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#steps for fast hair growth
ceyhanmedya · 2 years
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Fast hair growth methods
New Post has been published on https://ayseturkum.com/?p=37
Fast hair growth methods
Some people’s hair grows very hard. There is not even a method that they did not do to extend it. In fact, diet, regular grooming and cutting have great effects on the growth of your hair.
watch what you eat
In order for your hair to grow fast, you should choose protein-based foods. Foods such as meat, milk, eggs will not only facilitate hair growth, but will also help in its nutrition. Also avoid caffeinated and alcoholic foods. Caffeine and alcohol cause damage to your hair.
Take care of your hair while in the shower
Do not wash your hair with very hot or cold water. Hot water does not activate your hair follicles. Therefore, choose to wash your hair with lukewarm water. Because warm water allows the cells in your scalp to activate.
give a massage
The massage we will apply to your scalp is also of great importance in the growth of your hair. Since you have stimulated your scalp with this massage, your hair follicles will be revitalized.
for water
Consuming plenty of water has a great role in hair growth. Water not only benefits your health, but also nourishes your hair and makes it grow faster.
Get your fractures removed regularly
In order for your hair to grow fast, you should cut the ends of the ends at regular intervals. Excessive hair breakage causes delayed growth.
It is important to use it correctly
One of the important tips to remember is that you should apply the shampoo to the bottom of your hair and the conditioner only to the ends of your hair.
Stay away from shapers
If you want your hair to grow a little faster, you should not use spray and gel stylers for a while. When these substances reach the roots of the hair, they will cause your hair follicles to become clogged, causing them to grow more slowly.
7 recipes for hair growth
Masks made in natural ways help healthy and fast hair growth as well as healthy nutrition. With these 7 formulas, it is possible for your hair to grow healthily!
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writingoddess1125 · 9 months
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You take care of their hair
You x One Peice Characters
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Luffy, Buggy, Mihawk, Sanji, Zoro, Usopp
Buggy
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Buggy hair is long and truthfully very beautiful. He takes pride in it secretly even if he doesn't let anyone know- When you get there and start taking care of his hair it flourishes.
"You have such pretty hair!" Yoj gush as you moisturize the long blue locks
"SHUT UP!"
He is like a l'oreal model at this point and will step out to do shows with his hair down sometimes. Loves it when you wash his hair too and will make cute noises when you scratch his scalp. Enjoys the nice scents you add to his hair as well.
"Oi- I like the Candy Apple scent more-"
Sanji
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Oh Sanji is a sap for this, Taking your willingness to care for his hair as a show of love- however that's for you to decide if it is.
"If this is how we say we love each other I gladly accept~"
His hair can be a bit tricky, It's a lot thicker then most would assume and can hold scents of whatever he was cooking. Paired with the fact his hair will be lighter on top compared to the bottom due to the sun bleaching it. However he does love it and finds cleanliness important.
"Vanilla please my love~"
Luffy
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He is a struggle- Getty Luffy lanky ass in the bath is a pain in the ass and washing his hair is even more troubling. His wide curls like just act as a magnet for everything it seems and you have to go picking through it.
"Is this a damn cookie?!"
Once you get his hair to be a untangled it's really pretty. Dark shiny curls that reflect the sunlight like a halo. While he still fussed he's more willing as time goes. Will randomly talk about whatever comes to mind, or eat snacks as you comb through his hair.
"I like the Ocean Breeze soap more (Y/N)"
Zoro
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Oh Zoro- He tries to dodge you every chance he gets. It takes you catching him when he was hiding in the storage closet and ended up falling asleep.
"You smell like a barn- Move you ass..." You will threaten. Making him grumbled but comply non the less.
He's just as bad as Luffy but will just sit and pout as you wash his hair. Luckily it's short but it can get very oily- especially with how much he trains. You will also help him trim his hair, keeping it as even as possible. While he doesn't say it, he does appreciate the care. Will fall asleep as you do his hair.
"Mint- Mint is fine..."
Usopp
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While you do wash his locs for him most of your time is spent separating and retwisting them. Buying good oils for his hair and spending a least and few solid hours retwisting the new growth on his hair.
"How does your hair grow so fast?!"
You question as you sort through the locs one by one and every two weeks washing them and reapply products to them. Usopp appreciates the help truthfully, since it takes away something he has to do for himself. He will tell stories as you do his hair, talking about made up adventures and tell jokes.
"Hmm I am tied between the Coconut scent or the Passionfruit both remind me of this amazing adventure I had once-"
He picks both.
Mihawk
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Mihawk is used to doing his own hair, smoothing it back to fit under his had with ease. However when your jolly ass appears it seems you must take control of the situation.
He doesn't mind however, enjoying the pampering. Enjoys the sensation of you running your fingers through his hair. His Hair needs some serious moisture so you add a small bit of oil to it, Especially since his hair is surprisingly thick, dense and likes to frizz. It's not surprising to find some fuzzies from his hat in his hair as well.
"Your hair spikes up so much- Like a chicken ass-"
Will grumble in disagreement of the comparison however continues to let you handle his hair, will also take care of his beard and adds nice beard balms as well as line it up for him- If he feels like letting you. Will read while you do it and sip his favorite wine.
"The bergamot scent is very nice-
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
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Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 
Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 
First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 
It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 
The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 
As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 
Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 
Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 
Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 
Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.
Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson." 
Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea. 
"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--" 
"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 
"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 
"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 
"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 
"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though." 
He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 
Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  
The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 
 "Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 
Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 
"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"
They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him. 
Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes. 
A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it. 
Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.
"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise. 
Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement. 
He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose. 
“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.” 
Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest. 
The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time. 
“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it. 
One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands. 
“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.” 
Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm.  “You can touch mine if you want.” 
Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second. 
He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up. 
Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red. 
“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?” 
Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face. 
“Did he do that?” He asked. 
Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?” 
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?” 
Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up. 
“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.” 
It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something. 
Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy. 
As always, it turned out to be the wrong move. 
"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room. 
“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds. 
The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!" 
Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him. 
“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp. 
The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things. 
“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back. 
This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces. 
"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently.  “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”
"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway. 
Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady. 
Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both. 
Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with. 
Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently. 
“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here." 
Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise. 
 “No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children. 
"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare. 
 As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.
 "He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.
"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”
"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!" 
Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together. 
"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step. 
"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back. 
“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.” 
He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was. 
“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.
One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it. 
The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him. 
It was fake as hell, but it worked. 
“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.  
 Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that. 
xXx 
Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list. 
He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt. 
It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them. 
It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on. 
They really were looking for someone. 
Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.
Them. 
Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards. 
“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy. 
She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke. 
His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.
“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel. 
Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide. 
Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy. 
Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself. 
"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell. 
"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels. 
He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet. 
Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.
Food workers.
Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes. 
"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it. 
Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”  
‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held. 
“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways. 
Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another. 
"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.” 
Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees. 
Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down. 
Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head. 
Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them. 
What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent. 
Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale. 
‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’ 
Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed. 
Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful. 
Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong. 
Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat. 
It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)  
Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high. 
Worse?
This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look. 
Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.
Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.
What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls. 
“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that. 
The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order. 
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pastel-nature · 2 years
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My Pretty Little Bastard
Yandere!Aemond Targaryen x Reader
A/N: All characters in this fic have been properly aged up to 18+. Please forgive spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language.
TW: abusive behavior, stalking, breach of privacy, targcest between uncle and niece, violence, implied noncon.
You had no dragon. The egg given to you did not hatch nor did the riderless dragons at the pit and Dragonstone responded to your attempts.
And so, that is how you were made to stood beside Aemond at the Dragon pit during mandatory lessons. You both are alike. Or so that’s what people think. You and Aemond share not one likeness besides being a dragonless Targaryen. And no, you did not share any fondness toward each other.
The flowers he gifted you are beautiful, not so much with the words that escaped his lips when he gave them to you. Pretty flowers for a pretty bastard.
His clammy cold hand as he jerked yours away from Dreamfyre. Helaena often thought it would be fun for you both to at least know what it feels like to pet a dragon. Thankfully she catches up fast.
His feet quick to catch up with you whenever you would run to your twin, Jace. A bastard and a craven, he taunted.
So you learn to keep your distance from Aemond in the first place, avoid him, say nothing to him, look away when his eyes met yours. You even learn to identify his steps, so you can quickly turn away whenever he was near. 
Yet his rage and distaste for you grew stronger by the day. If your brothers or parents are near, he would look at you in the eyes and mouthed the word ‘bastard’. When he catches you without them, he would lean in and whisper to you, nadresy, it means bastard in valyrian. God have mercy if he catches you all alone with no one around to help you, one time he slammed you to the wall so hard your ears rung. Recently turned 10 and in growth spurt, he stood over you, his deep blue eyes bore to yours as if willing you to die right there and then. His hand crept to your neck, you were sure he would go and squeeze the life out of you. Luckily your septa realized you were missing and was calling out for you. Then that night at Driftmark happened, and your life changes forever.
Her, he pointed towards you as if you were some cattle. I want her as recompense for my eye.
You cried, clawed, plead to no avail. Everyone thought it best for you to bind and appease the boy who now rode the largest dragon.
They promised to visit and send you letters, yet it did not ease the dread as you sail to King’s Landing.
And that is how you end up amongst the Greens in King’s Landing, alone, largely ignored safe for the occasion when you had to show up as Aemond’s betrothed. 
Aemond quickly grew into the role of the warrior for his family, known for his skill as a warrior and his dragon, Vhagar. Ruthless and ambitious, he is a fearsome sight to behold. 
You had heard maids and nobles described as being tall and handsome, with silver long silver hair, the Targaryen family traits. What good husband he would make, you heard a lady swoon.
They did not know, they never will. Much to your chagrin, Aemond had mastered a sweet and loving facade to mask his violent and obsessive behavior.
As your wedding day approaches, Aemond becomes increasingly obsessed with you, and begins to exhibit signs of worrying behavior. 
He would follow you or have people do so everywhere you go. It is clear by now that all your maids and guards are deep in his pocket.
Enraged whenever you speak to or spend time with anyone else. 
You are my betrothed, do you seek to besmirch our family name by acting so wantonly with others?
And if harsh words fail, he would gently stroke your hair, citing that this soon to be marriage is the only thing keeping the Seven Realms from civil war. He is proud to serve his duty and so should you.
Even your family letters were not save from his hands. Sure, you received them on regular basis, yet at times the letters felt… fabricated. The stamps and handwriting in tact but as a princess you know there are people for hire who are good at forging one. 
You tried to convince yourself that this is just your paranoia talking.
But then you secretly paid one of the stable boy to send a letter for you. Send it outside the Red Keep, you said as you slipped the boy one of your emerald ring. No, you did not have access to any coins either, thanks to Aemond.
He found out. The boy was dragged before you, half dead, his back flayed open. You were terrified of Aemond's violent outburst, and begs him to calm down and listen to reason. Aemond, however, is beyond reason, and is consumed by his rage. In the end the stable boy was ‘mercifully dispatched’, but only after his mother was involved.
You realize that it is impossible to be with someone who is capable of such violent and obsessive behavior, and seek to break off the engagement. Every minute you spent with your delirium and sickly grandfather you would whisper -beg, for him to wake up and put an end to this nightmare of a betrothal.
He knows, he must have, but you did not care, for Aemond could not possibly hurt the King. 
Stupid you, he did not need to.
Rumors began circulating on how you had been so enamored by the prince that you seek his bed every night. Wanton and brazen, Rhaenyra’s daughter for sure.
Moon teas have been prepared for you on a daily basis.
Within weeks everything fell into place, your mother’s consent, The King and Queens’s approval, even House Velaryon agreed to bank your dowry.
It just so happens that the High Septon himself appears to be in the court, as well as notable Lords and Ladies of Seven Realms.
What perfect time for a wedding, Aemond in his gleaming black and gold tunic, leaned in and whispered, don’t you think so my pretty little bastard?
A/N: Thank you for reading. I have another scenario in mind where Dance of Dragons civil war still happens but I have no idea whether to make it a part 2 of this story or start another one. Stay tuned, all feedback and criticism are welcome.
Part 2 is out:
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cupidastrology · 2 years
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𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
please do not repost or copy my work.
you may see an indepth edition of the planets in the 1st house on my post plus, see to subscribe on the post here.
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sun in the 1st house: skin shimmers and is bright, clothing is worn in yellows and golds, every step you take you attract attention and heads turn, getting involved with events or situations that showcase mainly natural charisma and confidence.
moon in the 1st house: emotions are at the forefront, motherly influence is a big deal, easy to express yourself or very embarrassing, getting in touch with your environment an emotional way, attraction to outfits that are full of frills and in thick fabrics.
mercury in the 1st house: your thoughts and methods of research are a big deal to your environment, growing up with lots of knowledge and observation from family members or grandparents, teaching old and new ways throughout childhood, involvement of bicycling or rollerskating in environment.
venus in the 1st house: romance will always be a big deal in life, turning heads and an easy seducer, many relationships may walk into your life or many suitors throughout your growth years, wearing clothing that is risky, revealing, or graceful, easy to persuade or get what you want directly.
mars in the 1st house: coming across aggressive or violent situations or peoples in your youth, aggressive or passionate upbringing, childhood is full of activity and motivation, passionate childhood environment or lots of action taking place, growing up very fast, stubborn children.
jupiter in the 1st house: skin may glow or there is a way of looking more youthful than others in your friend group or study group, childhood was full of travel and opportunity, getting in touch with various religions or beliefs from a young age, wearing various colors on one outfit, always seeking new in your looks or style.
saturn in the 1st house: many limitations or a need to learn hard lessons from a young age, childhood environment may have been restricted or of limited resources, access to all but unable to understand what you were getting into with environment, needing to pick your circle of friendships, wearing tight or dark clothing.
neptune in the 1st house: dreamy, almost not present in the physical, your looks and your presence is sometimes ignored and sometimes considered, colors of the ocean or of silver may be of your eye, involved with otherworldly like styles involving hair, eyes, and eyebrows. it can be hard to decipher whom is best to stay around, getting manipulated or coerced into crazy events at a young age.
uranus in the 1st house: unexpected travels and changes with direction in the childhood, constantly needing to change through family or staying with family members randomly. looks are eccentric, weird, odd, and uncomfortable to others. always open to trying new ways to live throughout younger years of life.
pluto in the 1st house: daring, unsympathetic, and magnetic from the childhood. you may have gone through many unexpected and hurtful events ringing with obsession and pain. always able to pull through no matter what; your presence is extremely strong and very intimidating to others. many may not like you, but this makes it easy to seek out your soul tribe.
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topguncortez · 9 months
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Don't Try to Be the Hero || Whumptober Day 5 - B. Floyd
whumptober masterlist || whumptober taglist form
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synopsis: Bob always dreamed that one day he'd be superman, and one day that dream came true. . . almost
word count: 4.1k
@ailesswhumptober prompt: held at gun point
warnings: domestic violence, teen pregnancy, being held a gun point, gun shots, character death.
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When Bob Floyd was six years old, his kindergarten teacher Mrs. Adams asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up and he responded with: 
“Clark Kent! Superman!” 
And the whole class burst out laughing. Even sweet, elderly Mrs. Adams couldn’t help but crack a smile at little Bobby Floyd’s answer. Bob was by far the smallest kindergartner in his class, by size and height. He had big, round glasses that would fall down his nose at the simplest things he would do. They had duct tape on one side of them due to Johnny Smith throwing a dodgeball at him. His parents didn’t have enough money to get him a new pair of glasses, so Bob had to deal with the broken pair until his yearly eye exam. 
The ridicule didn’t just end in kindergarten, it followed Bob throughout grade school, into middle school, and high school. Bob was a late bloomer and didn’t hit his growth spurt until his senior year of high school. At 6’2, Bob was scrawny, his ribs poking out. His dad encouraged him to join the football team, but the only position the coach would give him was waterboy. The boys on the team, most of them who had remembered Bob’s answer from kindergarten would tease him relentlessly. 
“Let’s see if you can get out of this, Clark Kent!” Johnny Smith snickered as he slammed the locker door shut with Bob on the inside. Bob was stuck inside that cold, dark locker for hours, crying and screaming, hoping that someone would come by and get him. And two hours later, someone did. Someone who Bob swore was an angel. 
“Holy shit!” She cursed as she opened the locker, “Are you alright?” 
Bob was mesmerized in that moment. The bright gym lights created what he swore was a halo over her head, as she looked with concerned eyes over his body for any injuries. His throat was dry as he reached his hand out. 
“I’m Bobby,” He muttered. She smiled at him. A genuine smile. Not one of those mocking smiles he usually got from girls. He noticed her cheerleading uniform and the bow in her hair. 
“I’m Y/N,” She shook his hand. 
That night, Bob had ridden his bike home as fast as he possibly could. He didn’t even let the tires stop spinning when he jumped off of it and ran up to his room. He pulled out the sketchbook that he hid under the loose floorboard from his father, opened to the first blank page, and began to draw. Bob had been drawing comics for as long as he could. Drawing himself like he was Clark Kent, with muscles and a ripped abdomen. Every time he tried to draw his Lois Lane, it never looked right, until now. Bob stuck his tongue out of his mouth, concentrating as he remembered the look on her face when she opened the locker. 
“Lois Lane. . . Y/N,” Bob muttered. 
And just like the real SuperWoman, Y/N seemed to always be by Bob’s side when he needed help saving the day. Bob had learned that Y/N was Johnny Smith’s girlfriend, watching them at their lunch table full of jocks. She always sat on his lap, even if she tried to sit in her own chair, Johnny always pulled her into his lap. The smile on her face was not as bright as it was the day she shook Bob’s hand. Bob had noticed, that even though it was lunchtime, she never did eat. She just sipped on her water and talked to her friends. 
However, Bob did notice her real smile whenever she looked at him. Usually, the cheerleaders practice at the same time as the football players. Bob would occasionally look over towards them just in time to catch Y/N’s eye on him. She would send him a small smile and a wave, and all Bob could do was blush and look away. 
“Stare at my girl again, Floyd, and I’ll put you in a grave,” Johnny threatened as he stepped off the field to grab one of the cups of Gatorade Bob had filled. Johnny crumbled up the paper cup and threw it at Bob as he jogged back out to the field. Bob looked over his shoulder and noticed Y/N’s frown at the interaction. 
Bob heeded Johnny’s warning and didn’t look or interact with Y/N. Until one night, when Bob was leaving the locker room after spending hours washing the practice jerseys and getting ready for the game on Friday, he found Y/N, tears running down her face, shakily trying to type on her phone. She had a red mark across her cheek that looked like it was going to start to bruise. 
“Y/N?” Bob asked softly. 
The girl jumped and turned to see him standing there, looking at her with concern, “C-Can you dr-drive me home? Johnny was supposed to take me home but he forgot.” 
Bob looked down at his watch, “Practice was over three hours ago. Have you been here the whole time?” Y/N bit her lip, deciding what to respond with. But Bob didn’t need her to answer, it was clear by the way she was shivering in the October air, “C’mon. I’ll take you home.” 
Y/N didn’t hesitate and followed Bob to his beat-up old truck in the parking lot. The second they were in the cab, Bob turned the truck on and cracked the heat up. Y/N let out a sigh as she felt the warmth seep into her bones. She gave him her address and Bob began the drive. 
Every so often he’d look over at her, noticing the bruise on her cheek. He couldn’t stop his mind from jumping to a sickening conclusion. He swallowed and sat up a bit in his seat, before looking back over at Y/N. 
“How’d you get that bruise?” Bob blurted out. His eyes went slightly wide at the sudden burst of confidence. 
Y/N swallowed thickly and looked at Bob. He didn’t need to say what he was thinking, it was clear in his blue eyes, “It was an accident. He didn’t mean to. H-He was just upset about practice and I wasn’t helping and I-” 
“It doesn’t mean he gets to hit you,” Bob said, sincerely. 
Y/N wasn’t sure what set her off, maybe it was the tone of Bob’s voice. Maybe it was the way that he looked at her like she was the most important thing in his life. Maybe it was the simple act of kindness by turning the vent towards her. But the dam broke, and tears started running down her cheeks. Bob had pulled into her driveway as she covered her face with her hands, her sobs echoing in the quiet cab. He parked the truck and wordlessly unbuckled his seatbelt. He didn’t say anything, just giving her a safe space to cry. Bob had sisters, and knew sometimes, all they needed was a good cry and someone to be there. 
Y/N let out a gasp as she raised her head and looked at Bob, “He’s a good guy, Bobby,” She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, “He’s got offers from Clemson and Alabama, a-and he’s going to be able to provide for us and I-” 
“Wait,” Bob’s eyebrows furrowed, “Are you. . . Are you-” Y/N just nodded, knowing exactly what he was accluding to. Bob scooted over in the cab, so his thigh was touching her’s. He unbuckled her seatbelt, and Y/N all but collapsed into his side. He held her tightly in his arms, placing her head on his shoulder. Y/N cried until her tears had all run out. She lifted her head and looked at Bob, his blue eyes looked like they had tears in them as well. 
Neither one was sure who leaned in first, but it didn’t matter. Bob gently cupped Y/N’s face, his thumb wiping a stray tear from her pink cheeks. Slowly, gravity pulled them together. Y/N’s eyes fluttered from his down to his lips. She closed her eyes, as she felt his lips ghost hers, before closing the gap between the two of them. 
It was like a spark between the two of them, as Y/N sighed into the kiss. One of Bob’s hands moved to tangle in her hair, pulling just slightly. Y/N gasped as Bob slipped his tongue into her mouth. Her lips tasted like watermelon chapstick with a hint of mint. Bob’s other hand trailed down her body, feeling the soft curves under his hand. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but when Y/N tugged just right on his hair, he growled and shifted her body into his lap. 
Y/N moaned as she settled her legs on either side of his body. She rocked her hips against his, feeling him swell in his jeans. Bob’s hands moved to her thighs, gliding up the smooth skin and landing on her hips. He moved her back and forth, creating a delicious friction for the two of them. Bob’s lips moved from her’s to her jaw and down her neck. 
“Bobby,” Y/N sighed. She gently pulled him back, looking at him. His blue eyes were blown wide with lust, which made a guilty feeling settle in the pit of Y/N’s stomach. She shook her head and moved off his lap, “I’m sorry.” 
“No,” Bob shook his head, “I am. I shouldn’t have taken ad-” 
“No,” Y/N cut him off, “I wanted it too. You didn’t do anything that I didn’t want,” Bob nodded and Y/N gave him a soft smile. She ran a hand through his hair and kissed his cheek, “You’re a good man, Bobby Floyd. . . superman.” 
Bob’s jaw fell open as Y/N turned and climbed out of the truck. Bob watched her walk up the sidewalk towards her house. 
And that was one of the last times Bob Floyd saw Y/N. 
— — —
It had been 10 years since Bob had stepped into his hometown. Bob had joined the Navy his senior year of high school, shocking pretty much everyone. What was even more shocking was when his parents announced in front of the whole congregation at church that Bob had become a Naval aviator. A weapons system officer to be more precise. 
No one could believe it, but little Bobby Floyd was actually flying like he was Superman. 
He wasn’t the same scrawny boy that everyone remembers him being. He was still tall, but his once lanky body had turned into hard muscle. His cheeks had lost that baby fat that he used to have. His stomach, which once showed his ribs, now had a six-pack. His soft hands had now become calloused from hours spent in the gym and flying. But, even though Bob’s body had changed, his heart did not. 
It had been 10 years, and Bob was still madly in love with the girl who had walked away from him, Y/N. 
After that night in his truck, Bob hadn’t seen Y/N again. Her parents had found out about the pregnancy and sent her to live with an aunt for the remainder of their senior year. She had come back after a couple of years, with a little girl who looked just like her, and a ring on her finger. Y/N and Johnny Smith had gotten married about a year after their daughter was born. Johnny’s dreams of going to play for the University of Alabama had come crashing down after he tore his ACL during a game his senior year. Instead, Johnny worked at the steel mill like most of the guys who Bob went to high school with. 
It was late, and Bob found himself driving the dark streets of his hometown. There wasn’t much to do at 8:30 at night. The old farmers and their wives had gone to bed. There was only one bar in town, which was usually overrun with ranch hands and old drunks. Bob was going to keep driving around the old town square when he noticed the familiar beat-up Honda parked in front of the bar. His heart leaped in his chest as he pulled his truck into an available spot. 
Bob wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he pushed the door open, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting the girl he had fallen in love with to be standing behind the bar. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, a white tank top on her body, and a pair of jeans that fit her just right. Her hands were on her hips as she was sassing back to some drunk patron. Her smile was bright, one that Bob had seen before. 
Noticing someone had walked into the bar, Y/N looked up from her conversation with Harvey, a regular who would come in and drink until he fell asleep at the bar. She looked like she had seen a ghost as her eyes locked with Bob Floyd’s. She felt like she could cry as she quickly rounded the bar and ran to him. Y/N threw her arms around Bob’s neck, hugging him tightly. Bob didn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms around her, holding her tightly. 
Y/N pulled back and looked at Bob, “God, you’ve changed.” 
“I’m still Bob,” He shrugged. 
“No. . you’re Superman,” Y/N smiled. Bob blushed at her words and looked down at his boots, “C’mon, let me get you something.” 
“Oh, I don’t-” Bob started to say but Y/N cut him off. 
“Lemonade or Shirley Temple?” 
“Shirley Temple,” Bob nodded, “And don’t be stingy with the grenadine.” 
Y/N laughed as she walked back behind the bar. Bob settled up on a bar stool and watched as she mesmerizingly worked making his mocktail, while also getting drinks for the other patrons that walked up to the bar. She set his drink in front of him and winked.
“What brings you back?” Y/N asked, picking up a rag and cleaning down the sticky bar top. 
Bob took a sip of his drink, “Lexi had her baby. Decided to come home and see the rascal.” 
“Oh yeah,” Y/N smiled, “I gave her some of Vera’s old baby clothes and stuff. Have you seen her yet?” 
“Do you want to see pictures?” Bob asked and Y/N nodded eagerly. Bob pulled his phone out and opened the photos application. Y/N cooed as she took the phone and swiped through the photos of the baby. Her heart swelled, her eyes filling with love. 
“Oh my gosh, look at her cheeks,” Y/N glanced up from the phone and looked at Bob, “She’s got the Floyd cheeks. Just like yours.” Bob rolled his eyes, remembering how everyone used to pinch his cheeks when he was little, “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Floyd. They are adorable.” 
“Yeah well, enough about me,” Bob said and took his phone back from Y/N, “How about you? How’s Vera? And J-Johnny?” 
Y/N seemed to stiffen at the mention of her husband’s name. She glanced around the bar quickly, seeing who might be listening. It seemed like Johnny had spies everywhere she went, listening and watching her every move. 
Y/N leaned closer to Bob, “Vera is good. She’s in third grade now. . . living with my Mom in Colorado. I see her when I can.” Now that was news to Bob, but he didn’t question it. He knew that she probably had her reasons, and whatever that reason was, was probably for the best.
However, Bob did notice how Y/N didn’t mention anything about Johnny. But the look of fear in her eye when he mentioned his name was not lost on him. 
Bob sat on his barstool for the rest of the night, catching up with Y/N as she filled and refilled the drinks of the patrons in the bar. She made sure to keep Bob’s glass full, switching between water and a Shirley Temple. Bob noticed that her true smile had returned to her face, lighting up her eyes. It made Bob smile as she would laugh at something he would say, or how she hung on to every word he would say about different missions he went on. Y/N said little about her life, but she did say that she was going to school part-time during the day, and worked nights. Her parents had split about five years ago, her mother going to live near Denver and her father still living in town and working at the mill. 
Bob stayed until the last call and stayed with Y/N as she locked up the bar. She pulled on the strap of her purse and looked at Bob, “Do you think you could give me a ride home? I usually walk but-” 
“Of course,” Bob nodded. Y/N smiled at him and followed him to that same beat-up old truck that he had ten years ago. Y/N couldn’t help the blush that rose on her cheeks as she slid into the bench seat, remembering what had transpired the last time she was in the truck. She rattled off her address as Bob climbed into the driver’s seat. Bob nodded and reached forward to turn the heat on. It was like deja vu all over again, as Bob quietly drove through the streets. 
“Johnny works at the mill,” Y/N said softly, “I didn’t answer your question earlier. . . but he uh, he works at the mill.” 
Bob nodded, “Union man. Smart idea.” 
“Yeah,” Y/N whispered. 
Silence stretched back through the cab as Bob continued to drive. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he could tell something was off. He wasn’t sure if it was in Y/N’s body language or in the way she barely spoke about Johnny. He spared glances over at Y/N, as she looked out the window at the familiar streets. 
“It’s the yellow one with the red door,” Y/N pointed out. The house was cute and quaint something that was very much Y/N. Bob noticed that Y/N stiffened as she noticed a truck in the driveway, “Shit. He was supposed to be at work.” Bob’s jaw clenched as Y/N started to shake as she reached for the door handle, “Thank you, Bobby. It was nice seeing you again.” 
“Yeah, it was nice seeing you too,” Bob smiled at Y/N, “I’ll call-” 
“No,” Y/N shook her head, “No, th-that’s not a good idea. I’m sorry, Bob.” Y/N gave him a small smile as she climbed out of the truck quickly. She shut the door and moved with haste up the sidewalk to the front door. Bob waited until she was inside the front door before he pulled away from the side of the street to head home. 
Except, Bob didn’t go home. 
He wasn’t sure why, but warning signs were going off in his head as he aimlessly drove around town. There was something in the way her voice trembled as she spoke to him, and the quick way she got inside the house. Bob couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. 
“Screw it,” Bob cursed, and quickly turned the truck around to head back to Y/N’s house. He didn’t even hesitate as he put the truck in park and made his way to the front door. He raised his fist to knock on the door when he heard the crashing sound of glass followed by a scream. 
“I didn’t do anything!” A female voice cried out. And Bob knew exactly who the voice belonged to. Bob didn’t hesitate as he rammed the door down, causing the wood. 
“What the fuck!?” Johnny roared as he looked at Bob, who was standing wide-eyed in the doorway of the broken door. Johnny laughed, shaking his head, “Bob fucking Floyd. Trying to place Superman now?” 
“Bob, leave,” Y/N said, from behind Johnny. Her eyes were red and he noticed a red mark on her cheek and what looked like a handprint on her neck, “It’s okay. . .” Her eyes glanced down towards Johnny’s hand. 
“No, no, no,” Johnny shook his head. And that’s when Bob noticed the gun in Johnny’s hand, “Bob Floyd wants to play Superman. Let’s see if he can survive this,” He raised the gun and pointed it at Bob’s head. 
“No!” Y/N cried. Bob lifted his hands in surrender looking Johnny straight in the eye, “Just let him go! He won’t say anything!” 
“Shut up, bitch,” Johnny spat over his shoulder, “Bob has always tried to get in on my girl. I told you I’d put you in the grave, Floyd.”  
“Let’s just think about this,” Bob said, slowly, “This won’t end well for anyone. Not you and certainly not me. But she’s right, I won’t say anything.” 
Johnny shook his head, “Bullshit, Floyd. You’ve always wanted to be the hero.” 
Bob looked past Johnny and locked eyes with Y/N. Tears were streaming down her face as she watched the interaction. 
“Let her go,” Bob spoke, “She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need to see you shoot me. Besides, if she’s not here, she can’t be a witness to testify against you.” Johnny looked over his shoulder, and then back at Bob. Even in his crazed mind, he knew that Bob was right. Y/N would be a witness to murder if she was here. 
“You heard him,” Johnny said, “Leave.” 
Y/N shook her head, standing her ground, “No. I am not leaving so you can kill him. He didn’t do anything.” 
“You stupid bitch,” Johnny growled and turned around to face her, “Do as your told for- shit!” 
Bob moved quickly, taking his chance to strike. He jumped on his back, wrapping his arm around Johnny’s neck, and pulling tightly, choking him. The two of them fought against each other, as Bob tried to get him to drop the gun. Johnny rammed his elbow into Bob’s stomach, making him groan in pain, but Bob never let his grip falter. Bob stumbled over to the wall, pushing Johnny’s face up against it. The man groaned as Bob grabbed him by the hair, slamming his face into the wall, hearing a sickening crunch. Bob grabbed his arm that held the gun and held it behind his back. 
“You think you can just put your hands on her and get away with it?” Bob spat, as he pushed Johnny’s face against the wall. He rammed his knee in between Johnny’s legs, hitting him in the crotch. 
“She’s a whore,” Johnny spat, “The kid isn’t even mine. She’s been lying.” 
“That gives you no right,” Bob cursed. 
Johnny smirked, “You love her, don’t you? So stupidly in love with a whore. She let you hit and you never thought twice.” Bob clenched his jaw as he twisted his arm again, making him groan, “But you know what they say. . . whore’s deserve to die.” 
It happened so quickly. 
One moment, Bob thought he had control of everything. The next, he’s elbowed in the nose and stumbles away, letting go of Johnny. And before Bob could even try and stop him, Johnny fired off a shot. 
“Oh god,” Y/N’s voice floated towards Bob. He looked over to the doorway, where she stood with a growing red spot on her abdomen. Bob rushed towards her, as Johnny ran out the front door. He gently helped her to the ground, pressing his hands to the wound. He could hear the distant sound of sirens approaching. 
“You’re gonna be okay,” Bob said, his hands staining with crimson. 
Y/N shook her head, tears running down her cheeks, “I’m n-not.” 
“Yes, you are,” Bob demanded, “You are going to be just fine. And you’ll get out of here and go see Vera in Colorado and forget about this mess. You’ll forget all about this shit.” 
Y/N shakily lifted her hand and placed it on Bob’s cheek, “She has your eyes.” Bob’s jaw dropped as a shaky breath, and he looked down at her, “Take care of her, for me.” 
Bob nodded, clenching his jaw and trying to hold back tears. Bob shifted her in his arms and held her close, feeling the beat of her heart beneath his hands. He knew by the time the ambulance arrived it would all be too late. 
“You’ve always been my Superman,” Y/N whispered, her eyes fluttering shut. 
“And you’ve always been my Lois Lane.”
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taglist: @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @topgun-imagines @xoxabs88xox @cassiemitchell @seitmai @a-reader-and-a-writer @bradleybeachbabe @kmc1989 @senawashere @beautifulandvoid @ohtobeleah @oatmealisweird
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jackdaniel69nice · 29 days
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Another tokoyami bird traits post because I’m crazy
Birds have very little sense of smell so he’s got a very weak olfactory system.
Birds can’t taste capsaicin so they can’t taste spiciness. Tokoyami’s food is a bit bland to some because he never really adds any to it. On the other hand he’s one of the only people that can handle bakugo’s curry. I’m going to go out on a limb and say dark shadow can’t taste spice either.
Tokoyami has shown minor territorial traits when it comes to letting people in his room. This can be explained with him being shy but I’m going to take it a step further. I think his room is like a safe space for him and he is very paranoid about people stealing things. He HATES when things get moved around and panics if he loses something so he gets very aggressive if someone tries to touch his stuff. He also has problems with being vulnerable and having people see his things because it lets them know his interests and he hates that. Do not sit on his bed without permission. He also has food anxiety so do not touch his food in the fridge or you will die. Dark shadow is even worse about this but they keep all their stuff under the bed so as long as you stay out of there you’ll be fine.
To add onto this tokoyami also has nesting tendencies. Unfortunately Tokoyami’s mother discouraged this behavior and tried to keep him from doing it. When he was little he would make his nests under the bed because it was well protected and dark. Eventually he outgrew the bed space and moved it to the back of his closet. He still has anxiety about someone finding one of his nests so it’s very small (literally only one blanket) and he keeps his closet door locked. Dark shadow still has their nest under the bed. Tokoyami only allows himself to be in his nest if he’s having a breakdown and needs comfort. It’s sad that he denies himself basic needs because of how he was raised.
Alright this one’s a little crazy but I think it would be cool if he had two stomachs. The first stomach is pretty normal, maybe it has a gizzard component so he can digest bones. But the other one is a crop so he can carry extra food to digest later, this would make sense because of his fast metabolism and he wouldn’t need to stop to eat so much. This entire thing was inspired by joke in the light novels where they said tokoyami has a “second stomach” for anything apple related XD
Do not get me started on dark shadows digestive system I have no idea how that works. They drank in the light novels that’s all I know. I guess the stuff just disappears, unless they don’t want it too.
Tokoyami’s beak perpetually grows so he has to file it down, I’ve heard you can use certain bones to do that so that’s kinda badass B)
I’ve seen a lot of debate about whether or not tokoyami has feathers or hair and my pick is both. His feathers don’t have a hollow shaft like hawk’s does and continually grows out of his head like hair. They still have the general shape of a feather though and need to be taken care of in a similar manner. The shaft is stronger than normal hair so it sticks up when it’s shorter but it’s still flexible and won’t break. Dark shadow is responsible for all preening fumikage would be useless without them. New feather growth is still covered in a sheathing that needs to be removed. Since it grows continuously it needs to be cut and shaped, dark shadow does this with their beak. During training all kinds of dirt blood and sweat will get in his feathers so he uses a special shampoo hawks recommend to him (hawks is unfortunately on the front of the bright red bottle).
This last part is a bit sad and has some trigger warnings I guess (tw self harm, hair pulling, eating disorders). Birds don’t do well with stress and tokoyami has some bad habits because of that. He will pull his feathers and bite his nails down to the bed until they bleed. He also has trouble eating and simply won’t do it when he’s too stressed. If he did eat and has a panic attack it might come back up. He was very underweight growing up from constant stress and was malnourished because of it. He has been a lot better about these things since coming to UA and even tries to follow a strict eating schedule but he still has bad days where he may skip several meals a day. You can almost always convince him to eat an apple or white rice tho (safe foods my beloved~). He wears special nail polish to keep him from biting his nails. If all else fails dark shadow doesn’t particularly like when he hurts himself and usually tries to intervene (sometimes their state of mind is in even worse shape though).
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thetraumaking · 1 month
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The Accursed Crown:
Other Chapters
Chapter 8: An Unsocialized Pup
Once word of the princess's ability to fire bending spread. Her formal training officially began. And what better teacher than you?
Her father and grandfather were pleased with her fast growth. So much so that they gathered all the nobles and had a feast in her name. She was surrounded by praises and gifts.
She looked over at her brother. In a corner still holding tight to their mother. Many have shown grievance to her for having such a disgrace in the position of a role model. 'Don't be silly, there wasn't a moment in my life where I ever looked for his guidance.'
She enjoyed it tremendously when the adults shared a panicked laugh before awkwardly excusing themselves. Just as quickly they left, another group was as quick to take their place. And once more they filled her with more praises and compliments, asking for her schedule to see if they could present their children to her.
Playdates, how childish. She's far too busy for such pesky activities.
Closing her eyes, she folded her arms, blocking out the chattering adults. She was getting bored, the whole event was fun but now it's getting repetitive.
"If you have nothing else to say, you are dismissed." She loudly announced. It was okay to do so since her father and grandfather had already retired early. Besides, the party was for her, so she has the right to reign over it however she pleases.
Without waiting for the others to reply, she walked past them and naturally, they made way. Her headpiece was not heavy but after hours of wearing it, it became uncomfortable, she needed you to take it off for her and help her into her nightgown. The sun had long since gone, it was time for bed.
Her search came to a halt when she saw you on the balcony... with someone. Someone she doesn't know.
Her steps came to a halt when she saw the stranger grab your shoulder. What astonished her most was that you didn't show any signs of discomfort. She has seen you being touched(mostly by her mother and occasionally by Zuko) but you would more often than not make some sort of negative reaction. Your eyes would narrow or you would clench your fist or just ever so subtly roll your shoulders or straighten your back.
Wanting to take a closer look at the stranger and hear what the two of you were talking about, she snuck behind the curtain and crouched down.
Frowning, she cursed the party, it was too loud. Thanks to the music and the nobles' desperate attempt to acquaint themselves with those of higher ranking, she couldn't hear what you and the stranger were talking about. Though she did get a better look at, his? face.
Very short black hair, thick eyebrows, brown eyes, and cheeks on the hollow side with the number 167 branded on it. The man looked tired but he was smiling... at you.
Azula's jaw clenched.
His outfit was nothing to look at, a typical combat suit. But there was one thing that stood out. A phoenix pendant. Though not as defined as yours, but a phoenix nonetheless.
Which means that he also went to that camp.
You and him must have trained together or were at least in sister companies. She guesses that's how you knew him. But recalling what you have told her about the pendants, only those who are of higher "quality" graduates get to have a more defined pendent.
'The phoenix must reflect its owner,' her father once said.
It was strange for her to see you so at ease around others. The interactions she has seen of you were either being ordered by her family or you ordering the maids and guards.
Her eyes still lingered on you and that offending hand of that still rested on your shoulder. How dare this nameless nobody act so casual around you? Is he trying to get you in trouble for fraternization?
You are leaps and bounds above his league, and you are of a higher rank.
With her hands clenched, she stood up. She's not letting you get in trouble for someone like him. You had taken care of her when her own mother abandoned her, now it's her turn to return the favor.
Purposely clearing her throat loudly, she marched with the confidence of a general. She smirked when the man beside you immediately bowed. At least he knows his place. She was worried that your attention might have gone over his head.
Seeing that he had gotten enough attention from his higher to last him a lifetime, she ignored him. Instead, she looked at you, "We're done here, everyone that matters has already left. I wanna go to my room."
Without wasting another moment, she turned and began walking away from the still-bowing man, knowing full well that you would be on her heels.
While walking past her mother and brother, she heard her say something.
"Goodnight, Zuko. I love you-"
'Love you.'
That word played in her head. Mother loves Zuko.
Her gaze shifted to the side, staring at you. Then at your hand.
Quietly, she reached over and held your hand. She looked at you for any reaction and fortunately, you were fine.
Well, of course, if that man could touch you, why couldn't she? And every eyes and ears have heard and seen how close the two of you are.
With their hands swinging ever so lightly, Azula couldn't help but ask. "6, what's love?"
You let out a hum, thinking over your answer before you say it, "I wouldn't be able to give you an exact definition. Love isn't just one thing, as there are many shades within a color, love takes many forms. Love can be platonic, romantic, sexual, possessive, obsessive, unrequited, forbidden, and so on." She watched you take a deep breath, a thoughtful expression came across your face before you continued.
"Due to my lack of experience, I don't know what it is but I do know what it isn't. Love isn't the attraction or the sense of understanding you feel with broken or troubled people. It's not love if you wish and dream about the past or the regrets you might have of doing things differently. And love isn't changing yourself for the other or dreaming about pleasant scenarios together."
Her brows furrowed. "I'm... confused. But back to the first part, to the types of love. How do you tell them apart?"
"By your intentions."
There was a silence after that. The two of you had stopped walking at some point.
For some reason, Azula felt her throat dry out. Swallowing her nerves, she decided to push through, "do you love me?"
"Do you want me to say it?"
She shook her head, no.
For her, the silent confession was enough.
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keepingeahalive · 1 year
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Faybelle Thorn Headcanons:
Her full name is Faybelle Arabella Raette Thorn. Her middle names come from the First Dark Fairy and her grandmother respectively.
She shares a very loving relationship with her mother. The Dark Fairy had Faybelle when she was relatively young and devoted almost all of her energy into raising her. In turn, Faybelle looks up to her mom, wants to make her proud, and will curse anyone who says a word against her.
Her father died before she was born. She doesn’t know how, but she knows it wasn’t a natural death.
She and Ginger had known each other since childhood, but they weren’t exactly friends. They only played together because their moms were friends. The one thing Faybelle really liked about Ginger was her baking.
Faybelle hates Raven for being more powerful than her and for going against what she views as a great and powerful legacy. But she also hates the Queens in general for shaming the Dark Fairy Legacy. The Evil Queen had tampered with Sleeping Beauty’s curse, overpowering dark fairy magic and leaving Faybelle’s mom a laughingstock. 
Fairies live longer than humans, dark fairies especially. Faybelle’s mother was practically still a teenager when she had her, but it was more out of necessity because of the Evil Queen’s meddling. 
She has a huge sweet tooth.
She’s a massive dog lover. She talks to her pet pom-pom Spindle like he’s a baby and absolutely spoils him, even if he’s insanely aggressive to everyone except her.
Faybelle has had a crush on Briar since they were kids. She’d never tell anyone because of her destiny, but it’s the main reason why she teases Briar. 
Her wings are extremely sensitive, and she does not allow anyone to touch them.
She has a pair of tree-like horns that grow insanely fast. She loves them, but she clips them and hides them under her hair because they snag on everything. She hopes to grow them out once she can figure out how to slow their growth.
She was roommates with Duchess during her freshman year. It’s how they met. They have a very competitive relationship and trade playful insults with each other, but they will defend one another if someone else goes after them.
She likes watching teen dramas and spell-a-novelas unironically. She’s one of those people who cries over them with ice cream. 
She claims she’s the cousin of movie star Spella Thorne. No one is convinced.
In addition to cheerhexing, she also teaches step to spellementary school kids. 
Faybelle has been taught to control her magic from a young age. She knows more evil spells than Raven (though Raven is more powerful) and has access to incurable curses. She prefers to cast curses with an escape clause, though. Having no cure takes the fun out of these things.
She doesn’t like physical contact unless she initiates it. 
She’s surprisingly good with kids but is a horrible influence. She’s been blacklisted as a babysitter. 
Despite building up a reputation as an unapologetic mean girl with a constant need to feel included, she doesn’t know how to make friends any other way. She believes the only way people will notice her is if she makes them notice her, and this almost always backfires. 
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watchingthefallofrome · 7 months
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i just made it past the timeskip and here is my review of the previous and new character designs
Nami
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pre-timeship: cute character design, oda dresses her up like a doll. i think her character has gone through the most changes pre-timeskip and we can really see the changes in art-style with her character design. i miss the old art-style on her the most, she looked great with gangly limbs and over-sized hands, like she just stepped out of a kingdom hearts game
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post-timeskip: ultimate fanservice crewmember, even in background drawings, she's big boobs, tiny waist, big hips. i want better for you nami. i want her to be warm and protected in battle. i want her to have more comfortable shoes, the gladiator sandals look terrible. i want to give her aspirin for the back pain she must feel with her toothpick spine. i need to know her secret for growing hair that fast over two years. (super hair-growth tempo.) i love the beachy waves with the choppy bangs, she cuts her bangs herself, never let go of your roots nami
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bigmusclenm · 2 months
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Give or Take - Part 1
[Story Collection] | [●]
Bryce stepped out of his apartment building, and his curly brown hair fell across his forehead, partially hiding his olive eyes. He brushed his hair out of the way and adjusted his jacket as he descended the short front stairs. He knew it wasn’t the best time to go out for a walk, but he needed some space to think about his own life. He longed for a peaceful moment alone. He had always hated the phrase ‘existential crisis’, but he was currently struggling with multiple issues, leaving him questioning his current and future life.
At 26 years old, Bryce Harrington was an average young man who worked 8 hours a day as a Data Entry Clerk at a Research and Survey Firm. His job could easily be done by a computer, but he was grateful the firm had hired him to do it. It wasn’t the most exciting job, but he needed the money. His monotonous job played a role in his current existential crisis. However, his recently failed attempt to gain muscle mass was the major problem, resulting in a tense relationship with his roommate.
As Bryce walked down an empty street, completely alone, he thought about the events of the previous year that had led him into his current existential crisis. He had signed up for the local gym to build muscle. He wasn’t a size queen like most guys at the gym, but he wanted to see his body progressively grow. It was more about observing the progress than achieving a final result, but after a year of extreme efforts, his body was still the same.
The hurtful disappointment resulting from his lack of results felt even worse every time Bryce stared at his roommate, Mason, who had joined the gym about two months after Bryce. Starting as a somewhat chubby 6’4” man, Mason began seeing great results within a few weeks. While Bryce struggled to gain at least a pound, Mason transformed into a sexy, muscular man in just a few months. That visible transformation was precisely what Bryce longed for, but Mason got the reward.
Mason wasn’t the biggest or most imposing guy around, but for Bryce, their size difference seemed unfair. Standing at 5’8” and having reached his max at 130 pounds, Bryce had reasons to feel as though Mason had achieved more than he should have. Mason’s size and newfound confidence made him constantly stay shirtless inside their apartment, unaware that it infuriated Bryce. He had only joined the gym because Bryce had invited him, so he thought his roommate would be proud of his gains. Instead, Mason’s growth left Bryce envious and resentful toward Mason. These thoughts made Bryce feel like the worst friend ever.
Lost in his own thoughts, Bryce found himself standing at the entry of a dark alley, and he started pacing in circles. He wanted to be mad at Mason, but deep inside, he knew his roommate hadn’t given him a reason to be. Mason had been incredibly supportive throughout Bryce’s failed attempts to grow, even encouraging him to keep working out despite it being clearly useless. Bryce genuinely appreciated Mason’s kindness, but it didn’t change how he felt about him.
“Damn it! Stupid Mason and his great genetics. And his fucking annoying kindness. Fuck!” Bryce shouted out, kicking a small rock into the dark alley in frustration. “Universe, I just need a sign. Send something or someone, or…” Bryce talked out loud, but his words were interrupted by a booming voice.
“Bryce Aldaris Harrington,” a loud, deep, supernatural male voice echoed through the alley, sending shivers down Bryce’s spine. Nobody knew his strange middle name except his parents, so hearing it in a dark alley was quite scary.
“Who… who said that? How do you know my name?” Bryce said quietly, trying to sound brave but shaking in fear.
Bryce’s heart was beating fast, but he needed to know who knew his name. Despite his fear, he walked into the creepy, dark alley. Thick clouds obscured the moonlight, and he couldn’t see much. The strong smell of dampness made Bryce frown. Only the sounds of his own footsteps resounded through the alley, but suddenly, a thunder-like sound filled the alley. Shivers crawled up his spine, making him freeze in place and not letting him run away in horror.
The alley started getting colder suddenly, and a strange sensation made Bryce regret leaving the apartment. For an instant, he longed to be back with the annoyingly hot, shirtless Mason. As Bryce started panting in fear, he noticed that each breath he exhaled quickly turned into a misty cloud that disappeared after a few seconds. The place was cold, and that wasn’t normal.
When Bryce finally found the courage to turn around and head for the alley’s exit, he couldn’t take a single step because a tall figure emerged from the darkness about 10 feet away in front of him. The silhouette was imposing—much taller than Bryce’s average height—but at least it looked human. The figure was covered by an old, worn cloak that didn’t let Bryce discern any features, but as it got closer, Bryce could make out some details.
“Bryce Aldaris Harrington, I’ve been waiting for you.” The deep male voice echoed through the alley again, but this time Bryce knew it came from the tall figure approaching him.
The closer the mysterious man got, the more Bryce was amazed by his imposing size and how he seemed to loom over his small body. Even though Bryce couldn’t see his face yet because of the hood of his cloak, the darkness only accentuated the bright yellow eyes that gleamed with a supernatural light. As Bryce locked eyes with the huge man, he felt like electricity was going through his entire body, simultaneously making him feel pain and power.
“It’s time for you to discover who you are,” the towering, cloaked man declared, grabbing Bryce’s right hand and intensifying the pain and surge of power going through his body. “Bryce, son of Aldar, the first Great Gifter, you were chosen to carry an ancient power.”
“No! Stop! Stop! Let me go!” Bryce managed to say between deep groans, as his entire body felt like it was on fire.
Bryce could see nothing. While he was in pain, yellow sparks were traveling through his body, making it look like he was being electrocuted. His eyes started gleaming brightly, changing from olive green to yellow. As his eyes illuminated even more, he saw visions of unfamiliar places he could barely recognize. Ancient Egypt, Mesopotamia, Babylon, Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, Ancient China, and many others—all the names Bryce had encountered in history class—the vision took him there from the perspective of the mysterious cloaked man.
“You were chosen to bring balance among the men of this generation. You will have the ability to change men’s physical forms at your command. You will have the power to manipulate reality and alter their pasts. You’ll become The Great Gifter to the weak, but you will take away from those who see themselves as strong. However, this power comes at a cost for you. Your actions toward others will affect you. If you give, you’ll receive, but if you take, you’ll lose. Be careful, Bryce, son of Aldar; your daily actions will be listed and accumulated, and they will transform you overnight,” the cloaked man said, and even though Bryce was in immense pain, he somehow registered every word the man had spoken. Bryce understood the essence and implications of this power.
As the cloaked man finally released Bryce’s hand, the young man fell to the ground, surrounded by steam. He still felt hot, but at least the pain had stopped. Bryce was panting heavily, and his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. His limbs were sore, but it wasn’t that bad. Despite how weird his body felt, his mind was overwhelmed by his just-acquired knowledge. He didn’t know how it had happened, but now he knew he could make other men grow or shrink just by thinking about it. However, this had a direct impact on his own body. If he made others grow, his own body would grow, but if he made others shrink, his own body would shrink.
“Man, I need expla…” Bryce said, looking up and realizing he was completely alone. “...nations. What the hell? Hey! ‘Scary Shazam’, where did you go? You can’t leave me just like that. I have questions. Man…?” Bryce insisted, but no one was there to answer.
He instantly got on his feet and started looking around, feeling even more scared now that the man had vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. There was no evidence to prove that it hadn’t been a hallucination. The only indication that the pain and the whole scene had been real was the steam emanating from his heated body. Everything else felt like a weird dream or a brief moment of insanity. Even then, deep inside him, he knew everything about the power the cloaked man had bestowed upon him.
“I’m unsure if I’ve finally lost my mind or if it was all real.” Bryce talked to himself as he quickly walked out of the alley, trying to act cool even though he was still in shock. “I guess the only way to find out is by trying, but who...” Bryce stopped as he thought about Mason. The guy had definitely gained more muscle mass than he deserved, so it would only be fair to take some size from him. “No, no, he’s my friend. I can’t do that to him. Or can I?”
Bryce's heart was split. Part of him knew Mason didn’t deserve to lose the size he had worked so hard for, especially because he wasn’t a bad guy. He knew that the power was meant to punish only those who used their size for bad purposes, which wasn’t Mason’s case. The more Bryce thought about it, the more he opposed the idea of shrinking Mason’s muscles. The only other way to try his newly acquired power was to give Mason some size, which would result in Bryce’s body also growing. That seemed like a better idea.
On his way back to the apartment, Bryce pondered the potential consequences the power could have on his body. He knew that every time he increased a man’s size, his own body would grow by ¼ of that size. Being someone who worked with statistics and numbers every day, he did the math and realized that if he gave Mason 12 pounds of muscle, his own body would only gain 3 pounds. This sounded like a small gain for Bryce, but for Mason, it would be a more significant difference. Bryce groaned in anger as he realized his little experiment would only increase the size difference between them.
For a few seconds, he thought about waiting till the morning to find another guinea pig, but he knew he needed to change someone before bed. He was aware that his power would work overnight. He could spend the entire day thinking about growing men, but the changes would happen overnight. The men would grow while they slept, just like Bryce’s body would do. Additionally, only Bryce and the person directly affected by his power would be aware of the change, meaning that for everybody else, the person who had grown or shrunk had always been that way. The more Bryce thought about it, the more he understood the cloaked man’s words.
By the time he arrived at the apartment, Bryce already had a plan. He had finally decided to use the power to grow Mason and gain some size himself. Even though he hated to think about an even bigger Mason, the fact that his roommate would be aware of the change and very likely scared of it was a fun touch to Bryce’s plan. As Bryce entered the apartment, he couldn’t hide the devilish grin on his face.
"Hey, Bry, I was getting worried. I thought something bad had happened to you,” Mason said, sitting on the couch, shirtless as always. His nicely shaped arms, bulging pecs, and abs were on full display for Bryce to observe.
“Why would something bad happen to me? Is it because I’m short and thin?” Bryce replied angrily as he passed by the couch.
“No, no… I didn’t say that, and I didn’t mean anything like that. I was just worried. You know I care about you… I mean, you’re my friend,” Mason said, standing up from the couch to face Bryce.
As Mason blocked his way, Bryce observed his annoyingly good-looking roommate’s well-defined body. Mason was tall and had naturally broad shoulders that looked even better with his deltoids bulging nicely. His pecs looked full but not huge yet. His abs were perfectly defined, very different from his previously pudgy midsection. His waist was narrow, but his hips were somewhat wide, making him look hot. Then, as Bryce looked up into Mason’s honey-colored eyes, he couldn’t deny that the young man was handsome. His messy, dirty blonde hair was the perfect touch for his pretty and masculine face. 
“Mason, I’m fine. Okay? You don’t have to worry about me. Now, get out of my way and go get a shirt before you catch a cold,” Bryce said as he pushed Mason aside, making the tall man frown.
“I was just worried; is that bad?” Mason said, sounding hurt, which made Bryce stop on his way to his room.
“Dude, I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need a bodyguard, and even if I did, I’d want someone bigger,” Bryce said, turning around to face Mason. The hurt on the tall man’s face was evident. “You know what? Grow 50 pounds of muscles, and then maybe I’ll let you be my bodyguard. Deal?”
As soon as these words came out of Bryce’s mouth, the world stopped for a second, and a supernatural-holographic text box appeared between him and Mason. The box contained Mason’s stats and measurements. Bryce didn’t know about this part, and he was surprised because the power was ancient. He didn’t know this was possible, but he just smiled and read Mason’s information.
“Name: Mason Austin Jameson Age: 25 years, 10 months, and 7 days Height: 6’4” Weight: 190.2 pounds”
There was more detailed information about Mason, but at the moment, the general stats were all Bryce needed to know. As the text box disappeared again, he realized Mason hadn’t noticed anything, and not a second had passed.
“Whatever,” Mason said, sounding angry, as he started walking to his bedroom, looking sad. “If I get 50 pounds heavier, you’ll hate me even more. See you in the morning, buddy. I’m glad you’re fine,” Mason added before walking into his room and slamming the door behind him.
“I’m better than ever before.” Bryce smiled devilishly again and walked into his own room.
As he collapsed on his bed, Bryce realized he had just granted Mason 50 pounds of muscle, which was way more than he had gained over the 10 months he had been working out. It was definitely a big change, but it also meant 12.5 pounds of muscle for Bryce, which was 12.5 more than the pounds he had gained after a year of hard work at the gym. It didn’t sound like much, but it was only to test his power. He needed to know if it actually worked so he could grow many others to see the transformation he had desired so much finally. And about Mason, he could always shrink him later.
Bryce was so excited about growing overnight that he had trouble falling asleep. He felt his heart beating fast with excitement, and his mind couldn’t stop thinking about the endless possibilities. Many ideas came to mind as he realized he could change the dynamics of society. Mason was only the first step in the balance he would bring into the world.
Even at work, there was a man who had been hired just a few months before and, due to his size and good looks, had recently been promoted. This resulted in him bullying some of Bryce's coworkers. He seemed like a perfect candidate for losing some of his size, but Bryce had to consider the consequences because that would mean losing some of his own size too. It was complicated, but he was willing to test The Great Gifter’s powers.
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blayeart · 2 months
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Frankenstein’s Monster - Love Without Judgment (Fanfiction)
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This story is an alternate universe within the world of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. (1818) It takes place after chapter 16 when the cottagers reject the monster, and he burns their cottage down once they abandon it. …At the peak of his anguish, he encounters a generous woman who offers him aid. He clings to his new protector with all hope in the world. OC x Canon / Romance / Comfort 
Ch.1
It was spring when she beheld the creature for the first time. He quickly stumbled down the road past her home as villagers shouted and tossed any item his way that could do harm. She cracked open her front door to catch a glimpse of the commotion outside. That was when she saw the cause of the villager's cries. The creature's height stood far above the greenery that lined her cottage. He held his bloodied hand close to his chest, a recent injury. What a sight. But she did not scream; she simply held her hand over her gaping mouth and watched as the creature ran as fast as his legs could carry him, blood trickling a faint trail. Men and women cursed his way: “Demon,” “Evil,” and “Monster.” They were convinced he was only here to do evil, such as kill children or destroy crops. “An omen from the devil,” one villager told her, “not to be trusted.”
But she watched with sympathetic eyes. How did he end up this way? What has he done to deserve such treatment? Were these acts of violence towards him deserved? After all, it was somewhat reminiscent. But a being like him, what could he be? And with such a humane expression, as if he were on the verge of tears, she wanted to find out for herself. Once the crowds subsided, she packed a medicine bag and bravely followed the blood trail.
She made her route into the woods, hoping it wasn’t too late to find him. The springtime brought fresh growth, such as wildflowers and tall grass. After what felt to be an hour searching amongst the brush, she heard the cries and groans of a tortured soul. Behind a thick oak, he sat, gripping his wrist in anguish. He clasped at the sizeable bloody gash on his palm. Frightened villagers likely caused this injury. Their eyes met, and he cowered, hiding his face above all else. He was more aware than anyone of what he looked like. While he waited in suspense for her screams, she took a moment to look him over. The sight was a frightening one and caused her to halt and step away. Her body told her to run but she stood her ground, seeing as he clearly was not a threat at this moment. Nature suited him; his form seemed to blend into the bark. He wore tattered clothes that hardly fit him. He was also barefoot and dirty. But what surprised her most was that even hunched over on the ground, she could tell he was a massive.
“How are you not afraid?” He spoke with a deep, gravelly voice, full of confusion. As he began to behold her, his eyes could not tear away anymore. She was a beautiful woman with a lovely dark complexion; average in size but still petite compared to him. She wore a grey skirt with a white apron, her sleeves were long and loose, and her waist was cinched by a corset.
“I am a little afraid,” she admitted, circling the oak while taking in the sight of his ghastly complexion. “Are you a demon?” She held back any sign of kindness for now. His discolored skin, soulless orbs, many scars, and long black hair made him feel otherworldly. She might not have dared approach him if she had found him standing. Meanwhile, her words stirred him.
“I am not! I am-” But he looked down in defeat and anger. He did not want to say what he believed he was- a monster. Instead, he returned his attention to the stinging pain on his hand. This caught her attention and at last, she kneeled before him to get a look at the wound herself. He was speechless and too scared to make a sudden move and frighten her. Because God knows, he had only ever frightened those around him. 
“Let me see your hand.” She commanded, and so he did. She pulled out a bottle from her bag and began to explain. “I’ll clean your wound, but this will hurt. Is that alright?” He nodded and couldn’t imagine this pain to be any worse than what he had experienced so far. She poured water gently over the cut, in which he only flinched from the sudden cold. As the blood flowed off, she brought out another bottle, this time explaining that this pain would indefinitely be worse. Indeed, even he does not know the pain of alcohol being poured directly on an open wound. “This will hurt far more, but again, the feeling of pain is a good thing.”
“I trust you.” He admitted quietly, though he had no reason to. As the solution was poured over the wound, he instantly curled up in place and groaned, trembling from the unusual, shocking sensation. Yes, pain. It seems he was fated to always receive pain from those around him. “Arg- It hurts.” He did everything in his power not to tear away from the women. He did not want to seem ungrateful, as this was the only person who attempted to help him. She held his forearm as a sign of support and that he must wait for the pain to subside. It felt like forever, but finally, he overcame the strange treatment. The gentle touch of this woman had been such a blessing that alone kept him still and patient. In silence, she brought out a long strip of cloth and carefully wrapped up his wound. During this time, he discreetly observed her face. So beautiful, he thought, an angel is before me. But her face also filled him with a kind of torment that he may never have her. Too lovely for the likes of me. I must have tripped at some point and am hallucinating.
“Now do not remove that bandage for a while, and try not to close or open your hand; a gash like that can easily reopen.” He did as she instructed and laid his hand back onto his thigh, keeping his hand in a relaxed pose, just like she gestured. He took a moment to collect his thoughts as she placed her bottles back into her bag.
“You have shown me more kindness than any other human I have met.” He spoke precisely, recalling the cottagers he loved so dearly. “No… not even a single being has looked at me for more than a moment without condemning my death. In fact, only the blind will give me that time of day. So why have you decided to show me decency?” It was strange, she thought. His tone was hostile. Like hatred was all he had ever known. And it was true; he anticipated fear and anger from those around him. But he needed to understand why now- was he finally shown tenderness? The small woman looked thoughtfully at the creature before speaking.
“When you fled the village, I felt you were innocent. Most are so quick to judge and be fearful of what they don’t understand. After all, I have been treated the same.” 
“A beautiful woman such as yourself being ridiculed?” She huffed at his doubt.
“Oh, you would be surprised by how close-minded these villagers are, even towards people that look like them.” She stopped before starting again. “You see, I practice medicine. The kind that will heal your wound in a reasonable amount of time.” He liked her voice; she spoke with a sense of purpose. “But medicine like this confuses people out here… because surely it must be the work of magic or some other kind of witchcraft.” She raised her brows mockingly. “Anyways… the villagers fear magic.” With a sigh, she calmed herself before saying much more. Afraid saying too much will draw out her memories. “I guess we are both devils in their eyes… So please, do not tell anyone what I’ve done for you this evening. They will burn me for it.”
“Burn you? Your own village would hurt you for acts of kindness?” She tilted her head with a sad but confirming expression. Yet he could believe it. This world was filled with horrible people, so his rage returned. “I am- once again, disappointed in the men before me. I was on my way to satiate my rage… To find my creator and try to put an end to this misery. I can still feel in myself- an unchecked hatred that wants to end all of humanity for its wrongdoings.” His head bows down toward his bandaged hand. “Oh, how I want them to feel the pain I suffer, to walk the dreaded path I have walked. Maybe then- I will be seen as an equal. But no- I am past trying to find humanity in such creatures.” He stopped himself and returned his gaze to the lovely woman beside him. It was as if he had forgotten that he had an audience that listened and stayed put. “I look like death, am treated like death, and therefore I tread the same path as death. But you- you are still here. The picture of beauty and youth before me… If I have to end all of humanity, I promise to leave you alone, unscathed.” He takes a moment to burn her image in his mind, but he wants more. He wants to reach out to her and experience the warmth of her skin on his. Just as she held his arm moments ago, despite all his vengeance, he ached for love. 
Meanwhile, she sat and listened. Feelings of intrigue and shock passed through her mind as he spoke. Despite all that he had said, she felt no closer to understanding what he was. He shifted forward slowly and lifted his unwounded hand towards her face. “May I touch your cheek or hair? I will not hurt you.” Oh, he was hopeful of experiencing the touch of a woman. Instead, she took his eager hand, stopping his advances.
“First, tell me your name,” she asks with a smile. But he cannot smile, as the question surprised him. 
“My name?” he looks around the forest, searching for an answer. “My name… My name is Adam.” 
“Such as from the Old Testament?” 
“Exactly! So you are well educated as well as skilled.” This compliment humbled her. He went on. “My creator- did not name me. But I am the first of my kind. Therefore, I have given this name to myself, rightfully so.” But he felt envious of the love that the real Adam received from his God. 
“Please, you keep bringing up this creator. Who are you referring to?” He paused after her question. There was much to explain. He feared the entire story would frighten her and prove he was a monster after all. Yet he knew he had to be vulnerable now more than ever. This was his second chance to win over the heart of a potential companion. But the overwhelming rejection from De Lacy and his family was still fresh in his mind.
“You see, I was not born from a woman like you and all others that walk the earth. I never experienced infancy or a dream-like childhood. My creator was but a single man…” Adam took a slow breath. “Two years ago, he constructed me from corpses, likely to satiate his twisted fantasy to create life in unconventional ways. However, he did not want me. Just like every other who beholds me, he fled in fear.” His eyes wandered to the dirt below him. “Leaving me truly alone and wretched… Since then, my life has been hell. Without a home or a family, I struggle to find any sort of meaning...” Adam held his tongue, no longer desiring to speak on the matter. “Oh, pardon my manners. You must tell me your name.” He redirects his attention to the maiden. 
“My name is Charlotte.” She tipped her head with a melancholy look. “I am… a little shocked to hear your story, Adam. Is this possible?” She observed him more closely but continued. “I struggle to comprehend the pain you’ve endured. I… wish I had found you sooner.” She did not feel the same disgust that most others have. It was apparent he had been treated horribly for most of his life.
“You have done more than that. I wish to repay you for your kindness somehow, whether you need me to bring wood to your home, clear snow in the winter, or any other laborious task you think I am fit for.” His offer was generous, and she pondered it. But then she chuckled as she began to imagine smaller tasks around her home that he could assist with.
“It’s humorous, actually. I have a few high places in my house that need dusting and some furniture I’d like to rearrange…” Charlotte was the owner of a large home that needed proper attention. She tapped her thumb on her chin. After hearing his story, she no longer feared the creature as she thought she would. Instead, she was intrigued to learn more. He was also a well-spoken and decent man; he would be a welcome mind to brighten up her home. Though he was not the most friendly-looking, she was not the type to judge.  
“Your home? You’re inviting me into your home?” He was taken aback.
“Or would you rather not?” She teased.
“Oh, no- I would be more than happy to come with you.” His experience with shelter up to this point had been little to none. For months, he lived in a tiny hovel with little space to move around. Before that, only the light of a fire kept him warm in the frozen winter. To stay within an actual structure was a comfort he was unfamiliar with. He wanted this more dearly than anything. And to be in a home with his lovely new protector? Had God finally taken pity on him? Oh, how eager he was to finally experience this joy. To earn her friendship and presence for as long as possible.  
“Alright, but let us wait till nightfall. I’m worried if anyone sees you enter my home, they will come for both of us. We shall keep it a secret.” And so they did. Night fell, and they returned to Charlotte’s home with darkness as their disguise. Her house sat near the edge of the village. Her home was made of stone and wood, with a lovely garden. He remembered it briefly from when he escaped the town earlier. She quickly beckoned him inside, but he had to bend down to enter through the door. Before locking up, she quickly looked up and down the road to ensure that there were no peeping eyes. 
Her home was very dark, and he stood awkwardly for a moment when a small light appeared. She began to go about the living space, lighting one oil lantern at a time. Once it was easier to maneuver with dim light, she sat by the fireplace and gestured him over again. After adding new lumber and debris, she began to use a bellow on the cinders. 
“You live alone?” Adam had just come to this conclusion. 
“Yes.” She answered simply, with no further elaboration. As the cinders glowed furiously, she gave him the duty to bring the light to a gentle flame. He pushed the handles of the mechanism until the fire was flickering. Meanwhile, she disappeared into another room, so he waited patiently. There was joy in the comforting warmth of the fire, which he was already familiar with. The living room was quite comfortable, with many decorations and artwork hanging from the walls. A well-made couch sat in the center, and he couldn’t help but brush his fingers through the wool carpet below him.
Charlotte returned, gently tapping his shoulder and praising his accomplishment. Her hand softly grazed the back of his head before she turned away again, removing her shoes and apron by the door. This gentle gesture caused him to watch her move about the room. She touched him so easily, he thought. He approached her from behind with some hesitation, and his hand came down to pat her head. She flinched away from his unexpected presence.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you...” Charlotte took note of his shy nature as he backed away. Though his presence still did cause her to falter, she wanted to look at him objectively. Adam was like a child when it came to being with other people, but still, a considerable man whose head nearly brushed her ceiling. He looked down at her with kind, woeful eyes. Charlotte took his hands and pulled him to the couch before the fire, so they were closer in height now.
“Now don’t rub my head like that, you’ll pull on my hair… See, like this.” She reached up to rub the back of his head, gently gliding her fingers over his hair. He understood right away and initiated the touch in return. She smiled and welcomed it. His large hand glided over the top of her head, avoiding her braiding. It was evident to both that this was hardly an act of friendship. But contained a certain amount of affection, which neither of them disliked.
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jasgirl-creations · 1 year
Note
I hope a genius bimbo appears and makes a world wide magic-tech so that everyone can have the body of their dreams
The press conference was a surprise, following the acquisition of Twitter the day before by reclusive billionaire M. Blume. No one had ever seen Blume before, and most people assumed the billionaire was a a man. Murmurs of surprise swept through the crowd when Blume stepped on stage. Blume was a woman in her late 20's, dressed in a plain black turtleneck. Her hair was done up in a severe professional style. She was very pretty, with full lips and beautiful eyes, but she also had the unmistakable presence of a genuine genius. Everyone in the crowd knew that she was about to reveal something world changing. Of course, it was hard to concentrate on what the billionaire was saying. All eyes were locked on her enormous chest! Blume's turtleneck sweater was stretched skin tight across a pair of heaving head-sized breasts that looked like they were about to split the outfit open. The wobbled in their restrictive confines with every breath she took, and when Blume tapped her mic to get the crowd's attention her breasts continued to jiggle for almost a full minute!
"Please, can I have your attention! Please focus! Thank you. My name is Melony Blume. Yes, I am the world's 11th richest person, and this is my first public appearance. As you now, I've recently purchased Twitter, and I'm excited to be taking the service in a new direction. Starting right now we're unveiling brand new functionality in the twitter app, free to all users." Blume tapped on her smartphone and a display scree lit up behind her. The audience could see the new Twitter interface. It looked more or less the same as before. "As you can see, we haven't made any drastic changes to the interface you all know and love. However, if you click on the profile button..." She clicked on the profile button to demonstrate, bringing up a screen with some new and unfamiliar options. "This is the new User Customization Menu. Or the "UCM." We've used IA gathered data gathered from user profiles, activities and interactions to create a fully interactive profile for each Twitter user. Users can use the UCM to modify every aspect of their appearance, both in app and IRL." She paused. Clearly the audience wasn't getting what she was saying. "To be clear, you can now modify your appearance using Twitter." A reporter from CNN raised her hand. "Do you mean you can modify your user pic? That's hardly a..." Blume cut her off. "I mean you can alter your real life physical appearance. Your height. Your weight. Your gender." Still nothing. The audience looked confused and more than a little bored. Hardly the shock and awe Blume had been expecting. She'd have to demonstrate. "Let me show you. If I go to the UCM I can access my profile..." The screen behind Blume showed dozens of toggles and sliders. She scrolled through options for skin color, hair length, hip width, muscle tone, age, posture, body odor and more. Finally she stopped on a slider for breast size. The audience could see that it was already at 300%. "As you can tell I've already used the app to adjust the size of my breasts. I'll be honest, when our engineers started this project I specifically requested that breast growth be the first option we developed. And of course, I'm always the first tester of all my projects! I'm sure you all understand how sliders work, but allow me to demonstrate. If I slide the knob to the right..." She slid her finger across the screen, and the number next to the slider increased to 400%. At nearly the exact same moment her breasts swelled, surging in size as the black turtleneck audibly strained. Blume's breasts grew so fast that they nearly knocked the phone from her hand! The crowd was silent. Staring in disbelief. Blume was breathing heavily and appeared to be a little flushed. She tugged on the neck of her sweater and fanned her face as she regained her composure. "S-so as you can see there's barely any lag at all. We included a... a pleasure incentive... to make interactions with the UCM more appealing. We think this new addition to the Twitter app will be very..." The billionaire was cut off by a scream of pleasure from the audience, followed by the crack of a broken chair. All eyes turned to the reporter from CNN. Her outfit had absolutely shredded as her breasts, thighs and ass exploded in size. She looked like she had gained 300 pounds of sexy tit and ass meat in seconds, and her poor chair hadn't been able to take the weight. Now she sat on the floor, stunned and moaning, as she gently massaged exercise ball sized boobies. As the reporters and media experts gathered around her to take pictures other moans and crashed could be heard through the crowd,. The app update was live now and people were eager to try it out! Blume tapped her mic again, trying to get the crowds attention.
"As I was saying, we think this new addition to the Twitter app will be VERY popular!"
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generalluxun · 2 months
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Based on their season 1 (Primarily) and season 2/3 (if you desire it) characterization. How do you think the characters and story of ML would develop had Marinette developed a crush on Chat & Adrien a crush on Marinette?
My thinking, taking out any given issues with the shows handling of the characters and just what I think makes sense for them based on extrapolation feels:
Ladybug is definitely a bit more overtly "Adorkable" in the publics eye, but the danger of the situation does stop her from stumbling over herself as much as Marinette did with Adrien. She is far more likely to be pushing for secret ID reveals, but probably through hints over overt action.
Adrien is not as forward with Marinette as he is as Chat with Ladybug. Even ignoring the Chat persona being an exaggeration, he also has his reputation and ingrained habits to think of. But Nino did ask him for date advice so I think he'd make more overt attempts at wooing her & probably push harder on Chloe to be nicer.
Gabriel probably hates this and may be stumping harder to yang Adrien out of school, which could force Adrien to be more quiet about his interest as well.
Chloe is... Not having a good time. Regardless of whether her feelings for Adrien are romantic, platonic, confused cos of sexuality or the like. He matters to her a lot but right after arriving at school is not only putting a lot of distance between them but seemingly holding their friendship for ransom to earn the approval of a girl Chloe has issue with.
Okay so thought about this:
Ladybug falls for Chat in Origins when he rushes in to defend her during one of her initial panic/what is happening moments. She's reminded of being protected by Socqueline (Derision is not canon, ever, but we can repurpose bits of it) She had resigned herself to being 'on her own' after her friend graduated (not expelled) now, here is someone else making her feel *safe* even in mortal peril.
She's still Ladybug, she's still the leader. She is very focused on 'protecting her protector' though. He's *her* kitty. If only he could be in more ways than are allowed...
She'll push Fu to include him more, she'll pay more attention and push to be her best self. Her plans will be a little less effective, like in Kuro Neko she's focusing too much on her partner. It won't be crippling though, but it hints at what she needs to work on.
Now on the second day when Adrien shows up, things go differently. Let's give the Limo a flat so he shows up without Chloé. The world is a bit spookier, are monsters common? He's nervous. He drops his books, and someone stoops to help him pick them up and their heads bump.
'oh ouch sorry. Here let me...' sure hands ruffle through hos hair, checking for an injury. Adrien looks up and *cue music* Marinette.
She's already set on being her 'best self' to live up to her Perfect Pawtner. So helping the new kid around? That's just what she should do!
On Adrien's end though he can't help but marvel at how much she reminds him of his mother(hear me out) He's been adrift since her disappearance. His father is distant, Nathalie is cold, and even though Chloé cares she's a hurricane in a ponytail. Marinette;leading him to the classroom, showing him his seat, and giving him tips, makes him feel *safe*. (Woo parallels!) He falls hard and fast.
He becomes a Marinette stan, furst to support her. First to go the extra mile. Talking her up and excited to see what she will do next. Every step she takes to be the 'everyday Ladybug' only males him fall harder. The 'weakspot' he has to work on is how completely uncritical he is, after all his mother could do no wrong! He doesn't make the conscious connection, but he treats Marinette the same. She's not a memory of a mother though, she's a living breathing 14yr old. She will and should make mistakes. Adrien discounts them too much, excusing/rationalizing/redirecting her shortcomings which actually inhibits her growth. 'I was wrong' is something everyone needs as a part of their life.
Chloé is in fact having a bad time(maybe?) she can't bully or daddy her way out of this. Adrien gushes about Marinette and Chloé's initial 'ewww' turns him instantly cold (only briefly though) but it is a warning. If she wants to win she has to *beat* Marinette. She needs to be better, smarter, stronger, she can't fake it. She has to compete and win! Hijinks/rivalry ensues (Marinette isn't competing for Adrien, but the chance to show up Chloé is cathartic as heck!)
What's fascinating is how various other things will shake out. Chloé's 'daddy' goes unused, most people get ignored. She can't push and shove her way out of this. Alya has to listen to Marinette gushing about Cat Noir (she knitted herself a pawprint sweater that she sleeps in, but she has to keep fangirling on the down low in public so she doesn't clue in whoever CN really is!) Nino's crush on Marinette is DoA. Do he and Alya still get together? Adrien's in Nino's ear about Mari every day.
Does Alya pull Chloé aside and say 'wtf are you even doing?' emboldened by the blonde's shift from dominance to competition. Foes Sabrina branch out, being Chloé's 'trainer' for a myriad competitions. She(they) could come into contact with a lot more people.
It's a whole AU in the making.
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oh-shtars · 3 months
Text
✨-Silence-✨
AKA
(A small snippet of the RFTS!Au as writing practice and for all of you to take a peak into my writing style and dynamic of this universe. Believe it or not, this is one of the first times I’ve ever been serious of writing something sooo, I apologise in advance.
Idk, tbh, this is really just an experiment. This exact scene won’t actually appear or play out in the actual story. In all honesty, I just made it up with what I could make sense with at the moment. Plus, there’s a little surprise update at the end. ;)
With all of that said, enjoy! 💖)
…….
“Star?”
The light gust of wind carried her voice and accompanied her every step as she kept running through the woods. Branches rustled overhead and hollow trunks echoed the sound, giving the illusion that the forest was…breathing.
The sun had even started to set a fiery orange colour in the horizon, casting eerie shadows over the tall grass. The path she’d been running through had started to fade into all different directions in the overgrown terrain. At this point, it’s a constant struggle just to stay near it. Night time was approaching, just as she had feared. And yet here she was… venturing deeper down the belly of the beast. Never in her life had she remembered the last time she ever ventured on her own.
A young 18-year-old girl. Lost in the woods? At night? The possibilities are endless. Anything could happen. Anything.
No. Not now. Get it together.
Asha quickly buried the thought away from her head, paused to take one more shaky breath, and kept running. She had to find him. She swore she saw him sped through this direction. She can’t just go back now.
In fact, she doesn’t even know if she could turn back at all.
Not after what had happened back in Rosas’ town centre…
Guilt clawed at the back of her throat and her heart thrummed against her chest. She swallowed the ugly feeling down hard and continued to search for any sign of the magical, mute boy. What had happened back there was so fast that it came to her in a blur of colour.
She vaguely remembered colours of varying dull shades that belonged to the citizens of Rosas as they crowded around them. Some curious. Some confused. But most were in awe at the things he could do. At the things he could grant them.
She only wanted him to grant a few small wishes. It didn’t seem like a heavy task. If only she knew how this small favour would snowball out of control terribly.
But all that she DID remember clearly was the fresh memory of a crowd gathering around them. Closing in. Getting curiouser and curiouser… She had lost sight of Star from the people excitedly shoving her aside to get a better look at this strange magic caster. Someone who wasn’t the king for once. Then all in one quick-
FLASH-
A strong, chaotic gust of bright magic had forcefully pushed the crowd back. Chickens grew a sudden growth spurt. A guy’s hair got so long that it touched the floor. Nearby boxes turned into the weirdest crooked shapes. And some people’s clothing transformed into ones resembling either a jester or what looked like pyjamas belonging to a retired wizard. From the mess and the noisy commotion that had occurred, Asha could just barely make out the surroundings. But among everything else, there’s one thing that worried her the most.
The area where Star had initially stood was empty.
And the only clue left from his disappearance was the trail of stardust sprinkled over the grass, leading towards the shadows of the woods.
……..
“Star?!” Asha’s voice called out once more.
Silence.
“Star, please! Hey, I-I’m sorry.” She started again, desperation and concern evident than ever.
I’m sorry! I-I don’t..I didn’t know that.. I never considered the..the possibility that they would..”
Her own tongue refused to even cooperate with her at the moment. Ashe resisted the urge to bite down in frustration.
The time when she actually needed words was the same time that she had none. She can feel the burning sensation high from within her gut and the fabric of her dress squeezed between the fingers of her balled fist. She could just never stop being this useless, can she?
The trail of stardust had faded away into nothing a while ago. Now, she can only rely on nothing but her hope.
“Come on…. You have to be around here. You have to be okay... Where are-“
Snap.
There it was. Behind that tree.
Again, Asha felt fear grab a hold of her throat. For all she knew, it could be a wild animal. Or….what if…?
Whatever was forcing her to hold back now, the need to look out for her friend was greater.
Giving herself a minute, Asha steeled herself and, ever so cautiously, began to approach the source of the sound. Leaves crackled from underneath her feet and spiked her worries. Regardless, she kept going. Finally, Asha peeked out from the other side of the tree.
ZIP-
“AAH!” She yelped as a ball of light sped just past her. It zigged and zagged in between nearby trunks with zero sense of direction. Finally, the light flew behind another tree before stumbling back out in the form of a familiar human shape of the boy she was looking for.
“Star?” Asha breathed. Step by step, she approached the figure. “Star! You’re alright! You-“
Star jolted away from her advance, heavily startled. His arms automatically rushed into a defensive stance in front of him, causing tall greenery to magically grow in between and seperate them. It had created some sort of a small, protective barrier for him.
“Wait! It’s me!…It’s me.” Asha raised both her hands up and stepped around the barrier, proving she’s no stranger or a threat. Star’s hazel eyes darted around before finally stopping to rest on her. In his panicked state, Star failed to recognise her straight away.
“Hey, It’s me…”
It was still for a few seconds. But thankfully, Star gradually showed signs of calming down. His flickering, glowing hair subtly became more steady and his face starts softening. At least… for the short time being. Tension was still clearly evident in his expression and stance. Asha noticed the boy had summoned flying dust to float right next to him. It rapidly changed in shape and form, presumably matching his racing thoughts.
He’s attempting to explain himself. Asha realised.
(Here’s a ref for what that might look like: ⬇️)
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”I’m sorry, I..You’re going a bit too fast.” Asha started. But with every word that left her mouth, Star only seemed to make the stardust shift in between shapes even more faster.
Then, a cold wind blew against the overhead branches, producing a rustling sound. Star flinched at the noise and turned, breaking his focus on Asha.
His gaze transferred from one thing to another at the speed of light, anticipating something. Anything that might jump out at him. Is there..? Within the unknown and behind those trees, something could be watching them…
His mind having switched to autopilot, Star’s feet lifted from the ground and he started searching every space and corner. Questions flooded his head. A bad itch spread through his limbs and refused to go away. Shaken, Star tried to gulp all…’this’… down but to no avail.
He needed answers.
Did the other humans follow them? What more did they want? What other selfish want do they need granted now?
“star-“
Skies above-
What if someone comes up from behind?? His head instinctively whipped around to make sure. Nothing. Or….or did he just not see?
”Star-?”
What if someone imprisons him again just for his ability? Granting Wishes. That’s what they want… That’s all they ever wanted from him…Right? They only ever saw him as nothing more than a wish-granter. Surrounded. What if-
What if they were surrounded and they just didn’t notice? Surrounded. Trapped. And they would keep approaching. Closer.
And closer-
And closer-
Darkness envelops. Just like walls. Walls.
Walls.
Like walls pressing down from all sides of him. Promising no escape. STARS- WHAT IF-
“Star!! Please!” Star’s eyes snapped open. Two hands (that weren’t his) were raised a short distance in front of him, visibly shaking. Star realised at once that his eyes had been shut close the whole time. Oh. He thought. That explains the darkness…
Star blinked his eyes slowly, rising to meet familiar amber ones. Once his vision came to focus, he noticed the look on the girl’s face. Genuine concern. For…him?
Slowly but steadily, he regained awareness of his surroundings. He couldn’t remember exactly when he did, but he was now kneeling on the forest floor. Asha kneeled down with him to meet his eye level. She slowly reached out but paused, silently asking for consent.
Star hesitated before eventually nodding. Asha reached to gently hold on to both his wrists, which Star realised his hands had been roughly grabbing and pulling his hair mere seconds ago. She lowered them down, still maintaining a firm but gentle hold.
”Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Her honey-sweet tone whispered reassurance as her grip softened even more. “It’s just me. And you.
No one else.
No more crowds.” With every point made, her thumb comfortingly brushed against his skin. Asha’s hands slowly went from his wrist to his own, and she gently squeezed them. “I promise you.”
Asha never once broke eye contact and even signed the word “Promise” as one last reassurance.
A beat.
Star stared long and hard into her eyes, slightly surprised only to find sincerity and concern in them. It was so quiet that the only sound he heard was her own breathing. For a split moment, the worries and darkness of this world were forgotten.
All he knew was that she was here. She’s safe. He’s safe. They’re safe.
Overwhelmed at this…gesture… and everything else, Star’s eyes watered. No, she can’t see a star like this..
He squeezed her hands back to ground himself one more time before finally releasing a breath. Asha watched silently as the boy sat down on the green grass and hugged himself, ducking his head away between his knees to avoid eye contact. His shoulders trembled ever so slightly. She felt a pang of guilt stab her chest, knowing in the back of her head that he spiralled because of her ‘small favour’ back there.
“I’m sorry…” she muttered. She adjusted herself to a more comfortable sitting position beside him, taking care to make slow movements so as not to scare him even more. “I shouldn’t have asked back there in Rosas. Not all at once. I…I didn’t know they would crowd around like that.”
There was little to no reaction to the apology. In fact, it appeared like Star had only closed in on himself even further. Asha didn’t blame him. Whether he wanted to answer or not, she’d be right here either way. For as long as he needed her to be.
“Do you have…something…on your mind?”
…….
“I won’t force you to say anything. But…you’re my friend. And…I want to help you in any way I can.”
…..
“But only...if you’d let me…Whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m right here.”
Asha waited a little more longer to see any sort of sign. Nothing. She sighed lightly and shuffled a little farther away to give him space.
But then in the corner of her eye, she saw his hands move to sign. Asha remembered speaking in sign language before, but not in a very long time. Despite that, she paid close attention to at least make out what he’s trying to say.
“All they want….All I am…A star…Just wishes.”
(Btw guys, orange is sign language and the ellipses “…” are words she didn’t understand because like I said, she’s rusty with sign.)
The words took a moment to process together and click.
”You’re…afraid that’s your only worth. Is that right?”
Star’s glow turned dimmer and he tightly gripped the sleeves of his shirt. No additional confirmation was needed. Around them, cacti and odd-looking plants sprouted from the dirt. Asha jumped a little when a weed popped right next to her. Magical occurrences like these tend to happen whenever Star gets highly emotional.
He had mentioned that Wish Magic can be unpredictable and difficult to control, especially for a star as young as he is. Especially for a star who hasn’t stepped a foot on this world before, nevertheless. A star taken away far too early from home.
At this point in their adventure, Asha was no longer surprised with all the magic mishaps that happen with every excited, frustrated, or embarrassed outburst. It was almost ironic that for someone who disliked surprises, Asha had come to find Star’s unpredictability weirdly comforting and familiar.
And so, instead of anticipating or fearing whatever chaos could spiral next, Asha found herself even more compelled to help the poor star.
“I can’t..speak for the others.” She didn’t want to lie. Not when Star is already struggling to open up to people. She didn’t want to make him feel like he can’t trust her either. But at the same time, Asha didn’t want to confirm his fears and make them worse. She didn’t really want to let him completely believe that everyone really is out to capture him, when she’s aware that there are good people in Rosas.
They just needed to find the right people. But for now, she had to carefully choose her words for this.
“But for all it’s worth…You.” Asha raised her hand to touch his shoulder but quickly retracted when he flinched. Pity welled heavily in her gut. “You matter a lot to me, okay? You’re…
You’re so much more than just a star to me.”
…..
The movement was subtle and hard to notice, but Star had lifted his head a little and she noticed that the grip he had on himself loosened. Asha slowly lifted a hand again to touch him, but this time, she moved slower. When Star noticed but showed no resistance to the advance, she rested it gently on his shoulder. Like magic, she felt him relax a little more and his trembling started becoming less and less.
Star sat still, contemplating what has been said. (Sitting still for this long was so unlike him, it scared her a little). It was only his dim flickering light that filled the hushed atmosphere for several long minutes. Yet, the quiet didn’t feel as lonely as it did anymore. Both didn’t greatly mind the wait at all.
After a while, when he’s more relaxed and comfortable, he finally signed back to her.
“Anyone…hurt?”
Asha shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Just some scares maybe.”
Star looked ahead, concern evidently still etched on his face. Asha found it endearing that he still cared about others’ well-being despite what had happened.
“You…sure?”
“Well, the worse you probably did was give some people a new wardrobe.” She absentmindedly started twirling a blade of grass around her finger, hiding an amused look from the memory of the townsfolk’s surprised faces back there. She hoped that this would at least help in lightening the mood.
Star turned his head to face her more clearly and didn’t miss the small upturn of the corners of her mouth. He made a faint scoff light-heartedly. Playfully grinning now, he nudged her with his shoulder to have her look back at him.
”Did a favour…At least they’re now…more awake with colour. The old clothes…bland and boring.” Star exaggerated the last bit by sticking his tongue out.
Caught off-guard by the side-comment, a snort escapes from Asha before it turned into bright chuckles. Embarrassed, she raised a hand over her mouth. “He-hey! Don’t say that about them!”
Star only smiled wider as the usual cheeky glint finally returned to his eyes. He released his own quiet chuckle that sounded a lot like small ringing bells. Asha caught control of her own laughter to glance at her friend. Heh. She thought to herself. There’s the mischievous and fun-loving guy I know…
She’s relieved and happy to see how Star is slowly easing up and returning back to his usual self. They waited in the silence again for a little while longer. Yet, it seemed as if the tense atmosphere they initially shared in had turned a lot more easier. The heavy feeling of guilt pressing down on her chest also became lighter.
At least, some of the guilt was gone.
Asha didn’t and couldn’t forget Star’s expressed insecurities from earlier. She wants to do something about it. At least something to make up for the whole trouble. Something to make that very burden lighter.
A light bulb went on in her head.
“You know, when I was younger.” She started. “My papa would come home from work each day. He always looked so delighted to see me.” Asha raised her head upwards to the now starry night sky, a wave of nostalgia washing up within her. Star rested his arms on his knees, curious at the change in topic. “He used to pick me up and…and swing me around….calling me the sweetest things. Like we had been apart for the longest….time.”
Star noticeably frowned and tilted his head to the side, as if implying a question. The girl realised he was mirroring the same expression she had. Nervously, her hand started playing with the fabric of her dress. Admittedly, Asha wasn’t used to openly talking about Tomás again after…..that.
Not after all this time.
Asha took a deep breath, feeling the cold dirt underneath her. “That’s..that’s not the point right now.” She quickly added. Asha nodded in Star’s direction to reassure him she was fine before continuing.
“The point is…he’d call me all kinds of names. Estrella, Chiquitita, Cariño.” She smiled at the memory, blinking away the moisture that had formed in the corners of her eyes. This didn’t go unnoticed by the boy beside her, who kept listening intently.
“But out of all of them, his favourite was ‘Mi pequeño sueño.’ Since…well….he used to love sharing everything with me back then. And I mean..hehe, I mean EVERYthing.”
Asha released an uneasy laugh as she finished the sentence. “It’s funny, isn’t it? He would share every work detail to a little toddler.” She smiled and turned to face her friend. “Hehehe. I..I barely even understood most of what he said back-“
Asha paused. Star was looking right back at her with sympathy. It left her speechless for a moment. “-most of…most of what he said back…then.” She faked a cough and shook her head, as if it would help to get rid of the stinging sensation at the back of her throat.
Then, she felt something within her palm. Asha looked down to see a pretty golden flower had been created from stardust just for her. She held it up higher to gaze at its beauty and she felt tears well up again.
“Thank you.” Asha whispered and looked at Star while using her fingers to wipe away her eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
The two gazed at each other fondly and with great appreciation for their presence. That was until Asha snapped out of it and returned her gaze to the flower once more.
“Anyways, what I’m really trying to say is…” She asked. “Remember when I said “Star” is a placeholder name for now until we think of something better?”
Star nodded, holding on to every word with great interest.
Asha beamed brightly:
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Star raised an eyebrow. Shyly, he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed of the fact he isn’t too familiar with other human languages besides english. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Asha only shyly grinned and slightly ducked her head away to hide the colour on her cheeks. “Trust me. I just think it’s fitting for someone like you.”
Star-….well, now Sueño, could feel himself glow brighter. He might not know what this new name meant, but it already felt perfect. Is that weird? Like the name was meant to be his own from the very beginning.
“Okay. I trust you’d tell me eventually, right?”
Asha teasingly smirked back. “I don’t know.” She raised both her hands to sign out one word. “Maybe.”
The boy felt an even weirder feeling of fluttering butterflies inside him. At this rate, he’s only seconds away from smiling uncontrollably.
The duo turned to look up at the night sky together, letting the silence that had initially been confronting and frightening, to settle into a warm comfortable blanket between them both.
Sueño. He released a highly-content sigh while repeating the name in his thoughts. Not just any name. His name.
Sueño.
He likes it. …….
Notes:
HEY, HEY, HEY!! Didn’t expect the new change didn’t you? :DD
Yeah, I know. I did say that ‘Star’ was going to simply be my Starboy’s name. But then I got tempted by this idea and thought, “That would be too bad for me to just pass this up.”
I’m still keeping the below information here that I’ve established before in a previous post. The fact about the natural names of Wishing Stars and Asha initially calling him just “Star” when they first meet.
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In case you haven’t searched up the translation yet, Sueño means ‘dream.’ And to answer @signed-sapphire’s post on what the RFTS!Starsha duo is called, let me present you:
✨ “Hopes and Dreams” ✨
Because Asha translates to ‘hope’ too. :DD
Ages ago, I’ve found this pretty cool interpretation that helped inspire me of this idea:
‘Wishes’ are merely just a fantasised want or desire. But it’s usually temporary and fades away if nothing is done about it. ‘Dreams’ however, used to be just wishes. But placing actions behind it is what turns it into a dream. It’s the bigger picture you can see yourself in, to help motivate you through the day. ‘Hope’ is the driving fuel to reach that destination. The faith you have that you’ll get there eventually.
Without ‘hope,’ you can’t reach a dream. And without a ’dream,’ what motivates and gives hope? What exactly would you be hoping for?
Regardless whether it’s a simple and small dream or an ambitious one, you’d need both to get there.
And I just went: “AWWWW, Imagine if I used that idea.”
Well then, I stopped imagining and basically caved in to just make it a reality. :)
And this is the surprise ‘different’ post I’ve been mentioning to Saph about and I really hope you guys liked this snippet of a non-canon event in the RFTS!Au.
If I portrayed the panic sequence or anything else in a hurtful or incorrect way, can you pls let me know so I could change it?
I’m open to hearing what you all think of it and what I should be improving or doing more of next time!! <333333
(@annymation @gracebethartacc @uva124 @emillyverse @chillwildwave @tumblingdownthefoxden @signed-sapphire @kstarsarts)
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windrush-child · 2 years
Text
Love In The Dark 1
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A fateful encounter between you and a fearless racing driver turns your whole life upside down. This is the story of a blossoming love affair, in the shadows of a loveless marriage.
Disclaimer - This story will contain descriptions of domestic violence and general adult content. 18+. More work
The dress' silken material feels almost too soft, too perfectly smooth. Prussian blue with an intricate lacing around the back, just millimetres of breathing space for your ribcage, as if it was made to make its wearer suffer. It's outrageously expensive too, of course, but that is none of your concern. You move the curtains away, step out of the fitting room and meet your own reflection in the big mirrors; A person that you used to know. The old lady's - pardon - stylist's scrutinising eyes scan you up and down, waiting for a reaction, but your focus is out of the window again, literally. From your view up here on the third floor, even Vienna's wealthiest people look insignificant and small as they trudge through the cold rain on Kärntner Street. A stark contrast to the soft, beige carpet beneath your bare feet. "Truly, a wonderful dress," the lady suddenly says, and your eyes flick back to her. "Elegant, but not pompous. The perfect choice for the event," she adds. "Your husband will love it." You exhale, a little too loudly. Yes - the perfect dress to be standing next to him for the entire night, to politely smile at people you've never met, to nod, but not to speak more than a word at a time. To act like the asset that you are. To show everyone what a pretty little wife Mr Waltz has. Is there anything more dreadful in the world than a sponsorship event? "It's too tight," you say, both hands on your waist. The lady raises a brow. "Can you loosen the strings a bit?" Silently, she unties the back, until the top of the dress falls forward. You stand exposed, topless in the middle of the room, too tired to be bothered about it. While the lady adjusts the strings, she ignores the unsightly purple marks on your skin and the obvious bruises where a hand has gripped you too hard, too long. She's seen them countless times before. Don't ask, don't tell. There's only a handful of people that have ever seen this side of your marriage and know what your husband is capable of. Everyone else is oblivious or chooses to be. They believe the love story of the successful, charming entrepreneur and his young, beautiful wife. And for a point in time it was true. He was once the love of your life, the man you left it all behind and moved to another country for, the one who made your heart flutter and your face blush with just a look - But that was a long time ago. Impulsivity and possessiveness mistaken for passion and love. When you've peeled yourself out of your dress back in the changing room, you give yourself a once over. Sometimes, you like to imagine the spots where he would kiss you, would caress your hair and gently nibble at your skin if only he were a different man; The man he used to be three years ago at the day of your wedding. He, the sharp-witted, eccentric yet kind business man from Austria, over twenty-five years your senior, so madly in love with you that he would've bought you the moon had you asked for it. You can not pinpoint where it all went wrong since then. It escalated slowly, silently, like cancerous growth until his occasional outbursts became a new norm, where you find yourself walking through a minefield more often than not, desperately trying not to set him off. Did you marry too young, perhaps? Should you have been better prepared for this, for a man like him, who leads an immensely stressful and fast-paced life? You run a finger over your hipbone, a particularly dark bruise there. It's sensitive to the touch. For once, you don't feel numb and detached from yourself, as hot tears prickle at your eyes. Will it ever be the way it was?
You pay for the dress, don't care that the lady at the till sees your reddened eyes, she won't say a word about it anyway. When you get into the car that has been patiently waiting for you outside, you apologise to the driver for how long you took, as always, in broken German. He nods, sympathetic. While you absentmindedly watch the raindrops race each other down the window, your driver speaks up. "Mrs Waltz, just one thing," he begins, searching for your eyes in the mirror. "I was told to inform you that your husband won't be able to make the flight to Italy on Saturday." Of course he won't. "He'll arrive Sunday evening, just in time for the event." "Oh." you say, indifferent, already picturing yourself spending the day alone in your hotel room. At least you won't have to deal with his unpredictable moods before the sponsor dinner. It's a very important night for everyone involved, you gather. Your husband is responsible for negotiating the extension of the sponsorship between Emirates Airlines and the Formula One Group. To him, this is his hunting ground; a crucial, profitable deal and a demonstration of his influence. To you... it's just aeroplanes and race cars. "Mr Waltz also acquired a paddock pass for you, in case you'd like to see the circuit on Saturday." Now that raises your brow. He normally can't stand it when you go places on your own and simply won't allow you to, most of the time. Yet, he wants you to watch the Grand Prix? "What am I supposed to do at a motor race?" you scoff, a little puzzled. "I won't even know what I'm looking at..." "Well, technically, it's not the race. It's the Qualifying," your driver corrects. "Mr Waltz thinks you might enjoy yourself." It's not that you dislike the sport or find cars to be terribly boring. But you've never been to a Grand Prix in your life, despite your husband's involvement in Formula 1. You're gonna feel (and look) massively out of place there, that's for sure. "Mr Waltz told me that you used have an interest in racing when you were a young girl," he adds. "You don't want to miss the chance to see those cars with your own eyes, then!" he says, and seems to be more enthusiastic about your husband's idea than you are. He is right, however - you did like to watch the races when you were younger. But the last time you saw one on TV must've been about fifteen years ago, and you were still a child then. "I... well, yes" you ponder, still not fully sold. "I guess I could go there for the afternoon..." And escape my marriage for a couple of hours, you quietly conclude. There’s a content smile on the driver’s face. Perhaps he’s happy that you get to go out and have fun for once. “Did you have a favourite driver back then?” he chirps. You ponder his question for a while before you answer.
“…I did.” you remember, and let your mind wander out of the car’s rain-painted window.
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