it’s like I was watching a starry night, but on a face” you laughed at the end of the sentence.

He smiled at your sweet laugh, looking at you with adoration. Your voice resounded like a sweet poem that would be told to children, surely this one in particular who cast a spell of love on him when you met him.

“Your ears are also very cute, it looks like a cat, but your tail reminds me of a dog” especially when you move it when you are happy, you thought for yourself.

“I have... no idea what it looks like.”

“Buuuttt.. I showed you pictures last time !”

Neteyam seemed embarrassed, not remembering it anymore.

“Ahh it’s okay, I’ll show you back another day.”

You put your hands on his cheeks that you loved so much, forcing him a little to lean forward so that you could see him better. When you directly threatened his personal space, the tip of his nose and ears began to heat up without permission, as if he were immersed in a cloud dream, softened by your delicacy. To have even more physical contact, the boy had to hold your hands with his own, caressing the top with his thumb, notifying how pleasant the fabric of your skin was.

“So, why did you want to touch my face ?” You asked again.

“I just wanted to feel the face of the women I love…” he replied, earning a smile from you.

“And do you like it ?”

You asked, surprising him.

“Of course ! Your face is as kind as your heart…” he said sincerely.

Seeing you smile with a radiance that even the sun would wear glasses, the Na’vi smiled in turn, so much his happiness could be felt that one could believe that his teeth emitted light. He let you get closer to his face, everything was going so fast that he did not hit the moment, and here he is with a kiss on the nose of the girl he loves.

“Do you know what I prefer most about you (y/n) ?”

You shook your head negatively, confused. He moistened his lips, and then observed yours. His fingers slipped to your chin, as if they were trying to find their way on your face, which was an enigma on its own. A small gesture of hesitation was understood on his head, then, a gentle pressure from his hand brought your two faces closer, attracting them dangerously.

The contact of your lips was soft, similar to that of the look that could be worn on the moon. With the joints joined, the kiss was no longer than the duration of the shooting star, and like the shooting stars, it offered him an incredible feeling of luck.

“Everything in you seems straight out of a dream. Nga yawne lu oer.”

[kaycode1999]

I wanted to request some head cannons or drabbles for Sun Wukong(LMK) x daughter_of_buddha!reader or just like female_gojo!reader. [ romantically ]

I think it might be funny to see how they interact since neither cares much for rules or gods. Not to mention with the whole buddha putting the golden headband on Sun Wukong thing. Ngl, I feel like they would only meet because of monkie kid( but you can make it so that they knew each other before him).Like reader is a big sister figure for MK. If they do meet and realize who the other is, I think they would fight/spar immediately and it would end up in a tie. IDK

To start off, I think the relationship would be some mix between like Flynn Rider and Rapunzel or Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago.

I do see this going one of two ways though

1.

In the case of the character being a daughter of Buddha, I kind of think Wukong would initially transfer his negative feelings toward Buddha/Sangzang putting the pain crown on him and trapping him in insolation for 500 years onto her and similarly he would assume she is stuck up, unfeeling and snobby ( high and mighty- that kind of thing). So he'd intentionally be a teasing nuisance to her until he eventually comes to his senses and/or realizes that isn't the case.

He and the daughter of Buddha are more snarky with each other than being violent because she loves MK and feels like Wukong will not protect him and be a bad influence. Eventually the two start bonding/finding common ground over not caring about any of the celestial B.S. And shared care for MK

When he does realize she isn't what he thought, he starts to notice some weird things happening. Suddenly he finds himself getting distracted thinking about her, staring at her absent-mindedly whenever she's around, wanting to be around her, and just generally being nicer than he usually is to her and he doesn't know why

She fell first - he fell harder

The worst is when she brings her new boyfriend around. Wukong doesn't understand why but whenever he sees the guy it’s ON SIGHT.

He doesn't actually do anything but the person just makes his blood boil and anyone who knows him well enough can tell whenever the guy is around he gets quiet and pouty like a child

MK is the one who has to explain to him that what he's feeling is jealousy and that he has feelings for Buddha’s daughter

Of course he denies it. And denies it. And denies it. And denies it

That is, until she gets hurt either physically or emotionally. Seeing her in any pain would cause him to realize his feelings, and it sucks because he wants to eviscerate whatever caused it but he might not be able to depending on the circumstances. But if he CAN do something about it, believe me he’ll tear whoever or whatever hurt her to shreds

He doesn't easily admit his feelings but he does eventually

Or

#2

The daughter of Buddha’s character dislikes Wukong because of his past and instantly threatens him out of fear for MK’s safety and Wukong is instantly in love because he sees her as strong and beautiful

*basically this*

Wukong constantly shamelessly and blatantly flirts with her who in turn makes it clear she dislikes him

That is, until she spends more time around him and sees how much he truly cares for MK and also gets to know him better

All of a sudden she starts noticing how attractive he is and though he does have flaws he does have a nice personality

*he fell first- she fell harder*

She is very pissed to realize she’s fallen for the monkey king at first. However, she can't keep from acting different around him because she's nervous about him finding out and he picks up on this immediately

Initially, he worries he's done something wrong or overstepped some boundary he was unaware of and so he asks about it

She denies anything being different and doesn't want to say anything to him because she believes he doesn't truly feel anything special towards her- surely he flirts with any girl he sees right?

He lets it go for a while until he can't stand it anymore and confronts her about it and that's how her feelings come out

I might do actual fanfics about this in the future but for now I just wanted to do the head cannons

P.S. Thank you! This was super fun 😊

[sailorrhansol]

One in the Grave | 01

❀ Pairing: Vampire!Vernon x Dhampir!Reader (f) 

❀ Summary: Immortal problems require immortal solutions, but you never expected the unlikely help from a vampire lord and the destruction that might come with it. 

❀ Series Word Count: 8,143

❀ Genre: Supernatural, Dystopian,

❀ Type: Unlikely allies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Chapter Warnings: My baby girl has PTSD!!! Very much forgetting where she is sometimes and thinking she’s back in The Bad Place, mentions of past torture and abuse (recalls someone breaking her bones over and over), mentions of mind control/compulsion, mentions of murder, gross ass vampires being killed grossly and sometimes the word choice is icky like did I need to use the word sinew? No but I did. A lot of references to Trauma and Being Traumatized, Jeonghan is funny but also diabolical about said Trauma, lots of blood because this is a vampire fic, fight scenes that idk if they make sense, mentions of disease, like hints of mentions of there being like DiRtY bLoOd classism what else… reader hates herself and it’s Saur Obvious. Reader sort of has an accidental terminator setting when she gets too into fighting and goes Sicko Mode and punches through a vampires chest to rip its heart out idk thats kind graphic

❀ A/N: This chapter took me forever to write because I re-wrote sections so many times, but I'm finally happy with where I ended up. I deviated from my outline almost immediately, but this beginning to this story feels more natural than the original! I am so excited to be writing this and to take you on a very dramatic journey through this vampiric, dystopian world.

A/N 2: Huge thank you to the best beta team a girlie can ask for in @daechwitatamic and @eoieopda because without them, so much of this would not make sense.

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

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I need not fear the dark. I need not fear the pain. In the dark, I was made. In pain, I become anew. I am the Grim. 

Darkness seeps from the damp walls next to you. The air is foul and wet, leaving a sour taste on your tongue, nearly cloying the back of your throat. There’s no part of the Undercity that isn’t dripping with rot. It clings to your boots as you slip through the tunnels, settling on your skin as you turn a corner.

Water drips in several of the tunnels. You can hear the soft splash as the drops hit the puddles, the only sound in the deep dark. You frown - you know you’re not alone. The underground paths leading to the heart of the Undercity might seem empty, but they are never what they appear to be.

On instinct, you take a left. Even in the dark, you can see the general lay of the land, a complex network of abandoned, vampire-made passageways under the city of Black Harbor. The tunnels go farther than the city walls, stretching beneath the human districts in the Tombstones and ending at random stop points in the Wilds. 

Another left and you’ll be heading east toward the coast. Even the old vampires would lose their way in the tunnels - everything looks and smells the same. You’re not one of them, though, and you’ve learned these tunnels by heart. Could navigate them even without your sharp vision. 

A wet step catches your attention. You stop and crouch low, looking ahead. Dark shapes blend together. Even with enhanced vision, you can only see so far in the Undercity, the general darkness blending together. 

But you can hear. 

Another wet step catches your ears. You close your eyes and focus on the sounds. The steady drip drip drip of the pipes brackets the sound of a soft hissing - not hissing. Sniffing. Scenting.

Without wind in the Undercity, you don’t have to worry about the breeze carrying your scent. Still, the things lurking in the dark, especially recently, are better at smelling the difference between what’s alive and what’s dead. You straddle the line between, but you’re alive enough. 

Slowly, your hand reaches up behind your back, grasping the leather handle of your blade. The scenting stops and you hear a soft grinding sound, like teeth gnashing, followed by slow steps. You pull your blade out the rest of the way, twisting it in your hand and taking a slow, deep breath. 

The steps stop for a moment - and then something is running, the wet slap deafening in the silence of the tunnels. You poise yourself, leaning a little forward, ready to throw your weight into your strike. You’ll need to be fast.

Out of the darkness, a loping humanoid shape appears. The Rabid looks more or less human from a distance, but as it gets closer, you see everything wrong with it: crimson eyes as a result of broken blood vessels, bulging veins as a result of swelling before the host died, rows of serrated teeth, and twitching, dislocated limbs.

Nothing about a Rabid is human. Nothing about a Rabid is really a vampire, either. Though they’re a vampire species, they lack the fundamental ability for cognitive function, and are thus only driven by the need to feed insatiably. 

Human-shaped but twisted by post-mortem metamorphosis, whatever person they used to be before Red Fever infected them and killed them is gone. In the place of what used to be a person is a genderless cryptid with muscular, half-rotted bodies and nails like talons. They’re more bedtime story monsters than they are anything else, and you’re running around their home in the dark. 

The feral hunger works in your favor. The Rabid misses on its first swing as you duck, throwing your weight into your thrust as you plunge the sword through the creature’s abdomen. It screams, striking at you again but you’re already moving, keeping your momentum going as you pull the weapon with you, the sucking sound of the blade pulling from its stomach sickening. 

It isn’t the worst sound you’ve heard, and you don’t let it stop you as you spin on your heel, slicing wickedly at the Rabid’s head. It ducks, though, sensing the attack as it scrambles away from you, curling inward as it bleeds from the middle. The wound won’t kill it, but making them bleed is key.

Blood is imperative to a Rabid’s strength. The more blood they’ve ingested recently, the stronger they are. Severing limbs and damaging the heart that pumps blood through the system - or removing it entirely - is important. 

The creature turns to face you again. You spin the blade, point it toward the Rabid and take a wide stance, one foot forward and one foot backward with your weight centered on the back foot. Any other foe with a thinking, calculating sense would try to assess. The Rabid does not, driving forward again with a snarl, jaw extending beyond a normal human’s with the intention to bite down wherever it can. 

Spinning to the side, your sword arm follows your momentum, coming down hard on the back of the Rabid’s neck. You hear the crack of bone as it cuts, your sword carving easily. The head separates from the rest of the body, thudding against the wet floor of the tunnel. 

There’s no time to worry about burning the body yet. More hisses slither up the tunnel and the wet slap of feet rushing toward you is warning enough that other Rabids have been alerted. 

That’s fine. You step away from the slain beast and face the source of the noise, taking your stance again, muscles coiled, heart pounding as your blood rushes. You feel the adrenaline mount, hitting your system like a high, pulse throbbing, focus narrowing.  

Kill. Kill. 

The impulse is fleeting, there and gone again. You grimace and swallow down the instinct to fall into a blind rage. Using bloodlust to fuel your fighting is a side effect of how you’ve been conditioned and taught - one you’re trying to get rid of. It might make you fight better, but it’s hard to escape the undercurrent of the frenzy once you let it pull you under. 

They charge, hissing and snarling as they go. There is nothing planned or in sync about their attack. Rabids may sometimes linger near one another or nest together, but there’s no pack mentality, no strategy to the way they move. It makes it easy to take them down, but easy to get overwhelmed if there are too many.

Three isn’t bad. You cut through them with concise, sharp movements. Fighting Rabids isn’t like fighting sentient creatures. It’s not a dance, but there is a chopping rhythm to it, a hack and step that feels like a pattern as you go. 

Step step slash. Step step stab. Step step duck. Step step slash. 

When it’s done, sweat beads at the back of your neck. Silence falls in the damp passageways of the Undercity. You stand, hardly winded with your sword dripping in ichor, looking down both of the hallways that bracket you on either side. 

Nothing else comes. 

You flick your sword hand, freeing it from some of the gore before digging into one of your pockets, fishing out a small bottle and cloth. Carefully you uncap the bottle and tilt your blade point down, pommel near your face. You squeeze liquid out over the metal, hearing the hiss as the antiseptic eats at the foul blood on the weapon before stoppering and putting it back in your pocket. 

With delicacy, you wipe the cloth on the flat of the blade, cleaning it. Sheathing the blade, you reach into another pocket, pulling out a small tablet of firestarter. You snap it in half and toss it onto the pile of bodies, flames catching immediately. 

The sudden light makes your vision flash white for just a moment before it adjusts. The darkness hovers at the edge of the light like a hungry, creeping thing. In the firelight, you see the dispatched bodies of the dead, once victims to the virus that killed them and turned them into the mindless, frenzied creatures that lurk in the Undercity tunnels and the Wilds. 

Not even the rats come down here. At least, the uninfected ones don’t. Even a rat makes a good meal for the feral creatures of the Undercity. 

There was a time when you would have fed on the rats in the Undercity. A time you were so hungry, you gave into your primal instincts. A time when you were so hungry for love and approval from your master that you would do - and did - anything for it. Giving into bloodlust when fighting and becoming a mindless tool was easy, back then. 

Fresh air greets you as you climb the rusty, iron ladder to the surface. It’s cold outside, autumn wind stinging the sweat on the back of your neck when you finally pull yourself out of the hole and flip the heavy, metal lid over one of many entrances to the Undercity. 

An empty quad of an abandoned school surrounds you, crumbling brick buildings empty save for rotted furniture and dust, walls blown in and cracked from some skirmish during The Fall. The schoolyard grass is overgrown, brushing against your hips as you begin your routine, movements down to a science. 

First, you pull the bottle of antiseptic out of your pocket and clean your hands before pulling out cleaning supplies from your pack. Then, you pull off all your clothes, cool air making the hair on your arms stand on end. The cold gets worse when you begin to wipe your skin with sticky antiseptic pads, tossing them into a pile on the ground as you go. 

The routine is robotic. Disinfect. Take off your clothes. Disinfect. Put on new clothes. Disinfect. Put old clothes in a bio-safe bag to clean them later and burn the wipes. 

Getting the virus isn’t likely for you, but you never take the chance, especially living in the human districts on the outskirts of the city. Red Fever hasn’t plagued the mortal population in a few years, but a single outbreak could make the community collapse.

And the vampires in the city wouldn’t help. They never do, even as those living under their jurisdiction get picked off by Rabids, vampires undermining the law, and other things lurking in the ruins just outside of Black Harbor. 

No blood tax, no protection.

The sentiment makes you grit your teeth as you watch the antiseptic wipes turn to flames, then to embers, then to ashes. You can smell the fumes fade with the wind, along with the sound of a soft footfall. 

You wheel around, unsheathing the weapon at your feet as you spin, pointing the tip of your blade at the figure behind you. Jeonghan seems unphased, looking down the sharp edge of the sword with a lopsided grin. 

“Sloppy, little sister.”

“Oh fuck you.” Your muscles unclench and you spin the weapon, sheathing it. Jeonghan’s hands are in his pockets, eyes twinkling as he watches you. “What do you want?” 

“I can’t check up on you?”

“Not usually, no.”

Jeonghan doesn’t check up on you. At least, not in the way you imagine normal siblings might. Jeonghan isn’t a normal sibling, though. He’s hardly a sibling at all - you share a bloodsire, not a biological parent. Blood kin would be a more apt term for the familial bond between you.

Still, when you think back on your life, Jeonghan has always been there. Fills the corners of your memories as a steady hand, a vicious thorn in your side, a confidant, an enemy, a rival.

“You like visiting the Undercity these days. Perhaps I, too, am nostalgic.” 

“I don’t visit for nostalgia,” you snap. You strap the sword belt across your chest, the weight against your back a great comfort. “Don’t goad me.” 

Jeonghan looks the same as he always has in the last hundred or some odd years. He’d stopped aging - as most dhampirs do - sometime in his thirties. His round, youthful face, and gentle eyes hide the demon within. Hundreds have fallen prey to Jeonghan’s saccharine smile and false, gentle disposition. 

Wolf in lamb’s clothing. 

“You’re no fun. Junhui is so much nicer to me when I visit.”

“Jun is nice to everyone.” 

“Maybe you should take notes. Your neighbors might like you more.” You pause, looking at him with narrowed eyes. His grin spreads. “You think I don’t know where you live?” 

“What do you want?” 

“I need your assistance.” 

“Doubt it.”

“Not everyone is a monster-slaying machine like you are. Some of us actually take the time to enjoy our freedom.”

Freedom. 

A word you don’t quite understand. You might have gotten rid of the master holding your leash, but her influence is still heavy enough to control everything you do, even now. Freedom doesn’t exist for someone like you. Not really. You’re shackled by your inability to make your own choices, and the only things you’re good at are the things Lilith made you learn. 

I need not fear the dark. I need not fear the pain. In the dark, I was made. In pain, I become anew. I am the Grim. 

Most of your life has been spent in the service of killing your blood mother’s enemies, helping her carve her empire out in the world left over from the destruction of humankind. You’d also helped defeat her, but the absolution of ridding the world of her is not nearly enough to wipe out the long list of foul deeds to your name.

“You don’t have to help me.” Jeonghan’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. “However, I do not like the idea of going into a Rabid nest alone.”

“You want my help with a Rabid nest? Why?”

“There’s something inside of the building that a client needs. Some Rabids happen to have made it a home.”

You study him. He’s dressed in all-black dress pants and a black button-up, an equally black blazer thrown on over it. Jeonghan looks the part of casual elegance, a fine piece of art that is out of place in the middle of the abandoned bones of what was once a school, you think.

“Why me?”

“I need a weapon.” His mouth quirks. “Plus, I like you.”

“No, you don’t.” 

“I do! You’re my favorite sister.” 

“I’m the only sister you have that’s still alive.”

He holds up a finger to present his counterargument. “I killed our last sister but I haven’t killed you. If that’s not favoritism, what is?” 

You walk past him, heading toward Black Harbor. “I want half of whatever you’re being paid.”

“Thirty percent.” 

“Thirty-five.”

“Deal.”

Jeonghan catches up to you easily, hands still tucked into his pockets in that casual way of his. His hair is a little longer than you remember, tucked behind his ears as he smiles, happy to have you onboard for whatever it is he’s roped you into. 

It isn’t the first time he’s sought you out for assistance - especially for killing - and you know it won’t be the last. Of all your blood kin, Jeonghan is the one who keeps in contact with you the most. Junhui might be sweet and fond of you, as is his way, but you’re too volatile for him, made to be loved at a distance. 

None of your siblings love you, though. You don’t think any of the children of Lilith have the ability to love. It was bred out of you early and punished if it tried to crawl back in. Even loyalty to anyone but your master in the Undercity was punished. 

Neither of you asks how the other is. Jeonghan won’t answer you honestly and you suspect he knows exactly how you’ve been. The not-so-retired spymaster has a network of little spiders in his web, scrambling back and forth to feed him information on any number of people. 

You wonder if this is what freedom means to him. After living his entire life in the service of your shared sire, Jeonghan seems to have mastered his destiny, using the skills he was taught to climb the ranks among the vampires of Black Harbor and sit pretty. Still, in a way, he’s reverted to old habits just like you have, buying and selling secrets to keep himself safe like he did in the old days.

Maybe freedom is an illusion. 

The blasted landscape around you doesn’t change as you walk eastward. Nameless buildings and road structures spread out in either direction. Cracked, broken, and decayed is an apt description for most things outside of the city, especially the closer you get to the Wild. 

You turn northeast, heading toward the bridge that leads into Black Harbor. It’s roughly an hour's walk directly into the city from the abandoned schoolyard where you entered the Undercity. It isn’t the only entrance to the underground network, nor is it the closest, but it’s the most reliable and you don’t have to worry about anyone sneaking up on you.

Unless they’re a former resident themself, which are in rare numbers. 

“Where is this Rabid nest?” you ask as the night deepens. The cool air kisses the back of your neck and lifts strands of Jeonghan’s inky hair. Above, the moon is swollen and momentarily hidden behind thick clouds. 

“The old museum right outside the West End.” 

You glance sideways at him. “That museum was an epicenter of outbreaks. No wonder there’s a nest.” 

“Good thing we’re immune then, hmm?”

“We’re not immune, Jeonghan. Resistant and immune aren’t the same thing.” 

He shrugs his shoulders. “I survived the disease for two hundred years in the Undercity. And you have your nice little disinfectant wipes, don’t you?” Jeonghan pauses and looks you up and down, pointing at the ashes of your burnt pile. “Why do you do that, by the way? To protect that fragile little human community you live in?”

Yes, you want to say. Instead, you say nothing at all. Jeonghan might be half-human like you, but he has little empathy for them in general, unlike you. He tends to align himself with whoever he benefits the most from, and the humans have certainly never been in a position to help him out. 

Not that they would. Most humans don’t assign a difference between vampires and dhampir. Your human neighbors might tolerate your presence, but it’s just that - tolerance. As soon as they feel threatened by you, they’ll hire someone to try and kill you, as is the way in the Tombstones.  

Jeonghan scoffs. “Glad to see you haven’t lost your sentiment.”

“Rather auspicious for you, wouldn’t you say brother?” 

He grins but doesn’t respond, tilting his head up toward the sky. 

Gravel crunches beneath your feet. You keep a sweeping gaze on the quiet world around you. Crickets quiet as you pass, waiting until you’re out of range before taking up their song again. When the clouds move away from the moon, the world turns grey. 

Nothing disturbs the two of you on your walk. You spot a feral pack of cats with sharp eyes watching from the long grass. You can sense them assessing you, deciding if you’re prey or predator. They remain in their clutch of darkness. Predator, then. 

Jeonghan doesn’t strike up a conversation again as you walk. Instead of trying to get him to divulge details, you go through what you know about the old museum near the West End. It was a hot spot for breakouts early on during The Fall, and after Black Harbor became a city-state, it remained an issue under the jurisdiction of the Chwe family for years. 

A center of resources, it had been targeted early on as humans tried to build communities and safeholds in a rapidly apocalyptic world. The museum has the space to house the  resources, and protection that people brought to form a community, turning it into a quarantine zone at the very start of The Fall. Any building large enough to house a community center had people flocking to build safe zones, eager to recommission the square footage and walls into quarantined housing and living centers.

And they fell just as quickly. 

Disease has no consideration for isolation, though. Particularly one as contagious and debilitating as Red Fever. In most cases, people killed themselves once they realized they had the fever. Suffering through the hemorrhaging and the madness wasn’t worth the small chance of turning into a vampire post-death, and carriers were too dangerous to be kept alive anyway. Accusations of sickness were as deadly as catching the virus itself. 

The museum still remained a problem even after the collapse of its original community. Humans like to stick to what they know, rebuilding on old ground and trying to salvage what was left before them. Perhaps the human communities there could have flourished if the guard in the West End did anything to keep the Rabids and the rogue bands of vampires from decimating them, but anything outside of the official city limits of Black Harbor was only under the jurisdiction of the Chwe family, not the protection.

Those who wanted to be saved had to pay the blood tax, and most people weren’t even eligible for the blood tax, as picky as the vampires were with their qualifications and standards for clean, safe blood. 

Salt tinged the air as you approached the official demarcation line of the Tombstones. It wasn’t an official name, but there was no point in giving it a real name - it was expendable ground, as far as Lord Chwe and his family were concerned. 

Old, rusted piles of metal were pushed to the edges of the pavement to make way for the few operational vehicles that dared to travel outside of the city, creating the illusion that the road was lined by dead, decayed beetles. 

Sounds from the city drift over the water and toward you. Lights in the distance glitter over the wall, skyscrapers bright against the dark swath of sky. The dichotomy between visions of human destruction and vampiric ascension always strikes you, the discordant images the perfect depiction of your two worlds.

“Why don’t you visit Jun anymore?” Jeonghan’s question catches you off guard. You tear your eyes away from the shimmering city to look at the dhampir next to you. His hands are still tucked in his pocket, the picture of cool and casual. 

“I don’t think he wants me to.” 

Jeonghan frowns. “That seems unlikely.” 

“I assumed I reminded him too much of ho- of the Undercity.” 

“I still think of it as home too, sometimes.” You don’t answer for a moment, unsure where the conversation is leading. Jeonghan is a storm of unpredictability, his desires changing direction with the wind. “Is it because you feel guilty?” 

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who wants my help.”

“I’m in the business of asking questions, little sister. Consider it the desire to see my siblings happy. One seems dead set on never shedding the victimhood of her past and one is too afraid to tell his siblings he’s lonely out of fear of rejection.” 

You ignore the barb. “Good. Loneliness is temporary. He’s better off without me around.”

He makes a sound of disgust. “You were always such a self-righteous wretch. Spare me the I have done evil and should avoid the world speech.” 

“You asked me!” 

“I thought after fifty years you might be less insufferable!” He shoots back, taking his hands out of his pocket to throw them up. “I should have known better. Now come on, if you’re so hellbent on living your life in permanent apology, you can come kill these Rabids for me.”

“I’m insufferable?” 

Irritation shoots through you as Jeonghan speeds up, ignoring your question. The wind is stronger near the coast, ripping at the end of his blazer and lifting his hair. You scowl behind him, fists clenching and aching to punch him in the back of the head.

Jeonghan thinks everything is so easy. You’ve never known him to feel things as trivial as guilt or empathy, able to rationalize his way out of feeling a modicum of responsibility for anything he does. 

So why do you help him? You always find yourself asking the same question every time he appears with a task or to poke at you. The answer, you think, is simple enough: he’s a constant. He was there when you were born, he was there when you were molded, and he was there when you suffered. 

Suffered together. 

Despite the way Jeonghan trivializes your grief, there are few people left in the world who can relate to you. Junhui shares the same past, but you don’t know how to face him. Don’t know how to look the gentlest of your siblings in the eye without feeling like you’re reminding him of everything he’s suffered.

And Jeonghan’s presence is comforting, in a way. The familiarity makes you feel easy, though dealing with him is anything but. 

You don’t know whether he feels the same sense of attachment to you or not. You’re unsure most days whether he sticks his nose in your business for the brief familiarity of it or because he considers you an asset to his growing power. 

The latter is the most likely. 

Wind scatters leaves across the pavement. Ahead, the museum looms like a skeleton bathed grey in the night. Somewhere, metal groans and creaks as it moves in the breeze. It makes you think of a phantom moaning, a shiver sliding down your spine as Jeonghan walks straight for the doors of the building. 

The doors to the museum are shattered. Glass and gravel crack beneath Jeonghan’s feet as he climbs the steps and stops just beyond the entryway, his hands tucked into his pocket as he cranes his neck upward to assess the full scope of the building. 

You pause next to him. You inhale again. You don’t get much of a scent on anything but the ocean air, but it doesn’t mean there’s not something deep in the guts of the building. 

“Well?” you ask, looking at Jeonghan. “Do you know where in this building you need to look? It’s pretty large.” 

“Hall of Human Life.”

“That’s… ironic.”

His grin is beatific. “Shall we?” 

As someone who frequents a variety of abandoned buildings, you’ve always been of the opinion that all empty buildings have the same dead, empty feel to them. You’ve long thought that none was more or less creepy than the others, but now you know you were decidedly incorrect. 

There is something haunting about the museum. Evidence of human life is everywhere as you pass destroyed exhibits on life and science, but also sections you can tell were made for the communities that tried to set up here. 

Sections of the building had been remade to house living quarters and even what appears to be a botanical section. Untended, the plant life has consumed the west end of the building, mostly weeds and unuseful vines stretching their fingers across cracked tiled and concrete. 

Your swordhand flexes, ready to reach behind your back at a moment’s notice. You don’t hear or smell Rabids, but you come across the evidence of them soon enough - scattered bones and human carcasses, rotted blood stains on the floors and steps as you descend deeper into the darkness of the building. 

It’s hard to discern what any of the exhibits used to be. Time and civilization have erased all but the bones of each, leaving you to guess what they are as you pass. You’re about to ask Jeonghan if he has any idea where the Hall of Human Life is when you smell it.

“Blood,” you murmur, hand going to your blade and pulling it silent from the sheath. “East.” 

He glances at you and sniffs. “I don’t smell anything.” 

“You aren’t a trained bloodhound.” 

You’d trust Jeonghan if he were profiling someone and detailing every part of their life, psychology and desires. His skill has always been of a manipulation and information collecting sort, not the hunting and stick-a-knife-in-someone sort. 

He follows you silently, slipping a deadly throwing star from his sleeve. You raise a brow. “I’m surprised you're armed.”

“I’m always armed, little sister.”

The sound of something snapping catches your attention and you hold out your hand, stopping him. Even he knows to obey you here. You listen and hear the sounds of crunching. Something breaking. Chewing, you realize. It is the sound of bones being snapped and the grind of teeth. 

For a second, you’re not in the museum anymore. You’re in a dark room, the snap of bone sharp and loud against your ears. The sensation is worse than the sound, though. You feel the bolt of sharp, uncontrolled pain shoot through your leg from your thigh to your hip. It is agonizing, stopping you from thinking of anything else but the outrageous pulse of pain. 

Your hand shoots to your thigh, feeling the phantom pressure of the foot as it fractures your femur again, the sneered voice telling you to stop your screaming as it steps down again, broken bone stabbing-

Jeonghan’s voice startles you. “You’re not there.”

Glancing to the side, you see Jeonghan watching you. His expression is unreadable, dark eyes pinning you to the place you stand. You realize your hand is hovering over your leg and you swear you feel the ghost of pain from the break. From the sound of the snap. 

You don’t remember Jeonghan being there for that. Lilith had ordered Silas to break your bones over and over again. To make you used to the pain. To rebreak them when they healed. If you were ever captured and tortured, you needed to know pain. It needed to be an old friend, not something that could break you. 

Then again, you’re sure Jeonghan’s been broken too. All of your siblings have known the torture of Silas, the perfect tool of to train Lilith’s children to develop no fear against pain. 

There’s a flicker of kinship with Jeonghan until he mutters, “Experience trauma on your own time. I need you focused.”

Right. You’re here to help him do a job for money, not because you’re spending time together bonding as blood kin. When you really think about it, little adventures full of violence are the way you two often bond, even when you were under the thumb of Lilith. 

Instead of shooting an insult at him, you creep forward, knees slightly bent and ready to spring. He follows you, a lithe shadow as you slip into the darkness.

Blood permeates the air in the underground level of the museum. At the foot of an unlit staircase, you step into a lobby of sorts. There are multiple metal, double doors leading into a room beyond. Over the doorway is a broken sign with missing letters: all man Li. 

You snort and Jeonghan gives you a questioning look. You point toward the letters with your sword and whisper, “All man lie. All men lie.”

“Poetic. I suppose it was once Hall of Human Life.” You nod. “Rather inconvenient.” 

Here, the sounds of multiple mouths chewing on flesh is louder. Wetter. You grimace and hope that the victims were dead long before they were dragged back to be made a meal of. Most Rabids won’t bring food back to a nest, too hungry and eager to eat right when they kill.

Blood is heavy in the air. Jeonghan’s nose flares and you know he smells it too. The scent is sweet like mulled wine with a hint of underlying fruit. Human. They always smelled sweet to you, something about them fragrant. A flicker of hunger burns through you and then is snuffed out. You don’t need blood and you don’t want it, especially with no way of knowing where it’s been or who it's from. 

Getting infected doesn’t matter to Rabids. They’ve already suffered Red Fever and died, turning into  mindless, feral vampires. To you, making sure you don’t contaminate yourself will be important, no matter how high your tolerance to the disease is. 

Jeonghan taps his wrist as though he’s wearing a watch. You hold out a hand to tell him to be patient. You don’t know how many Rabids are on the other side of the doors, but from the grunting and amount of blood you can smell, you think it’s at least five. Maybe more. 

Freshly fed Rabids will be a bitch to fight. You’ve never been inside the Hall of Human Life, but you don’t like the idea of walking into the nest blind and trying to fight without knowing how much space you have to fight. You also don’t want to fight where they have access to blood when they need it. 

You settle on an idea, though you don’t like it much. 

“Do you know what you’re looking for?” He doesn’t answer, side eyeing you. “I just need to know how long you think it will take once you’re in the room.” 

“I know what I’m looking for.” 

“Great. Go hide in that far corner by the bathrooms.”

He frowns. “Why - what are you doing?” 

Without a second thought, you bring your free hand up to the sword and run your palm across it. You barely feel the sting of the cut, watching as the blood pools in your palm, welling up. 

Silence. 

Jeonghan realizes it too, bolting from the foot of the stairs to the dark corner of the lobby and into the bathrooms just as the sound of hissing rises up behind the doors. You take a step backward, foot on the bottom stair as you watch the door. You need the Rabids to frenzy and hunt you  - you should be able to make it to the main lobby or outside, giving you room to fight and -

They burst through the doors. You turn on your heel and jump, clearing the steps easily. They’re snarling behind you, tripping over themselves as they chase after the scent of live, fresh blood. 

You squeeze your fist as you go, making sure to keep them on your trail while you tear through the museum the way you came. It has the desired effect, working up the monsters into a violent mania as they close in on you. 

Looking over your shoulder to see how many of them isn’t an option. You just keep running, nearing the front of the museum as you take a corner, skidding as you go. The front doors are just ahead, the moonlit world just beyond. You pump your legs harder, tearing over the concrete floor.

Just as you vault over the threshold of the door, something hits you from the side. The force is jarring, your teeth snapping together in an explosion of pain as you hit the ground, sword slipping from your grasp. You barely manage to avoid cracking your head on concrete.

Instinct takes over. You thrust a hand forward, catching the Rabid by the throat as it gnashes its teeth at you. The others are at the door now, screaming and howling like a savage pack of wolves. Even dazed, you find the sense to throw your weight against the creature, rolling over and throwing it off of you.

Your attacker hits the steps but scrambles back toward you. It doesn’t matter. You only need a moment to roll and collect your discarded sword, swiveling on a knee as it lurches at you. Steel connects with flesh and severs the head easily. 

There’s no time to celebrate. You dive from the stairs, careful not to stab yourself in the stomach as another Rabid swings a clawed hand at you. Panting, you get to your feet, turning to face them as you skip backward toward the street. 

Ten Rabids fan out on the steps, but they pause their attack. You grip your sword, waiting for them to keep the feral pursuit. Instead, they seem to be waiting for something, swiveling their heads and looking around. 

You don’t like that. Rabids don’t hunt in packs, despite sometimes sharing a nest, and the image of them all hesitating together in sync is alarming. Worse, you realize they’re starting to make sounds, an intonation deep in their throat that almost reminds you of frogs in the rain during summer. Their heads pivot, looking at you and then looking at one another as they softly call to one another like they’re… talking. 

A chill runs through you. You’ve never seen them talk before, and certainly not before attacking. They should be in a blood frenzy, killing each other to get to you, even. 

One of them lets out the loudest shriek you’ve ever heard, your ears ringing. You nearly drop your sword in surprise. You take several steps back, suddenly unsure of your situation. 

The Rabids begin to slink down the steps. As they do, a figure appears on the roof, its shadow dark against the brightness of the moon. For a split second you think it might be Jeonghan, but then it leaps, flying over the heads of the skulking Rabids to land only a few feet away from you.

“What the fuck are you?” you mutter, pointing your sword at it. 

And it is an it. You have no idea what it is. The creature looks like a Rabid. It has blotchy skin where the fever bursted capillaries and blood red eyes, but it stands straighter than Rabids, eerily still, regarding you - and there’s a crude sword at its hip. 

You’ve never seen them carry weapons before - they shouldn’t know how to use them. They were named Rabids because they lack the function of their frontal and parietal lobes, making them lesser vampires that can only operate on base animal instinct, driven entirely by the vampiric nature to consume. 

Rabids communicating is alien enough, but carrying a sword? You have no idea if it knows how to use the weapon, but when it unsheathes the sword and takes a stance, you can’t help but feel a tiny pulse of doubt. It uses that moment to attack, striking forward stiffly as though to gut you. 

At the same time, the non-intelligent Rabids attack. Cursing, you dodge the stab and run, trying to put distance between you. The leader stalks after you, weapon in hand; its gait smoother than the broken movements typical of the species but not exactly fast. 

One of the non-intelligent ones gives chase to your flight, giving in to bloodlust. You face it and sidestep easily, bring your sword down on the back of its neck as you do. It cleaves cleanly, blood spraying upward. Two more of them lose their grip on logic and follow suit, only to join their slain nestmate on the ground.

The leader snarls angrily - not at you but at the other Rabids. They chatter and skitter back, letting the one with the sword take charge again, flanking it like they’ve been chastised. 

You keep your weapon pointed at the leader. They attack together again. This time, you’re ready for it, meeting your opponent’s blow. The ring of metal echoes and you feel the force of the hit vibrate down your arm. You don’t let it stop your momentum, leaning to plant a hard kick in one of the other’s chests.

A rib cage cracks. You don’t stop. You duck under a claw and parry another attack, always moving, always fluid. You dispose of another Rabid before blocking another sword swing.

With a growl, you push your weight into the block, surging against the lead Rabid. It’s not a good swordsman, and though its reflexes are better than its wild counterparts, you shove the lead Rabid several feet away from you, tripping it up and sending it careening. You can’t take the opportunity to finish it off as the non-intelligent Rabids press in. Thankfully one gets too close and you cut through its neck.

Something zings past your head, hitting one of the remaining creatures in the throat. It cuts through easily, the body and head falling in separate directions. You turn around to see Jeonghan on the stairs, silver shurikens flashing in his hands. 

“Your friend has a sword,” he calls, looking at the intelligent Rabid and pointing. “How did it get a sword?” 

“Let me ask,” you call back. Some of the Rabids slink toward your brother, splitting up to fight both threats. “Hey, where did you get the sword?”

The lead Rabid doesn’t answer. “He didn’t say!” you shout back to Jeonghan over your shoulder. “Should I ask in Lilin or-”

The lead Rabid cuts you off as it attacks, swinging blindingly fast, grunting as it does. It manages to strike your ribcage, sword too dull to pierce skin but you feel the rupture of blinding pain as it breaks your ribs. A wild shriek of rage escapes your throat as you stumble away from it, gasping. 

Breathing hurts, the stabbing ache stunning you for a second. The Rabid seems to be satisfied - if they can feel at all - and it enrages you. Better creatures and fighters have never landed a blow on you, and a thoughtless creature catching you off guard is…

Shameful. 

If this were another time, you’d have been beaten for this kind of embarrassment. Letting a less skilled opponent get the jump on you because you were joking is unacceptable. The shame quickly gives way to anger. Anger gives way to wrath. Your shaking hands still suddenly, and you feel your rage center your focus to a needle-thin point. 

You’re no longer in the middle of the street fighting a nest of Rabids. Now, you’re in the cold undertow of something you try to never let out, that you try to keep buried down deep within you. 

Kill kill kill.

Metal meets metal. You barely remember lifting your sword to attack, slamming your weapon down into the lead Rabid’s sword so hard that the beast makes a sound of surprise, dancing away from you a few feet. You stride toward it, undeterred, a vice grip on your weapon as you stalk forward. 

Kill kill kill.

Another blow sends your opponent's sword flying. You don’t follow through with your weapon. Instead, you punch forward with your free hand, barely feeling the crack of bone against bone. You break through muscle and sinew, feel the scrape of ribs as your fist bursts through the lead Rabid’s chest. 

Its heart only pulses for a moment in your hand, throbbing faster than your own heartbeat. The lead Rabid doesn’t move, body frozen as the source needed to pump its blood is suddenly gone. It dies on your arm, the deadweight pulling your limb down as you slide it off of you. 

Kill kill kill.

You turn and see Jeonghan fighting admirably despite being outnumbered. You prowl toward the Rabids, hissing and drawing the attention of the ones closest to you as you go. 

You hate them. You want to destroy them. You want to win and kill and-

One leaps at you and you cleave downward. It isn’t an elegant swing, but it’s efficient and strong. Blood wets your skin and you swing again, hearing metal meet flesh. A high-pitched whining rings in your ears. You taste ichor in your mouth but you don’t care, sliding to a knee as you cut through the leg of a Rabid. It goes down and you follow through with the neck. 

Kill kill kill. 

You hack through its neck again. And again and again and again.

Suddenly the Rabid isn’t a Rabid. It’s a cherub face with red painted lips and sleepy, green eyes. It’s apple cheekbones and pearly fangs. It’s silky auburn hair and the smell of sugar and vanilla. 

Lilith. 

You hack again and again and again. 

Kill kill kill. 

If you don’t kill her, she’ll own you forever. It has to be permanent, but making it permanent is so hard. Her command to spare her burns through you, liquid hell in your veins as she says your name, over and over and over, trying to grip your thoughts and -

Someone shouts your name. 

The memory fades. You aren’t killing Lilith and you aren’t in the palace of the Undercity. You’re not a scared little dhampir trying to claw her way free from mind control. But you are covered in blood and your thoughts are a little hazy as you look up, dazed. 

Jeonghan stands a few feet away from you. Right. Jeonghan. Jeonghan is here with you and you are helping him retrieve something from a Rabid nest. You’re not there, you are here. Above ground. And Lilith’s dead.

“Get up,” Jeonghan mutters through clenched teeth. For a second, you think he’s disgusted with you. That he’s realized how deep your inability to control your fear and memories goes. Then he flicks his eyes toward the city. “The West End guard is here.” 

When you turn toward the city, shocked, you realize Jeonghan is right. Members of the city guard loyal to the Chwe family step into the ring of carnage, all six of them quiet and poised. The one at the point is tall and broad, dark hair swept neatly out of his tan face, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. You’d think he was handsome if didn’t look like he was going to kill you. 

“Well,” the guard chuckles. “Looks like this Rabid frenzied and killed the rest of them before we got here. That makes this easy.”

It takes a moment for his words to register. To lock in what he means. Rabid. They think you’re a Rabid.

“I’m-” your voice is raw and broken. You heave in air and then gasp when it feels like a knife has slipped between your ribs, remembering they��re broken. You immediately fall into a triage routine, regulating your breathing to ensure none of your breaths are too deep or too often. “Not Rabid.”

The guard at the front unsheathes his sword. It’s beautifully made, and you see the Chwe family crest glint on the hilt. “I know a Rabid when I see one.” 

“Really, Mingyu?” a new voice asks, deep and soft. “Have you ever heard a Rabid speak? Then again, they’re apparently wielding swords.” 

A man steps around the guard - Mingyu - and looks you up and down. He’s made up of midnight - dark hair, darker eyes, dark presence, though his skin is smooth and pale as the moon. His mouth quirks to the side and he tilts his head, watching you with mild interest. A lock of dark hair falls into his eyes.

He’s beautiful. It’s your first thought and you immediately hate him for it. Vampires that look like him know what they look like, and they use it to their full advantage. The Undercity was swimming with ethereal faces and diabolical desires. 

“Dhampirs,” the pretty one muses. “Huh. How fascinating.” 

“A dhampir?” Mingyu asks again, face scrunched up and unsure.

“Use that big nose of yours,” one of the other guards taunts Mingyu. “You can smell the blood.”

“Shut up, Chan. I can’t smell anything but that fucking awful cologne you wear.” 

“My cologne is not awful!”

The pretty vampire glances at his bickering guards and then back to you. “You’ll have to excuse the manners.” His eyes dart to your chest and he looks puzzled. “Your heart is beating too fast for a dhampir. Perhaps you are infected.”  

“She’s broken a fair few of her ribs and her wrist.” You look up in surprise, almost having forgotten Jeognhan was there. He is stone still, face unreadable as his gaze darts back and forth between them all. “She also just killed about eight of those things - bit of an adrenaline junky, this one. I’d like to take her to a blood bank to assist with her healing process, if I may, My Lord.”

He would? How Not-Jeonghan of him. Your realization of him using my lord is delayed, the word choice hitting you as the pretty vampire waves his hand. “We’ve got blood; we can treat her. If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask some questions about… well, this. The offer for treatment is contingent that neither of you are infected, of course.” 

Jeonghan’s expression is tight but he bows his head, posture stiff. “Your timing is auspicious and your kindness a welcome gift. You have our most eternal gratitude. We would be happy to answer questions, Lord Chwe.” 

“Vernon,” the vampire says, gaze flickering back to you and darkening a little. “You can call me Vernon.” 

TAG LIST:

@hipsdofangirl @jacixbliss @chronicfic @jespecially @asyre @todorokiskitten

[sokkastyles]

I read that post you reblogged about Katara using bloodbending to heal Zuko during the final Agni Kai, and honestly I would have loved it if that happened too. I've mentioned before in a previous ask that I wish bloodbending had been explored more in the narrative, especially Katara's complicated feelings about bloodbending. This is going to sound a bit morbid, but I'm kind of wondering if, after the encounter with Hama, do you think Katara would be kind of hyperaware of the water flowing throughout her own body or anyone else's? Would she feel tempted to try bloodbending again? Even though the first time she had to do so was to prevent Aang and Sokka from hurting each other, so she bloodbent Hama, and she found the whole thing disturbing, there's a part of me that wonders if Katara would still have a bit of morbid curiosity about bloodbending anyways. I know this sounds like I want Katara's character to be a bit darker, but what I really want is for Katara to be allowed to have these thoughts or this type of curiosity without her being made to feel like she's a bad person for it. Idk if any of this made that much sense, but I'm curious to know, what are your thoughts?

Katara unconsciously being hyper aware of the water around her and in other people's bodies after Hama is something that has made itself into my fics. Because bending is depicted in atla as part of who the person is, and I think keeping a bender from bending is like keeping someone from being allowed to move their arms and legs.

And once Katara knows this ability exists, not just bloodbending but everything Hama taught her that goes with it, like how to find the water in everything, she will find it impossible to not have this completely alter her bending and how she sees the world.

And, like with firebending, it's not the bending itself that is bad, it's what you do with it.

I love zutara fics that include bloodbending, not just the dark ones, but something I've explored a little in my fics is how it makes her more aware of Zuko's body and heightens her physical connection with him.

Bloodbending can work as a metaphor for consent, because it's not that it's inherently evil to have that kind of knowledge of another person's body, but it's about consent and trust. I see no reason why bloodbending can't be used to heal the same way that medical knowledge can be used both to heal or to kill and torture. (I'm thinking of that particular analogy because I'm reading Gene Wolfe's Shadow of the Torturer currently).

Like, I get that the show writers were trying to add complexity by showing the dark side of waterbending with Hama, but the thing is that while waterbending was always portrayed as good before, it was also portrayed in a very limited way. Katara is the last waterbender of her tribe, who had to learn on her own. "Some waterbending is bad, actually," isn't really a lesson she needed to learn, especially not from the only teacher she's ever had who can actually tell her about her own heritage. The unintended message is that Katara exploring a culture heritage that has been denied to her through war is bad, and it actually ends up limiting things instead of making them more complex. It's also another weird way the show dichotomizes combat waterbending and healing. Despite Katara gaining Pakku's respect, she is still getting the message from things like the Hama episode that using her bending for combat and not healing is wrong. The obvious solution is to make waterbending healing a form of bloodbending, and now that Netflix has made healing an actual learned bending form instead of something Katara is naturally good at, I have hope that this connection might actually be made. And this is a win win, because making healing a form of bloodbending actually achieves the complexity the original show was going for.

[underdark-dreams]

Hey idk if you only write Tav x character but I am STARVED!!! Starved I say! For Karach x Dammon content. It just makes so much sense and as someone who remained platonic with Karlach I still wanted her to get some action and seeing how Dammon was RIGHT! FUCKING! THERE! It makes sense that they could maybe hook up and he’s been invested in helping her too and huuuuuuuUUUUUUUUH.

I know you like writing about them tieflings so if eventually if you are able you could write the two of them going at it like the touch starved babies they both are (Karlach for obvious reasons and Dammon bc he’s probably focused on his work most of the time).

I’m still shook over your Rolan x Tav fanfic you wrote and I can’t wait to see what you write in the future!

Dammon x Karlach [Explicit]

Touchable

"Damn I'm good. And you, you're...very touchable." An infernal blacksmith and a Blood War veteran walk into a bar. Who would have guessed that Dammon is a natural when it comes to handling fire?

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Angst, Sweet/Hot

Word Count: 3,460 [Read on AO3]

“Of course, you’ll need to install it yourself.”

"Of course, of course—can’t touch the giant flaming woman," Karlach grinned at him. 

Dammon often noticed that Karlach smiled when things made her sad. He remembered the moment well, remembered each time he'd been given an opportunity to help tune that engine of hers.

Their most recent conversation stuck out with particular pain in his mind.

He'd spent many late nights burning the candles down in his room as he sketched and diagrammed and theorized. No matter how many sheets of parchment he filled, Dammon kept arriving at the same awful conclusion.

Even with his niche skills, he was all out of options for Karlach. She could either return to the sustaining fires of Avernus, or live on this plane however long she could manage before her engine was snuffed out.

Dammon couldn't even calculate whether she had years left or only months. Somehow, that made it so much more terrible.

Karlach took the news with superhuman optimism, the way she approached most things. She thanked him with tears in her eyes for at least giving her back the chance to touch and be touched. For that, her first hug in ten years was his. 

Hopefully it wouldn't be the last, Dammon found himself thinking, as her warm body pressed up firmly against him. She wasn't the only one who was long overdue for some physical affection.

Dammon had always thought of her now and then as he worked in his forge. Usually it was idle and passing, wondering whether her infernal parts were giving her any trouble. 

But lately, it was hard to shake her from his mind at all. Had she found someone to finally take to bed yet? Surely so, with how many years she'd be confined to unwilling celibacy. 

It embarrassed him to admit, but he fervently wished it could've been him. He wasn't much more than a humble smith, and she was practically the city’s hero at this point. How many times had she saved his own life? He'd lost track.

All these thoughts ran through Dammon's mind from where he sat at the bar of the Blushing Mermaid. As he surfaced from his reflection, the din and noise of the place pressed against his ears again.

Not as reputable as the Elfsong, perhaps, but it was closer to his forge. And it was easier to be left to yourself when all the other patrons were already piss-drunk.

"Hey, soldier!"

A friendly hand clapped his back, causing Dammon to nearly choke on his pint as Karlach slid into the seat beside him.

"Sorry," she said with a grimace, but her eyes were sparkling. "Gods, am I glad to see you."

Dammon wiped his mouth in surprise as she swung her very large mug up on the table. "You too, Karlach," he said with a genuine smile. It was like the very strength of his thoughts had conjured her. She looked better than ever.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he admitted. "I thought you'd be out enjoying the new you."

"Fucking someone's brains out, you mean?" Karlach finished for him. Dammon found her bluntness unbelievably attractive.

"To be honest that's why I'm here," she admitted, and rubbed her neck with a hand. "Camp's a bit awkward at the moment. I may have made a pass at Wyll that wasn't, er…enthusiastically received. Think I scared him off a bit," she finished ruefully.

Very much Wyll's loss, Dammon thought to himself. What he wouldn't give.

"Well, you picked the right place for drowning sorrows," he told her aloud. As if on cue, there was a loud chorus of booing as an empty glass went hurtling across the room to land on the low stage, where the half-orc lute player promptly lobbed it back into the crowd with a shattering crash. Dammon raised his arm out in demonstration of his point; Karlach was already cracking up.

"Fucking missed this city," she laughed, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. They each took a generous drink of ale.

But Karlach wasn't distracted for long. "I just wish, you know?" She sighed. "I wish I could be with someone who understands a little bit. Sex is fabulous on its own, but I want everything, all of it."

"What's stopping you?" Dammon asked her, wondering what it would take for her to see him as a very viable option.

"So many things," she said. "I appreciate what you've done for me Dammon, please believe that I do, but…I still feel more machine than Karlach." 

"I'm pretty handy with mechanics, you know." Dammon was flirting with her despite himself. He couldn't help it; she was so radiant and lovely as she sat there close beside him.

Karlach finally glanced over at him, and he saw in her eyes that she'd caught it. 

"You must know I like you," she said, her voice low but intense. "Dammon, I like you so much. But you're so lovely, and I'm—" She gestured a hand down her front. "—This. Wild, unstable. What if I end up, I don't know, hurting you somehow?” She looked at him with a pained expression. “A guy like you deserves someone tender, and I'm not sure that's me."

All traces of joking were gone; the air between them had grown serious in a second. Dammon's heart thrummed strong against his ribs, and he reached for her fingers before he could stop himself.

"Maybe forget what you think I deserve, and listen to what I’m saying." He shook his head at her. "Karlach, you talk like you're some kind of monster. So you've got an infernal engine in your chest. And sure, you're tall as hell. But I mean, you've got plenty of—you're not short on any of the—" He was casting around for a gentlemanly way to describe her curves and realizing that it probably didn’t exist.

"Spit it out," Karlach teased him. But her expectant expression made his face grow warm.

"I just wish you wouldn't talk down about yourself like that," Dammon explained. "You're very womanly, and plenty desirable."

"Oh," she said, taken aback. Her free hand fiddled with the handle of her mug. "That's…no one's ever said something like that to me before."

What a damn shame that was. Dammon watched the doubt and confusion work over her features. How long had she thought of herself as nothing more than a tin soldier? He'd fixed what parts of her his hands could tend, but something in the way she saw herself was still broken. 

Dammon squeezed her fingers under his. "Karlach, there's so much about you to love. That I love. You are…an incredibly beautiful woman. Don't you know that?"

Karlach stared at him with wide eyes; her face looked somehow younger and softer. For a person so sure of everyone else's worth, she seemed so blind and unsure of her own.

"I am?" She asked, so quietly it broke his heart a little.

Dammon could only think of answering with a kiss. He leaned in with a careful tilt of the head, eyes on her mouth—in the last second he was elated to feel her lean forward to close the distance.

He would've honestly, truly believed that there were sparks between them. There was the fiery warmth of her skin, but Dammon also felt a tingling jolt between their lips that had nothing to do with her heat. His insides sung at the feeling of her lips moving over his with just as much urgency as he felt.

Dammon pulled her face deeper to him with a hand at the back of her neck. As his tongue explored her mouth and sought hers, he felt one of Karlach’s palms rest against his thigh. He could have choked on the desire that rose in his throat at her touch.

They both pulled away at the same instant.

"Your place?" She prompted, breathless.

"Mine," Dammon agreed. It was only a few minutes away, and though his bed was cramped even for one, he expected they wouldn't be sleeping much.

Dammon dumped some coin on the bar in a rush before they made their way outside. The cool breeze through the streets made him realize just how flushed and heated his skin was. His arm sought Karlach's waist beside him as they walked, and a thrill went through him at how lovely it was to finally hold her close. She seemed to feel the same.

"Gods, I can't wait to ride you," she said huskily. Dammon tried to keep a grip on his composure; her brazen eagerness made it very difficult. He settled for pulling her into a quick, heated kiss as they continued on. 

The two of them practically stumbled over the dark cobblestones of the entryway in their haze, both buzzing with impatience and expectation. By the time his nervous fingers had finally made work of the lock to his quarters, they were on each other before the door had latched behind them.

Karlach's leg hitched up over his hip as she devoured his mouth. Dammon's hand gripped behind her knee at once, holding their bodies steady against each other, kissing her back with sheer years of pent-up enthusiasm.

"You're strong," Karlach said as she surfaced, sounding pleased and surprised at once.

"'I'd hope so, after throwing around that hammer so long."

"You can throw me around." After a pause she added, "That's an invitation."

"I got that," Dammon grinned, absolutely smitten with her, and captured her lips again.

He guided them both toward the far end of his room and tumbled over her when they reached the mattress. His hands grazed the edge of her shirt, desire muddling his understanding of how to undo the many buckles and straps.

She took more pity on him than he deserved. Almost before he could blink she had freed herself of all her clothing, laying back naked before him on his bed. Pale, dim moonlight from the window illuminated her figure.

She was extraordinary.

Dammon quickly tugged his shirt past his snagging horns, wishing to feel her skin against his as soon as possible. Even before his head was free, he felt Karlach’s fingers helping with his pants, tugging them down past his hips and sliding them off onto the floor.

He hovered over her as they gazed at each other. The promise of bare flesh against flesh was almost overwhelming, now they were here. Dammon leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips and then descended to explore her neck. 

Karlach’s arms clutched him eagerly as he kissed along her soft, warm skin. When he made his way down to her chest, he placed lips tenderly above her breast where the soft ticking of machinery resounded. It may not be a flesh and blood heart, but its rhythm was no less dear to him. She let out a soft, low hum.

Dammon wished he had more patience to linger. But instead he pushed his body down between her thighs, glancing up to check in on her for just a moment. Karlach watched him with a pained expression, lips parted—as if afraid he might not follow through with what his movements suggested. 

He wouldn't be teasing her for one second tonight. Dammon leaned down and ran the warm flat of his tongue up over her center.

His head was jerked slightly to the side as she grabbed at one of his horns with a moan. He didn't break from her, only licked at her steadily, smoothing and spreading her wetness up and over her soft folds. 

Even after all the work he'd done to cool her, she was still molten hot under his tongue—he thanked every god in the universe for his natural resistance. His lips closed firmly over her clit, sucking the spot as his tongue rolled her side to side in an achingly slow rhythm.

"Holy fuck," she panted from somewhere above him. "Holy fuck, Dammon—"

He curled one arm under and around her thigh, used thumb and index finger to spread her better for his mouth. He released his lips’ suction with an obscenely wet sound, replacing it with the circling pad of his thumb. She was delicious, but he sought to taste her deeper.

Dammon's tongue plunged deep into her cunt, so far that his nose pressed against where his fingers worked against her clit. 

Karlach cried out and squirmed violently under his mouth. Dammon's arms held her firm, angling her hips up and open against his searching mouth. His tongue thrust over and over unto her unbelievable heat as he tasted the sweet center of her, felt her satin walls constrict around him with each nudge of his tongue.

By now his own erection pressed painfully into the bed under him. He only shifted a little and continued on. She had so much more time to make up for, and Dammon was determined to be the one to satisfy her.

It wasn't long before Karlach's thighs were trembling against his ears. "Please," she whimpered desperately, nails clutching his hair to hold his face against her, as if begging him not to stop. He wouldn't have dreamed of it. His mouth worked her over with more enthusiasm than ever, swirling and sucking against her hot folds.

When she came around his tongue, the rush of her heat burst against his mouth and gushed out from her core. Dammon thought he might come just from the way her legs clenched desperately to keep his mouth working over her. He lapped up her sweet release faithfully with his tongue, even as his ears took in the far sweeter sounds of her shuddering, gasping moans.

Only once the twitching waves of her climax were receding under his lips did he glance up over her to see her face. 

Karlach’s eyes were closed, an expression of transcendent bliss painting her features. As he watched her pant through parted lips, her eyes opened slightly to look down at him where he still hovered between her thighs. He knew the lower half of his face must be dripping with her climax.

With a guttural sound, Karlach’s legs gripped around his middle to pull him just to where her arms could take over and guide him up over her. Dammon gathered himself just in time to land with palms braced on either side of her.

“Wait—” Dammon started, wishing to clean himself up first, but she was already pulling him into a kiss. She licked across his lips, tasting herself on him, before her tongue demanded entry into his mouth. He yielded more than willingly.

His painfully hard cock grazed her thigh as he moved over her. Karlach groaned into his mouth; the vibration of her lips against his sent yet another rush of blood to his throbbing length.

She broke away with a fresh glint of arousal already building behind her eyes. “Inside,” she directed him. “Right fucking now.”

Dammon needed no more encouragement. With fingers grasping under her back, he firmly lifted her body up and over his lap. The way she landed over him pressed her still-dripping heat against the underside of his cock. A trembling groan escaped him at the sensation. Nevertheless, he gathered himself enough to scoot back against the headboard for support.

Before he could fully prepare himself, Karlach’s hand had guided his tip between her folds. In the next motion, she descended down around his whole length at once.

“Fuck,” Dammon gasped. He wished he could find something more eloquent or romantic to describe the feeling, but his mind was wholly overwhelmed by the fiery warmth that gripped all around his cock. He could even feel her walls still fluttering against him from her recent climax. His fingertips dug into the flesh of her hips.

They crossed glances as she sat still to take him for a moment. Karlach’s eyes shone with desire and excitement, and something almost like love. One of Dammon’s hands slid up along her spine, dipping her neck down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. He felt his mouth shaking slightly against hers.

“Every time alone, I imagined this,” Karlach breathed against him as they parted. 

Dammon thought he might unravel completely at her words. He leaned back against the hard wood behind him, eyes taking in every beautiful inch of her flesh, inviting her to do whatever she wanted with him.

She accepted the offer wordlessly. As her fingers clasped behind his neck, Karlach rocked her hips up and down over his length. He felt his jaw go slack at the feel of her heat surrounding him, taking him, over and over and over—

Dammon’s grip dug into her hips to add more force with each of her rhythmic thrusts down onto him. He gazed up at her with pure adoration as she took him. The feel of her warm skin against his lit a fire in his chest; his cock throbbed against the hot, squeezing silk of her walls.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dammon gasped before he could think. It was the truth, and she deserved to be told it—she deserved everything. He held her tight on his lap as took him, chasing her next release. Karlach’s hips faltered for a moment, and he realized she was already close.

Dammon felt her thighs trembling against him and pushed his back up straight to hold her closer as she rode his length. His palms pressed against her back, strong forearms circling and supporting her as she started to come apart yet again.

And she did—with a shuddering quake, Karlach grabbed his shoulders and let out a jumbled cry that was some mix of obscenities and his name.

She was incredible. Dammon watched the agony and ecstasy on her face as long as he could bear, as she rode out her second orgasm onto him, as her tight heat gripped and pulsed relentlessly around his cock. In the next moment his eyes squeezed shut as he was thrown wide to the delayed force of his own release, his hands spasming against her back as stars burst bright behind his eyelids.

After a long moment filled with nothing but the sounds of them keening and panting against each other, her chin dropped over his shoulder. Dammon felt her arms circle to grip around him tight.

As he listened to her breathing slow, she began to shake against him again. 

This time it was from the quiet sobs that heaved up from her chest. He held her head against the crook of his shoulder and stroked her hair as her tears flowed, feeling the droplets splash against and roll down his back.

Karlach cried from joy, blessed relief, aching sadness…from the pain of so much lost time and the knowledge of her limited future. It wasn't fair, none of it, and Dammon didn't know a single thing to say that might ease her burdened heart. 

Engine or no, she had more heart than anyone he'd ever known. He could only hold her to him tight as could be.

Seeking to comfort her further, Dammon worked his hips down the bed with her seated on him and tipped their connected bodies gently backwards. She collapsed without resistance on top of and against him. At least he could support her for a while, even if it was just with his silent body. 

After a little while, Karlach raised her head to look at him. Her face was streaked with tear tracks, but she was trying to smile through trembling lips. "I'm s-sorry," she choked out.

Dammon’s heart couldn’t bear it. He silenced her at once with a kiss. "Don't apologize to me," he whispered to her as he broke away, "or to anyone, ever."

He gathered her back up in his arms immediately. Karlach didn’t protest, only rested her cheek against his chest with a shuddering sigh. Dammon was vaguely aware of the sheen of sweat cooling all over his bare skin, but with her warm body nestled back up against him, he was more than comfortable.

Dammon pressed his lips to the skin of her forehead. He closed his eyes to focus on the way his heart beat against her chest; the steady hum of her body reverberated against him in response. Despite everything, the sound was dearer to him than he thought possible.

“Ready to go again?” Karlach asked suddenly. 

Dammon chuckled low in his chest, feeling the delayed ache in his limbs and realizing a bit late that the night’s exertions had only just begun.

“Give me a few minutes,” he requested with a lazy smile. “We’ve got time.”

[rubyglasses]

Fancasting The Secret History

sharing my vision of who could play these classics students

i tried to be as realistic as possible, considering their book descriptions and casting actors close in age to each other and their characters. after seeing so many of the same names in these fancasts, i wanted to throw some new ones in the mix!

henry's a big guy, dark-haired, square-jawed, bespectacled — he basically looks like clark kent/superman. so my thought process went to henry cavill look-alike, jamie flatters (b. 2000). coincidentally, my old fancast was david corenswet, so i guess it all checks out. i only know jamie from avatar: the way of water, but based on his music videos, i think he's got the acting chops to capture henry's more unhinged side that he lets slip idk

to me, bunny is the most american out of the group because of his family background, it's even described as "an upbringing vitally present in Bunny in every respect, from the way he shook your hand to the way he told a joke." saw this rudy pankow (b. 1998) casting suggestion on mycast and it just made total sense to me. having watched him as jj maybank in outer banks, i know he can capture how obnoxious bunny can be, and he'll do well trying to annoy every character and pushing their buttons.

admittedly, this was a hard one because i originally had tom glynn-carney in mind but i wanted someone younger, so i didn't go too far and went with ty tennant (b. 2002) who's played the younger version of his characters twice now. i mean if you think about it, aegon ii targaryen and charles have a couple things in common: both are alcoholics and have an incestuous relationship with their sister 😭 since charles and camilla look androgynous and described as angels, i figured ty looks the part. i also believe in ty's acting skills to portray charles' complexity as the story goes on.

i thought of young actresses who resembled ty and went with thomasin mckenzie (b. 2000), who i loved in jojo rabbit and last night in soho. i know thomasin would look good as a blonde, but more importantly, she's got the face for period dramas. camilla is enigmatic, but i think richard just saw her as like an ingénue, so i figured thomasin can do that layered performance.

thought and long hard for who to cast as francis because i'm so tired of seeing the same redhead actors or some random redhead model 😭 thank goodness luther ford (b. 1999/2000) has been discovered. his portrayal in the crown sold me because it was very francis of him to just sit around drinking booze and smoking while dressed in modern princely clothing.

another inspired casting suggestion i saw on mycast — physically, i think dominic sessa (b. 2002) truly fits the bill; i like that he's not your conventionally good-looking guy too. acting-wise, he was incredible in the holdovers. and i believe he could put so much more personality to richard papen's character.

might make a part 2 for other characters like julian morrow and judy poovey :> thanks for checking this out and let me know if you see the vision!

p.s. it's never gonna happen but it'd be interesting to just see this set of actors get together because they seem like a bunch of introverts 😭 they might bond over taking film photos of each other though so that's cool

[campbell-rose]

Helluva Rewrite: Moxxie

A big thing with Moxxie was just me wanting him to not look like a butler. I don’t know what it is with Viv and men in suits, but I'm not a fan. To keep his vest from blending into his pants, I untucked a bit of his undershirt. I want each member of IMP to stand out visually from one another (because all imps literally look related to some degree lol) so I gave Moxxie green in his color palette to contrast the orangish red tone I gave his skin. I also think green eyes will help him stand out very nicely from the group. Instead of striped I put gold rings on his tail and gave him a couple rings on his fingers because greed and gold. Since Viv loves bowties, I let Mox keep his but made it droopy because I think it’s cuter. Originally, I was going to keep his coattails, but I feel like with the shape of his legs it just muddies his silhouette. 

With Moxxie there isn’t much about his character I have to gripe about or want to change. He’s a skilled gunman with knowledge of the subject and history of guns. Cool, now for that, I’m working in his greed traits and decided that he outright hoards guns (since viv wants to claim imps hoard things). Moxxie has a vast collection and is always keeping them nice and spiffy. 

Now one thing I don’t like about Moxxie is his insecurity. Moreso the fact that it’s constantly being played up, like in Unhappy Campers where he’s like a crotchety old woman going through menopause because his wife is more popular than him. At that point it’s just stupid for the sake of drama. Since I made Millie the insecure one, I’m going to play up Moxxie’s straight man status. 

Moxxie is going to be the level headed cool sniper type I suppose. He’s not going to be as expression as Millie, the blue oni to her red in a sense. I think the comedy of that could be when something does make him lose his composure (I think I'll draw up a redone scene as an example) like Millie’s parents outright disliking him or Striker singing about how he sucks and should go fuck himself. I like the idea that because of his childhood as the son of an abusive mob boss father he’s learned to shove bad feelings down rather than express them outright. This doesn’t mean I want him to be a stone faced rock. No, I mostly just want him to express surface level exasperation and frustration with Blitzø’s antics (like his big “WHAT?” when Blitz mentions he hired Strikker) 

So an example of this could be Striker’s song. After he tells Moxxie to go fuck himself, a close shot of Moxxie’s face shows it twitching. He adjusts his glasses, stands up, and excuses himself. (Millie recognizes that this is bad because she knows him and follows) But she loses him in Striker’s fangirl crowd. Moxxie will be visibly upset as he climbs the stairs before hearing Millie calling for him and regaining his composure – until he notices the glow coming from Striker’s room that catches his attention. 

So I don’t want this Moxxie to be a straight-faced ass, just a more composed character. 

Back to his insecurity real quick! Mozzie is a trained assassin but his is not physically strong enough to fight hand to hand. This is a weak spot for him because his father constantly shat all over him growing up and would literally smack him around and Moxxie was (in his own mind) too physically weak to stop it from happening. 

As to how he met Blitzo... well in this I don’t want the bs jail in hell bit because there has been no justifiable ass pulls by Viv or the team. Idk I'm having trouble. Maybe they met through Millie? Like Moxxie meets Millie doing something and is like ‘holy shit I love this chick fuck you dad I'm out.’ 

Idk that’s what I'm going with I'll fix it later this took way too long to do and i'll still gotta do Blitzo and Stolas and maybe the other characters and then maybe rework season one idk i'll focus on just doing Blitzo and reworking my Loona again

[amazingmsme]

Do you have head canons for how the different gods laugh?

(Besides Hermes lmao, his bird laugh is as iconic as it is well known💀)

Love your blog!

ABSOLUTELY! Decided to throw in everyone from god games as well as Hades, so this got a lil longer than expected lol. I always love doing these, & the gods are such fun characters that I’m dying to see more of! & of course I bully my faves

& Hermes is so iconic, I love his shrill cackle, that man loves a good laugh & never really holds back!

We also kinda got a canon laugh from Calypso when she giggles right after saying goddesses can’t die. I think she has a very light & airy laugh, almost like the twinkling of a bell. Very cute & feminine

Likewise, we heard a bit of what Aeolus sounds like, but that’s more of a snide, condescending laugh that she likes to use when toying with someone. Her more genuine laugh is higher pitched & more of a giggle

For everyone else, I’m going off of pure vibes

I think Athena tries not to laugh because she has a badass image to maintain, & tbh most of the other gods aren’t that funny, or at least they don’t appeal to her sense of humor. She likes more clever & dry witty comedy, which is probably why Ody’s jokes work well on her. He likes to use a lot of fun word play & his timing & physical comedy is just perfect, & catches her off guard enough to draw out a real laugh. She laughs with her full chest, it’s loud & is honestly such a bright, happy sound, probably because it’s so rare to hear. Much to her chagrin, she snorts when she laughs hard enough. When she’s trying to mask her laugh it gets quicker & higher pitched, & she usually tries to muffle it behind her hand

Apollo’s laugh is pretty similar to Hermes, but it’s a bit deeper & not as erratic & sounds like he has more control over his voice. Idk it probably sounds so pretty & smooth, almost like his laugh alone is a song & more than a few gods accuse him of faking it because it just sounds a lil too “perfect.” If you really get him going tho it does tend to take on a more unhinged & frantic pitch, & it gets real hard to tell the difference between the 2

I just know Hephaestus has a really deep & rich laugh, but he doesn’t laugh often. He’s pretty serious & he doesn’t always get every joke tossed his way, but when he does, it’s this really deep, amused chuckle that slowly gets louder the longer he laughs

Aphrodite has the prettiest laugh, it’s not as high pitched as you’d expect from her & almost has a purr to it, but that could just be her infectious, bubbly giggles

So uh, I love Ares way more than I was expecting to from his part in gg & I’m gonna simp for a sec cause I can. But Ares actually loves to have a good time & let loose! His version of that may look a lil more bloody, but he still enjoys a good time! He can still laugh & tell jokes! So I think he wouldn’t bother holding back & just belts out this deep belly laugh that can make you jump if you’re not expecting it. Funnily enough, I think he also would snort a lot when laughing, so maybe it’s a war god thing lmaoooo. He’s also prone to laugh when he’s sparring or in the middle of a fight, & that’s more of a different sound. He gets this crazed look in his eye & his laugh raises an octave & gets a lil faster until it’s this really menacing, crazed cackling that is just as scary as it is endearing

Hera doesn’t laugh as much as she used to, but when she does, it’s this sly sounding, amused chuckle. Even when she’s being sincere, it lowkey sounds like she’s making fun of you. If something actually gets her going, she’ll throw her head back & her laugh actually sounds authentic, but it still has a more smooth, controlled tone much like Apollo

Now for the big 3

Hades doesn’t laugh much, obvi, but when he does, it’s this really low rumbling from deep within his chest, & you don’t really think he’s laughing until you see his shoulders shaking & notice the smile beneath his beard. But it something’s legit funny, he’ll let out this hearty laugh & lean back & will either hug his stomach or slap a knee

Oh Poseidon, you’re gonna fucking hate me for this. But he usually has this calm, really snide snicker/chuckle he does when he’s mocking someone which is like all the time. It’s such a smug sound you just want to slap the shit outta him because it’s so obvious he’s laughing at YOU! But his real laugh has a rich tenor to it, & is way louder than he’d like. & if something really gets him laughing, it starts to get higher pitched before it starts to morph into more of a bubbly, gurgling sound until it sounds like he’s laughing underwater

It’s no surprise that the thunder bringer himself has a downright booming laugh that can shake the heavens themselves if he really lets himself go, but much like his bitch of a brother, he only really does that if he’s laughing at someone. Otherwise, it’s still really deep & loud, it just doesn’t have as much bass to it. If you listen for it, you can hear claps of thunder when he lets out unbridled belly laughs, & when he’s just chuckling you can hear a buzzing static sound like lightning

[chubs-deuce]

What kind of friends, Dawn will have in future stories?

Have you thought of any original characters yet?

I don't actually know yet I'm ngl!!!

I am generally in lowkey desperate need for OCs to fill the background with and give the surrounding cast a bit of an expansion, I'm ngl :'DD

I've thought about repurposing some OCs of mine from other fandoms/stories for this, such as Zena:

But ngl I have just zero backstory ideas and her hazbin-ified AU redesign feels a little incoherent in comparison to the canon cast, since they're meant to reflect their life, sins and death...

And idk what kind of sin would make you spawn in hell as an anthropomorphic pig when she's - in her own story - the de-facto leader of a rebellious secret group of outcasts that are desperately trying to find a sustainable cure for a lethal disease that nearly wiped out her entire people... like, she's just a very noble soul fighting for a genuinely good cause? Idk how to make a backstory that matches the design that doesn't feel like a complete rewrite of her and her personality traits...

I also contemplated adding William from my hazbin hotel x fnaf AU to the roster of background characters as both a fun little cameo and an expansion of the sinners that reside in the hotel over time, but I'm unsure if that wouldn't be a bit too difficult for me actually implement without going in-depth about it (the temptation to explore the concept more is simply too high for me lmfao)

As for specifically friends for Dawn... I haven't the foggiest, man! :')

Thing is... her circumstances don't really allow for much room to find friends her age?

Sinners cannot reproduce in this AU, so most of the sinners in hell are teenagers at the earliest (I am assuming mortal souls that aren't at an age yet where they can even comprehend the concept of wilful ignorance of consequences and knowingly committing sins anyways don't go to hell) and they don't physically age after they fall.

I'm ngl I have no clue about what's going on in Cannibal Town and if all of the people there are sinners themselves or if they're more hellborn themselves? (something something hell's natural street-cleaning service that make sure dead bodies don't remain in the open for long) The fact that there's what seems like kids there is a bit bewildering but I imagine with their kind of hive-mind way of thinking and their dietary preferences they wouldn't really be interested in befriending non-cannibal outsiders like Dawn anyways?

And since Dawn is not really a true hellborn in the same sense as the sins, the royal hellborn society or even the lower class denizens of hell's various rings - and also visibly resembles Charlie and in extension Lucifer far less than she reflects her father's appearance, I imagine she wouldn't really fit into any of those social circles either ^^"

This is an issue I actually kind of really want to pick up on with Charlie's past some more as well and expand on with Dawn later, but this also means I don't really find many opportunities to introduce a friend circle for Dawn?

Then again Charlie doesn't really appear to have one either beyond Vaggie and her hotel, so I don't think it'd be thaaaat big of an unbelievability issue in the greater scale of things...

[red-room-studi0]

WIR AU Introduction!!!! "ReinC̴̢̺̹̿̐̊͂̉Ȍ̸̬̘̭̬́̈Ḑ̸̯̫͔̝̋̎̓̏Ẽ̸̠̤̤̰͕̆͐͝D̶̹̜͆̒͜ AU"

(oooo spooky title)

Soooo uhhhh this is an Wreck It Ralph AU of mine that is also a self inserbut uh if u don't like that then uhhhhhh. Sorry.

ANYWAY! I'm bad at explaining things so just bear with me here! *Freddy Faz bear noises 🐻*

Oke oke- Sooo basically this AU is about this Girl "Annabelle" (my self insert teehee) who had gotten trapped in the Sugar Rush game somehow just by messing with the game cabinet while the Arcade was closed (spooky black magic shit ik). But later she finds some weird red glitchy blob by Cola mountain, she messes with it for a bit and then HOLY SHIT IT'S TURBO??? WHAT???!!! NO WAY! But Turbo is in his virtual form (like a ghost form of some kind, idk just keep listening to me yap) instead of his physical form (and oh boy is his physical form way more fucked up than his virtual form). Time goes by and Annabelle is Ruling Sugar Rush (yeah ik that doesn't make sense but just wait till I get to the lore part and as to why oke? oke-). So yeah she has been made to rule a literal sugar kingdom while she also has to be a playable character to NOT look sus to other game characters watching. (ofc this did not work cuz erm- what the sigma??? new girl??? where Vanellope???????)

LORE

OK! now for the lore and as to WHY??? AND HOW???

Sooo, Annabelle had move into town and then found out there was a cool arcade nearby where she was now living. Ofc that being Litwack's Arcade :3. For a little while she had been a daily visitor to the arcade and ofc Sugar Rush was her #1 favorite arcade game and played it EVERY DAY. She would play other games too ofc (Fix It Felix Jr would be her last resort game when all the other games in the arcade were Occupied).

Now as for Annabelle's personality? She is pretty nice and very fun to be around if you like her at first sight. She has a bit of an ego though, It pretty much started developing when she would win all the time in that Sugar Rush game. She had ALWAYS been the #1 person on that sugar rush leader board (I actually don't know if there even is a leader board in the game but NOW IT DOES >:]). Unfortunately that would change when a couple of assholes would come in and mentally put her down saying shit like uhhh "lol, ur so bad", "I could bet you in a race like that" (they're jealous lol). Ofc this gets on Annabelle's nerves and this makes her think she has competition (and she did) AND her way to cope and talk back at them with bs like this was to STROKE HER EGO (oh honey noooo D,:). Ofc this eventually gets to her when she starts fumbling in the game and is starts losing with every chance she gets (yes getting 2sd place means losing to her, sounds familiarrrrrrr ◉_◉). She has been losing her place on the leaderboard and eventually the Assholes find out and then they quite literally take a mental tole on her (ya wanna know what's really funny??? These assholes are literal teenage kids... Annabelle is literally fucking 20 like- HONEY THEY'RE KIDS STOP WORRYING 😭😭😭).

One night Annabelle hits a breaking point and NEEDS to be back on that #1 spot on the leader board BY. ANY. MEANS. NECISSARY.

Phhhfffttt- Oh nonono- she is NOT losing to a couple of kids that have been bulling her for the past couple of days! Hell NO! So what does she do???? Break into the Arcade overnight!!!! WhAt CoUlD pOsSiBlY gO wRoNg??? *screaminggggg and cryinngggg*

So Annabelle breaks in the Arcade, UNFORTUANTELY She had forgotten her quarters back at home. Sooooo she goes back home and doesn't bother✨ JK SHE DECIDES TO BREAK INTO THE GAME CABNET TO STEAL QUARTERS 💀 (mind u that Annabelle is UNAWARE that these game characters are sentient, so even if she did have her change on her and put them in... they would NOT be there) Annabelle rummages around and is suddenly hit with some powerful shock and blacks out (Nice one girl 😒). Annabelle wakes up and HOLY SHIT- WHAT THE FUCK??? SHE'S IN SUGAR RUSH???? WHAT THE HELLLLL?????? (ofc this whole time she thinks she's dreamingggg but the scary reality finally hits her eventually 😁😁😁) Annabelle Finds out about Game Central Station and oh my god it looks to scary for her- nope, She's staying inside Sugar Rush. And heaven forbid if one of them finds out she's human in the game world, they could probably kill her *🥲*. I almost forgot to mention that her physical appearance slowly starts to change the longer she's in the game world. Her skin starts to look paler and slightly grey; her eyes are tinted yellow and her eyerises are turning a darker shade of blue. And this is due to the exposure to the atmosphere of the game world. So it looks like she's dying but she's not. :,]

Anyway about this Red g̵̋͜l̸̯̾i̶̱̍t̶̩͒c̴̪̀h̸͖́ÿ̶̦ blob she found beside Cola Mountain~

After a while of her walking around and Exploring Sugar Rush (and to find a safe place to stay *sobs*) She sees a red glint in the corner of her eyes by the mountain and ofc goes to check it out (naauuurrrrrrr!!!!), She finds it, picks it up, messes with it for a minute and she's suddenly hit with a painful red shock that literally makes her fall to the ground. And with some spoooky electronic glitchy magic bs going on in front of her this blob takes in the form of... guys... You'll NEVER guess who it is!... It's Turbo! what a goddamn surprise! I bet u never guessed right hehehehehehe >:] jk (I just realized how long this is getting. I'm sorry to all my ADHD people 😭😭😭)

I'll try to explain this part really quick :,)

Turbo meets Annabelle in his Virtual form, Annabelle os freaked out about this shit cuz holy fuck what is that creepy ass glitchy tall shadow creature???? (yes his virtual form made him tall 🤭) So after some back and fourth talking and them introducing themselves and Turbo going on about his pathetic sob story as they why he's like this and all that bs talk, Annabelle asks if he could be able to take her home because of his coding abilities and all that stuff. He says he will BUT, in order to help her get "home" SHE has to do something for him first in order for that to happen. He NEEDS everything back that was all taken away from HIM and he need her help to get it all back just by Reincoding him back to his physical from (unfortunately for Turbo, his powers and abilities are limited when he's in his virtual form.). Annabelle agrees. (spoiler alert: There is actually no way she can get home, she's stuck in the game world forever. 🥲)

Now how this will happen is:

• Get inside the castle and enter the code room, Find Sour Bill and hold him at knife (ik, very dramatic and over the top but somethings gotta work) point. He will help her get into the code room with a rope to tie around her in order to stay safe and not float away in the black abyss of the code room (ofc he tells her the Nintendo code)

• He will be with her when this happens, Annabelle will need to destroy Vanellope's code and keep it away from all the other codes just like he did when he Ruled Sugar Rush. This will ensure that Vanellope will forget EVERYTHING (this means her memories about Ralph and everyone else she has befriended and her memories she has held dear)

• Turbo will teach her how to code a new character sprite for herself and put EVERYTHING in it that will make her Rightful Ruler. Annabelle gives herself the Name "Queen Sweetheart" Omori Reference???? (Turbo designed a dress for her, She found it pretty sus on how low the bust area is but whatever, she has other clothing designs for herself. Whatever works)

• Alright Vanellope is out of the way and now considered a threat once again and no one has NO memory of Vanellope and Annabelle is officially rightful ruler of Sugar Rush

• She will announce that there will be a big Racing event in THREE DAYS (ofc the whole part with the coins from the first movie is brought back to ensure that Vanellope CANNOT enter the race again.

• When that day comes Turbo will virtually go into Annabelle's body (It's painful) and then she will go racing with him virtually inside her.(Please don't get the wrong idea I couldn't think of any other way to say it 😭😭😭) She HAS TO WIN. If she doesn't then he will find her completely useless and not help her get back home. *😐*

When Annabelle wins that race Turbo is finally back to his physical form and 100% fully alive and will take everything back that has been taken from him. (sure Turbo, sure 😒)

Ofc there will be people getting in the way of Their plans cuz people want to know why there's suddenly a new character and "WHAT THE FUCK DID U DO TO VANELLOPE???" -Ralph probably 🤭

With the help of some people Vanellope eventually starts to regain memory. "How will Vanellope get into that Race? she has no medal!" Well Felix was nice enough to give him one of his to use, he was hesitant *raises eyebrow* but he had to do it for the sake of Vanellope.

I was gonna type in more but I think that would be spoiling some stuff so uh yeahhhh. I'll stope here for now! uhhhh Thanks for readingggg. (If u even read this far into my AU Lore and stuff 😇)

I'd love to type more story and lore but like the last bits are like the best parts so like- I'll save those for art hehehehe.

If you like this AU then YIPPEEEE!!!!! ✨✨✨

If not then uhhhh 😐😐😐

thx for reading anyway 🥲

Anyway uh I'll make ref sheet's for Turbo and Annabell/QS soon dw 😁😁😁

If u have questions about the AU, my inbox is open for asks!!! ✨✨✨ I'd love to answer :333

Oke uh Bye 💖

[catwrites9]

heyy i hope you're having a good day/night! <3

i wanted to request some general ellie williams relationship hcs? sorry im not the best at making requests ^_^

thank you so much! :))

Sorry if you meant the game Ellie but I write for HBO Ellie so here’s the head cannons

Sorry if this was bad I rushed it in the end because I just need to get this done so I don’t have to worry about this while I’m writing my scream story and yes I keep adding characters so I have to rewrite a bunch

HBO!ellie Williams relationship hc

Warnings- mentions of the name David but not the events that happens with him. Might be spelling mistakes or sentences that don’t make sense I tried to prof read but I’m half asleep.

Ok I will kinda be pulling from my book for some plots of story here.

How you two got into the relationship

The way you first met was not the best considering the fact you thought her and Joel were fedra so you may have thrown her but it was on a couch so she didn’t get hurt. After that you all went together to Jackson, over time Ellie definitely warmed up to you.

Now after everything with David she would definitely let her emotions run through and take over once you were taken somewhere else.

The moment she sees you she’s speechless and just hugs you and holds your face. She was scared because she though you died. She pulls in and kisses you. The immediate fear on her face after that is because she thinks you don’t love her.

She tries walking away and apologizing but you pull her in for another kiss and tell her you love her.

You make it official later that day when you two are alone and cleaning each other's wounds.

Now for the headcanons

She’s definitely very protective of you even if you can easily protect yourself.

She’ll lecture you if you make a dumb decision and almost get bit, she’s not trying to be mean, she just cares about you too much to see you die.

Words of Affirmation is definitely one of Ellie’s love languages that she loves. She loves when you tell her you love her or that she did a great job at something.

Also she’ll never admit it but she loves when you compliment her.

She’s very protective of you, you have to be in her eye view or have a hand on you at all times.

I feel like she definitely is not a physical touch person except for you and maybe Joel.

She would definitely get jealous not because she thinks you will cheat, it's just that she doesn't think that she’s good enough for you.

You would have to later inform her that the person you talked to was not better than her, she would definitely get embarrassed after but I mean she got the confirmation.

Definitely the type to after a long day just plop down on your chest and fall asleep.

If Ellie sees you sad or if she’s bored at night she would definitely read her pun book to you.

She is definitely a hugger/ heavy cuddler like you would have to tell her something because she is hugging you while your doing something.

I feel like Ellie would both a big spoon and little spoon, some nights she wants to hold you and some nights she needs you to hold her.

Idk why I always think of this but I feel like Ellie would not be a good cook like to the point that she is banned from the stove and because she almost lit the house on fire.

I love Bella Ramsey<3

[usernamesuggestionsarefunny]

Possibly unpopular opinion (Or perhaps not idk): I love what they have done with Zuko and Ozai's relationship in the live action Netflix Avatar show.

In the cartoon we never get the ~vibes~ that Zuko has a complicated relationship with his father, only that it is abusive and one-sided in the sense only Zuko craves Ozai's approval, while Ozai straight up hates him, wants him dead or has no problem with him dying (Why doesn't he kill him if he has Azula? We don't know, plot has to happen, he sent Zuko to find the avatar in order to get rid of him, probably, or actually canon idk or remember), clearly prefers Azula to him as successor, etc, etc, etc (+ later the comics literally overkilled this trend "she was born lucky while..." omg stfu). Zuko is basically the perfect character to prove the fire nation is not all evil (Oh look, they hate him too, he is inherently their victim too from the very beginning).

So when Zuko switches sides in the cartoon, what I see as an adult rewatching is someone giving up on luxory, physical safety and... that is pretty much it. Sure it is a big deal to give up on those things to do what is right (Few would) and still awesome that he did the right thing in the end, but if you really think about it, he is not giving up that much, he is not giving up anything truly valuable to him. Respect? Honor? Sure he is said to have received it back after Azula "killed" Aang, but we never truly see it. For all intents and purposes his sister has that and wayyy more of it. His father's love and acceptance? Never had it, so he didn't truly "loose it" when he spoke up for those soldiers, got the scar and was banished, it is not really shown to have suddenly popped into existence when he was said to have killed the avatar. He literally had nothing in the fire nation, literally nothing. This could only make "doing the right thing" a lot easier for him, and for the adult audience (At least for me), his arc is just him realizing what is almost irritatingly obvious for us: That no one in the fire nation truly loves and respects him so might as well switch sides (Basically if we weren't also shown that Zuko is compassionate and does care about the horrible things the fire nation is doing, Ember Island Players would have gotten a bit of truth in it).

Now, in the live action, where do I even start? It has been so good so far when it comes to Ozai and Zuko. That man, if he hated Zuko in a cartoonishly evil way almost from birth, he sure doesn't show it. Don't get me wrong, he is just as abusive (Creepily so in many scenes, made me feel so protective of Zuko and Azula), but he is also shown to "care" about Zuko as in having some hope left that he can mold him into another powerful genocidal mini me. Is Azula winning by far? Ofc, she is still the prodigy, I am sure I am going to see flashbacks of favoritism later on. But Ozai doesn't yet seem to favor her in a way that makes Zuko's craving for his approval (Or even Ozai's hope in him as heir) hopeless. It seems, from his scenes with Azula, that Ozai foments the rivalry and competition between the two siblings not only because he personally thinks Azula is the best (Which he also might in this version), but also as a way of control through fear (Especially for prodigy Azula), and to make them (Especially comparatively weaker Zuko) "better", something this version of Ozai appears to think is possible EVEN when he banishes Zuko. Now, he might have done this "to get rid of him" as in the original, but in the live action he seems super open to and genuinely believe the idea that the exile could make Zuko stronger and better, not to mention worthy of the throne if he succeeds. Ozai treats Zuko like the heir despite favoring Azula is all I am saying. Zuko's actions are therefore almost impossible, yes, but not hopeless or even naive. And if this trend of Ozai's respect and "love" (Super on quotes) being achievable continues, Zuko's eventual turn to the good side will be much more powerful. He will have to give up much more after spending a summer with his abusive parent love bombing him for "killing" the avatar. Zuko's choice will be solely based on his findings about the horrors the fire nation has committed and not wanting to be the cause of more suffering even though he could have it all. Even though it was his fate to be his father's "mini me"-> Something terrifyingly likely and not so quickly discarded by the narrative itself as it was in the animated series.

I think the best part about this subtle change in the father-son dynamic (If it was the intention of the writers, I am aware it could have been unintended) is that the scar tm was a direct result of Zuko's compassion for those soldiers and not just the excuse Ozai used to banish him or "final straw" because he preferred Azula sooo much more, as it is pretty much implied later on in the animated series and comics by focusing so much on how much of a perfect victim Zuko was pretty much from birth. The addition of the 41st surviving because of Zuko was also pretty nice, and so is Zuko's relationship with them, he will need fire nation allies when he gets to the throne and this is a good start, something the animated series never touched upon much.

I am on episode 6 btw so my opinion might change. I will edit this post if that is the case. BUT my thoughts on these first scenes doesn't change, they are good imho

EDIT (And spoilers): I just watched Zhao’s revelation where he tells Zuko that Ozai would never let him return and he just wanted to use him to motivate Azula. It does change things and invalidates most of what I said, but taking out just this one scene, as I said, the Ozai-Zuko dynamic is great in this show, and also, Zhao is obviously not the most reliable source, because he was allied to Azula and obviously wanted to hurt Zuko, as he was losing the fight with him. There is also the fact that Azula wasn't watching Ozai and Zuko when Ozai told his son that he was being banished and that it was in part so he could get stronger etc, that was all for Zuko and had little way of serving as motivation for Azula (Unlike the scenes where Ozai praises Zuko in front of her, those could have totally been him bullshitting his daughter to motivate her to work even harder). So all in all this scene doesn't ruin the overall impression I had of the Ozai-Zuko father-son dynamic in the life action show. In fact, it could be taken to confirm one of my impressions which was that Ozai likes pitying his children against each other to push them harder.

EDIT 2: Ozai's reaction to Zuko's possible death is further proof imo that his “test” was very much real (even if almost impossible) and everything I said earlier still stands. He wouldn't mind that much if he died, it would just prove his “weakness”, and he is very pleased with Azula, but he didn't look happy or even indifferent when he learned the news.

[egg-emperor]

Idk why people want to think Eggman loving Sage is out of character... Like even if people subscribe to the idea that he's incapable of love he LITERALLY created a highly powerful computer program that can exist in physical form. Why the HELL would he not be proud of that and love her? I personally love the "evil villain, good dad" trope so I do believe he does love her as a daughter but it's not like those two traits can't coexist.

Ah that's not quite exactly my personal stance on it ^^; It heavily diverts from the typical "evil villain, good dad" archetype in the best way. The basis and conditions of his accepted fatherhood on Sage is built on his evilness and narcissism and only emphasizes them. I'd say he only "loves" Sage as much as an extremely self absorbed self centered egotistical narcissist possibly can, which is really it being an extension of loving himself, through what he has created.

He's very conditionally affectionate towards her and praises her only when she does exactly what he wants for his selfish gain and in ways that also praise him as her creator/father for being capable of making such an impressive creation. He gets aggressive and angry at her for any less, as we see the second she suggests something he doesn't like. Even when it's done in his best interests, so long as it's not done the exact way he wants it, he'll blow up at her.

I'd imagine a good dad loves their child much more unconditionally instead of a relationship based on what it can do for him. I don't think good dads praise their child for being "loyal and perfectly effective" like he does, that'd be pretty concerning. And the way he attributes all her success and genius to himself for being her father too, which I also imagine isn't a very good dad thing to do, putting all your child's accomplishments down to "it's because I made you!"

This memo really does say it all:

Also there's the way she was built to protect him instead of the other way around so he lets her die for him. I don't think any good dad would let their child go on a snicide mission to save him and the world he wants to rule lol

I think that no matter how he might show affection towards her and see her as a daughter so long as she does what he wants, with his conditions and reasoning behind what he's doing, he's not really a good dad. Because it's really about his personal gain in what he gets out of it and wanting to continue to encourage it with high praise and of course his self love with all the bragging opportunities all the time. And that's how a bad dad can seem loving and affectionate.

He's capable of love alright, self love. XD And it makes sense Sage is the first person he's shown high praise and affection, with the way she cares so deeply about him, prioritizes his safety and desires, and is very loyal and enthusiastic to serve him. And she's actually successful and efficient and an impressive life-like artificial creation? Of course he's gonna like her, she loves him like he loves himself- and he can love himself even harder by praising himself through her!

So yes, it makes sense that he likes her, wants to keep her around, and praises her so highly. She's useful to him and praising her praises himself and as long as she keeps serving him with that loyalty and being a big source of pride for him with her existence proving what a brilliant creator he is by being an impressive creator, then it'll stay that way, besides the occasions he can still very much get cruel and snap at her if she does things he doesn't want or fails him in any way.

So yeah every aspect of their dynamic and relationship so far has been handled really well in ways that feel good and accurate to the character established. I like how they decided to build on and emphasize his existing traits to for a type of development that doesn't suddenly completely change his strong static character. His relationship with Sage has actually just shown a great example of the selfish conditions that he can be willing to appear as a praising father!