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#the man has a lot of scars on his body hence him VERY against to showing off his body
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He's more ripped than this, but this is what y'all are getting for Sinday from Hyousuke
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battlekilt · 1 year
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*sobssssss lovingly at the brotherly friendship they write between Cody and Obi-Wan*
Obi-Wan loves this dorky young man, so much. He has loved seeing him open up from a shy, obedient yes-man, to an honest person that showed his Fett-itude in private, and still zealously guards the respect others have invested in Obi-Wan.
Sadly, I feel like Cody is what Obi-Wan sometimes wishes Anakin had been. Or... what he thinks he wishes Anakin would be. Truthfully, it is that spiteful defiance hidden under his Commander's armor that he adores so much—the things Cody and Anakin have in common.
I have to watch myself to keep from going off on a meta-fueled tangent comparing Cody and Anakin in Obi-Wan's eyes. But, there is a lot.
Both come from very tightly controlled places to curate obedience out of the subjects. Cody's was less about fear, and just militant mental conditioning into nearly dogmatic subservience.
Oddly enough, Anakin may have had a detonator chip in his body, it was revealed that Cody's chip was the most deadly, for its target wasn't the body of its subject, but far... far more. The fact that the Clone's chip was in his mind is no short-order hindsight; it is also a metaphor for what set Cody and Anakin apart.
Anakin had a much easier time letting his defiance out, but he is the product of chattel slavery that isn't so concerned with convincing the enslaved parties to be active participants in their own enslavement.
The military requires a militant, cultist mental conditioning that does strip pre-established self-agency, and remakes the subject to fit the image it requires. Hence, the prim Clone Commander with the neat little military haircut; the only outward sign of his individuality in the scar he earned—somehow.
I was in a server for a bit, where my characterization of Cody needing Obi-Wan's mentorship and permission to be a mischief-maker in his own right was called into questioning—labeled infantilization. It disturbed me, and upset me. Not because it was my headcanon, but because it showed a privileged position experienced by the part, who appeared to me to lack the experience of the result of military-cultish mental conditioning.
The military tells their subjects what to do. When to eat, when to sleep, when to shower, when to dress, what to dress in, what weapons to use, where to go—
The list is endless.
Our own soldiers often struggle to assimilate back into civilians when they are out of the military.
Someone like Cody?
Hell yeah. He'd probably need to be heckled and needled to do silly things we'd take for granted. That is the result of such thorough indoctrination as it takes to produce a professional military to the caliber of the GAR.
There is a lot of victim blaming in that we see signs of indoctrination struggle against health enabling by others. That indoctrination is so evident in the Clones, and is one of the primary storylines that we begin to truly see unfold out of their themes in TCW. To remove that from someone, like Cody, and call the exploration of such a theme/phenomenon infantilization is... the genuinely problematic behavior.
Someone like Cody would absolutely need someone to mentor him in ways he lacks because he, like all Clones, would not be a well-rounded person. The level of obedience required of these men wouldn't permit genuine experience nor the expression of self-agency that would make them well-rounded individuals. They aren't supposed to be individuals. From the onset, it made clear that it was the Jedi who encouraged the individuality the Clones came to let out of their shells.
Just to start the process of deprogramming that level of indoctrination, it would take mentorship, guidance, encouragement, and ultimately? All the things that a good big brother with life experience would have.
Me? I love Obi-Wan being that older brother to Cody. This soft-faced, doleful eyed Jedi in robes, the one to tell his armored, hard-faced, ornery Clone Commander with a sun on his plate to... do something small, for himself. To have a bit of fun that has consequences—nothing big.
Just... Cody hates that one kaf mug? He's told Kenobi a thousand times that open containers are not supposed to be in the tactical room?
Knock it off the table, Cody. Do it, Cody. Now Kenobi is bringing it where he shouldn't, just to irritate Cody. He has to encourage this seemingly full-grown man, who has received more military education than most professional officers that have been in service for a lifetime, just to...
Knock it off the table, Cody. Prove to why it shouldn't be in this room.
Obi-Wan spent so much time trying to get Anakin to conform to the Order's ways, mostly because it was all he knew to do; it was what he had to do with himself.
But this Clone? This man of a million identical faces? To encourage him to BE defiant is, in my esteem, a testament of Obi-Wan's true measure of a man.
This is me cutting this short, believe it or not.
I love Obi-Wan being Cody's older brother, his mentor, his teacher... so... SO MUCH.
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meteor752 · 1 year
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Oh lawd they been through some shit
So, I’ve done their designs when their parents were still alive on DL. I’ve done their designs of when they joined Empires. I’ve done their designs for when they visited Hermitcraft. I gave them lil Christmas outfits. I showed what they would look like in the future. I even made them as gosh darn villains
But there’s one period of their lives, that I haven’t shown you. I’ve talked about it plenty, even wrote a fic about it, but you’ve never been shown it visually
Double life when their parents had died
Twenty years, of just starving to death repeatedly for the babs
Let’s show it
Oh and btw tw for like, some minor body horror, gauntness and starvation, blood, injuries, and all that jazz. Will be properly tagged
(Also, I cannot express how fun these designs were to make. I spent hours on every single one and it was just such a delight to make them)
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Liana
I think I’ve stated this before, but Liana took some heavy damage to her left eye during this time, resulting in her needing a monocle to see properly, thus the eyepatch. Dirty and ripped clothes (those will be very common across every design), and fresh scars that can still be seen in her later designs, just more faded. The missing shoe is also intentional, as that is the foot she later looses to frostbite. It had very little protection against the elements. Her wings being their normal bright colors is also a fun little thing, as even during her most horrid distress, Liana found the time to preen. Idk what’s going on with the pose, but I’m assuming broken ribs. It just looked fun
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Wes
The famished look actually the most unnatural for him, because he’s usually so bulky and large. Moss coat fresh and clean, most important thing for him. Newly broken horn, probably a month or so into the development. I actually have very little to say about Wes’ design here compared to everyone else’s, cause like it’s the one I’m probably the most dissatisfied with. It still looks fine and such, but it’s just a bit basic I guess. Idk. I still like the hair, especially the dyed part
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Gertrude
Could have gone with the same kinda vibe for her as everyone else, but I realized that I actually haven’t shows Weretrude. This right here isn’t full on Weretrude, more like halfway through transformation, cause I still wanted her to like, look like her ya know. But yeah girl is fully out of it. This is probably not too long after the end of dl, before the game mechanics stopped. When the passing of time kinda stopped, as did the monthly full moons because it never became night. So yeah, the one advantage to their miserable situation
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Johnny
The first design, and the reason I did all of these. Johnny was always the one closest to his parents, so their death tore him up the most, to the point where he never left their grave. Moss and vines started to grow on him eventually, and animals and bugs found home in his hair and wounds. So yeah, bad time for lil country bumpkin boy.
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Jassy
Ngl, Jassy looks cool as fuck. The sunken in eyes paired with the startling green of her irises, her dirty white hair and mask covering most of her face, her clothes, the fucking contrast in her skin between the light and the dark sunken in parts. I didn’t even intend for that but I just loved it so much that I kept it. Also since this is before she started to form her own identity, she still has the classic Kakashi mask.
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Jekiv
Mans looks…honestly pretty normal. Like when everyone is just skin and bones, the actual zombie doesn’t look that zombie like. His skin and hair is a little dirtier, his pastel clothes are a lot dirtier, but yeah he faired pretty alright during this time. Since the first fic I ever wrote for the kids was Jekiv’s logbook, I felt it would only be fitting that he was writing in it for his pose. The quill is also made from one of Liana’s feathers, hence the quality condition. As mentioned in the logbook as well, Jekiv lost his hooded cloak a few years in to a spider, so his hair is on full display here. He hates it.
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Novo
Absolutely obsessed with him actually. All of the kids have their own unique weapons (Liana her bow, Wes his war hammers, Gertrude her mace, Johnny his whip, Jassy her double daggers, Jekiv his scythe) except Novo, so I thought it would be only fitting for him to have something as well. And what’s better for him than a barbed bat? He probably still has it in the future, but it’s mostly being kept in his inventory. Difficult being a friendly bard if you keep a murder weapon on you at all times. Also, his cloak? It’s one of Pearl’s old dogs. Not Tilly of course (She was cremated), but one of her pups. Morbid? Yes absolutely. Fitting for my favorite weirdo? Yes absolutely.
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lettherebemonsters · 1 year
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『 𝙰 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴 』 .
repost with the information of your muse , including headcanons , etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts , add some other of your own
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!NAME. Kenneth Chase/ Jeffrey Hawk CLOWN
AGE. As of 2023, Kenneth is a whopping 91 years old. But because he was snatched sometime between the 70s and 90s, physically, Kenneth is in his 50s-60s. He may even be younger and just be aged through horrific stress.
SPECIES. human. CLOWN
GENDER. Guy CLOWN
ORIENTATION. The Clown doesn't label himself as gay or straight. He doesn't care who his partner is, though he's very, very, VERY much against anyone that hurts kids or tries to get weird with animals. And while he's known for the way he dominates survivors, the older he's gotten, the more he's grown to dislike it. He's found willing partners are much more fun (hence why he's largely settled down in a few plot scenarios and has little clowns of his own.)
INTERESTS. Painting, coming up with new concoctions and pretending he's a tubby Dr. Frankenstein. He also loves just anything carnival and takes his traveling circus VERY seriously. He also loves spoiling his demon horsey. Kenneth also loves adding to his finger collecting and he's constantly taking care of his blades, sharpening them to a razor-edge.
PROFESSION. He's technically not an "official" clown since he never went through formal training, but he's more of a "bootleg" clown. He doesn't have a job but used to do physical grunt work like moving stuff or manning the ropes for trapeze stunts. He'd have loved to have been a ringmaster and models himself a lot around ringmasters.
BODY TYPE. No joke, Kenneth is BIG. He's extremely tall, between 6 foot 3 to 6 foot 5, and is definitely the heaviest of the human killers at 300-400 lbs easily (possibly more.) But he isn't weak and instead is superhumanly fast and strong. Basically he's the grizzly bear of the killers (more so than Trapper.) He may look dumpy and flabby but he'll steamroll you in a second. He's also very resistant to damage, able to jump very high and take fall damage thanks to his legs being very dense with muscle. Do NOT underestimate this guy under ANY circumstances. Him being older makes him MORE dangerous since he knows exactly where to hit for maximum damage.
EYES. Kenneth was born with crystal blue eyes that he inherited from his mother, but now, thanks to how long he's been in The Realm, his eyes have become soulless and shark-like and pitch black with a reflective lens that makes his eyes glow in low light. When he looks at you, with his black paint around his eyes, it's like giant holes were drilled into his skull and just staring back. (Think Skullcrawler.)
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HAIR. Originally he had straight bright orange hair but as he got older, Kenneth lost most of his hair and what little he has left became silver. His hair makes him look like a mad scientist wearing a clown costume.
SKIN. Kenneth is very pale and basically has a Scottish complexion. His skin is darker due to both constant exposure to the sun, as well as the Entity's influence on him. Kenneth also has horrifying scars across his upper body that he hides that came from years of his father violently beating him as a child.
FACE. An extremely hard life, along with self-destructive habits, have destroyed much of Kenneth's features. He wasn't ugly when he was younger and had features that made him look deceptively cute and friendly. Now his face is sagged like everything just wants to slide off. He constantly looks dazed and confused due to how utterly destroyed his psyche is and oftentimes can't remember what he's doing or where he is.
HEIGHT. 6 foot 3 to 6 foot 5. He might be even bigger given the Entity pushing his ruined body to the absolute limit.
COMPANIONS. None outside of his horse Maurice. The Clown is treated as an unwanted outcast among the other killers and largely lives isolated and almost completely alone. The only times other killers interact with him is either when he goes to the Deathslinger's bar or when the younger killers and survivors attack him and steal his stuff and destroy his carnival.
ANTAGONISTS. Technically everyone BUT the Entity is his enemy. The slashers don't want him and actively ignore or try to force Kenneth out. The Entity gave him a home, power, speed, strength and immortality. He's the rare killer where his only true ally....is the deity that tortures everyone around her.
COLORS. The Clown is a damn peacock. He loves bright, boisterous colors. Reds and yellows and oranges....if the color is neon and literally burns the eyes, he loves it more. Basically the Clown sees his world as a weird Alice in Wonderland kind of thing. His sense of reality is almost completely shot so he thinks he's in a bright, colorful fantasy.
FRUITS. Apples, oranges, bananas
DRINKS. He likes soda but hadn't had it since he's been stuck in the fog. At most he'll drink water now, sometimes coffee or espresso or, when in a Trial, he'll lick up the blood of his victims like it's ambrosia (what can I say? The guy is FUCKED.)
ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES ? It's easier to list alcohols he hasn't tried. A favorite of his is absinthe.
SMOKES ? Usually after a Trial or after intimacy. He's not as big into smoking as he is drinking and prefers smoking marijuana over just straight cigarettes.
DRUGS ? Near constant use. It's extremely rare that he isn't on drugs of some kind. He's tried every drug available to him in order to try to kill off all memories he has of his father and to numb that constant pain he's in. But so far, it just keeps getting worse.
DRIVERS LICENSE ? Nope! He'd probably crash a damn clown car. Kenneth barely has a license to drive his caravan.
tagged by: I'm a filthy thief and I stole this from @mxlevolence (muahahaha!)
tagging: Anyone that rp's, go steal this from me!
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sovlbound · 5 months
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HOTD MUSES HEADCANONS:
due to the template of the new carrd and not wanting to overload each bio, here is a masterlist:
DORREN MORMONT:
he is quite skilled in embroidery thanks to spending many years at his mother's side as a child, though it has been a long time since he had last sewn dorren is one to commit such acts to memory and could most likely pick it up as quick as a blade.
right arm scars: defensively he is known to use his right side and it never changes, this causes many small cuts and bruises and slices to occur during training with the weapons master; various lengths; fine line and one keloid at his shoulder curve.
right and left wrist scars: he has attempted to take his own life a few times since his mother passed, this was the one that was almost successful, had it not been for dacey's intervention; 3cm keloid scars that can restrict movement in the wrists.
he has never really accepted warrick as his brother due to his bastard lineage, and has not truly understood gawen's reasoning for bringing him into the home seeing as their are countless mormont bastards of the realm and no other has entered the castle grounds.
dorren had two bastard daughters to a woman from winter town, however, she took them to kings landing soon after the second was born and he has had no contact since. although many do not know and some that do take it as a good thing he doesn't have to deal with them, his sister dacey has sat up late at night with him as he cries over the loss of fatherhood to his first children.
there were talks of a betrothal between himself and callah redwyne ( @bruiisedpetals ) though the chatter of union was reported to have ended with no ill feelings after lady callah revealed her love for a childhood sweetheart.
it takes dorren a very short amount of time to fall in lust, but to fall in love takes time, takes a lot of breaking of his walls and mistrust, his own insecurities and anger before he can truly say that he's in love with somebody.
dacey holds a special place in his heart and although history remembers him as the man whom chose war over his siblings, he had tried to flee dragonstone upon hearing of dacey's capture at the keep - his father having to lock him within his chambers for over one moon before he conceded.
death: though the reason for wylla's disability, there is a crypt statue sculpted of dorren's likeness on bear island ( no body resides here due to the loss of it at rook's rest ). it is written in wylla's journals that she forgave him, for everything, and often eats dinner beside his tomb.
NSFW: he tends to be more dominant in the bedroom,ㅤtaking the lead and enjoying everything which comes with itㅤ-ㅤit's rare to see this man submissive when it comes to sexy time.
NSFW: let's expose this man. doggy style and cowgirl are his favoured positions for sex, but for oral you bet this man wants to have you up against a wall or a piece of furniture, leg over his shoulder as he dives in. ravenous.
NSFW: he's not a loud man when it comes to sex, bar the odd grunt or breathy praise, dorren tries to contain himself.
DACEY MORMONT:
from a young age dacey has found herself grounded and at peace within the surrounding forests and woods of her home, when her family would go and hunt she would go and dance among the trees, a silent tune only she could hear dancing within the leaves. the way her mind would rush and fill with prophetic sounding riddles was eased when in the vicinity of mother earth, the grounding aspect of the world around her brought her back to being dacey.
dacey is very much an isolated woman and prefers her own company to that of large crowds and banquets, hence why she has been known to leave the safety of her home for the surrounding woods to be alone or with the bears that inhabit the forests. she is known to be soft spoken and quiet, somewhat strange and distant from people, even in her own family, though she is kind. she is numb to the actions of others until she holds a connection with them, for example she felt no grief or anger at the actions of the targaryen/hightower/velaryon disputes and effects on the realm until she herself was held captive in the red keep by them where immense emotions took over.
entire back scars: there are various clawed scars on her back from her visits to the surrounding woods of bear island to interact with said bears, often times she doesn't get near, but when in a daze she has been known to venture close causing the marred scars; imagine jaime fraser's back in outlander; a mixture of fine line, keloid and hypertrophic.
right palm: often times dacey qould be found as a child with her hand hovering too close to fire, leaving her with a burned scar on her palm; size of entire palm; contracted and restricts some movement to the hand.
dacey has been pregnant before and it may come as a surprise that she is not a maiden as she is the eldest daughter to a noble house and unmarried. when she was seventeen her naivety to admiration against romance was taken advantage of by a visiting northern knight whom became a frequent visitor. dacey had no understanding of sex and how babies came to be due to her lack of knowledge from her maids and distant relationship with her step mother. when she began to show her bump and dresses became to tight, gawen was furious and it took very little convincing for dacey to reveal the knights name. her baby's father was given the warmest of welcomes by gawen the next time he visited bear island by being taken to the forest surrounding the longhouse and being fed piece by piece to the bears. dacey grew despondent though through the voices in her mind she understood he was going to die, what she never heard was the whispers deep in her soul of the fate of her babe. five moons gone and her babe came too early, barely a babe to be named yet dacey still gave them the name of arys in her grief. a decade has past and she still mourns the loss of arys and not their father, believing their early death to be a sign of her outcome as a mother. deadly. she is terrified to bring a baby into the world after this, though she wants children it is a big thing for her. not many outside of the family know of the scandal and it has been kept under wraps by gawen's threats of the bears throughout the long house.
due to the pregnancy and loss of her illegitimate child, arys, dacey became damaged goods in her father's eyes and he had to get her married off and soon. unfortunately, better said than done, though he managed to secure a somewhat beneficial betrothal to a lannister of low standing. there was some sense of relief in dacey when this betrothal was broken by the lannisters as the war became more and more evident.
the small folk of bear island often refer to dacey as the bear maiden, a kind soul with the heart of gold - often aiding them in duties below her station as a lady and gifting food and wares to them to ensure health.
specifically in kings landing, when she is released from her captivity - so to speak - in her apartments in the red keep, it takes days before she is coerced into stepping out of them, away from her sanctuary bubble. however, once she has stepped out it was hard to keep her within, to bring her back to snooze and rest when the moon rose and the sun fled. first it was to the gardens, then to the servants quarters and then out of the keep altogether - though accompanied by a white cloak with each travel. dacey found solace in the small folk and become the epitome of a maiden fair to those of flea bottom, a ray of sunshine breaking through the impending war threatening to starve them out of their homes and businesses. it became common for dacey to return to the keep, a red faced white cloak in tow, with a dreamy look on her features, mud and whatever else staining the bottom of her dresses, feet bare as slippers have long been given to a woman on the street of silk with raw soles, wrists and hands free of jewels and gold that she snuck into the pockets of passersby, hair mussed and braided with wilted flowers - and yet she was glowing.
due to the look of alicent and the look of their mother, lyra, when dacey is in a daze within the keep she often refers to the woman as 'mother'.
some may say that physical touch is dacey's love language due to the constance she holds another person by her side, however, the bear maiden is very much a gift giver. if you slowly begin recieving more and more little trinkets and such, well . . . keep an eye out for our little lady.
the death of heleana brings a lot of grief to the bear maiden of the red keep, having become very fond of the girl during her (forced) stay within the royal seat. it is said after the death of heleana and the step back from ruling bear island, dacey went isolated into a quiet life within the north where she grows plump with babes of bastardry. grief haunts her still, omens call to her of death, but not of others, not of those before her, but those of ghosts already as well as her own.
she has a particular fixation on hands,ㅤso anything from playing with her hair to lightly tracing words and shapes on bare skinㅤ-ㅤher most favourite would be tracing the lines on palms.
death: canonically her death is unknown to the world as she disappears from the history tomes after the dance, however, in wylla's journals it is stated that dacey passed due to an unknown illness that took her in her sleep. her body resides on bear island alongside the bears she had help nurse and raise.
NSFW: surpsingly,ㅤdacey can be quite dominant in the bedroomㅤ-ㅤsomething that can be quite a shock to her partners.ㅤits the control and leading that brings a thrill,ㅤparticularly due to the lack of control in her mind and life outside of sexual encounters.ㅤthough with the one,ㅤsomeone she trusts to treat her right and ensure she would be taken care of,ㅤshe switches.
WYLLA MORMONT:
wylla takes immense pride in warrick, her younger half brother - bastard or not. when her father brought him into the household when he was four, she found a kindred spirit in him and it is evident in the pride she feels for him in her approach to protecting him from comments and slander. she flaunts him as her shield on her tour of the seven kingdoms and chooses him to be at her side on saving their sister during the dance.
mid right arm amputation: post battle of rook's rest where dorren severs her limb to stop her from reaching for her sword, prior to his own death; the area of amputation has contracted due to the use of cautersing the wound with a heated pike.
bridge of nose: given as a child during a training session with the master of weapons of bear island when wylla went to attack dorren with a loose mace, only having the ser to stop her with an arm to her face; 1 cm in length; fine line.
left mid inner thigh: during the dance and her training within the red keep, she grew weary and tired and lost her balance on a number of occasions, one time unfortunately left her stumbling into the weapons stand and causing her own dagger to slip and slice her; 4cm in length; keloid.
after losing her hand and coming from her coma, wylla is despondent and needs a lot of support to continue on - it takes all of warricks strength to face wylla and continue his support of her. due to losing her dominant hand in the battle by Dorren, wylla becomes dependent on warrick as her literal right hand man, even when she takes up arms as lady of bear island, he is there supporting her with ravens and fight.
WARRICK SNOW:
warrick was never raised to be heir to bear island or to even rise to status of knight or maester, instead he was given free reign to live among his father and siblings without fear of ambition eating him alive. the life he seeks is simple, lowly and away from the politics he has been on the side for - however, due to his loyalty to wylla and his family, he does find himself thrust head first into the war far away from the easy life he wished for.
warrick is a fairly open book and will come to trust your muse pretty blindly to begin with, often taking into consideration dacey's teachings of kindness before ruthlessness. due to this, if his trust is somehow broken with your muse, he is the kind of person to forgive over and over, no matter how many times he was hurt.
warrick was only four when his mother passed away from an intensified flu like illness, her lungs collapsing and her appetite lessening, causing his last memories of her to be that of a skeletal husk. despite this, he has lingering feelings of memories from her, of her kind hands - though rough from kitchen work at bear island - smoothing down unruly hair, the warmth of her hold against her chest and the sweet songs of the wildlings she would lull him to sleep with. though nobody is able to offer him any stories or memorabilia of his lowly mother, warrick still views her as his beaming ray of light. a guardian watching over him.
under his left eye: post his one and only battle given to him by one of the blacks' foot soldiers before protecting wylla; 2.5cm in length; hypertrophic.
on his right palm: post dance of the dragons given to him in an oath of continued protection and life to his lady of bear island, wylla; 3cm in length; fine line.
MELIANA SNOW:
none as of yet.
LYONELLA LANNISTER:
read to this woman by candlelight or be her muse for art,ㅤthose intimate moments where it is just the two people and a close activity.ㅤbonus points if the other person praises her.
home was never casterly rock nor kings landing. home was that cramped room above the blacksmiths that smelt of soot and burning metal, home was the lower streets of lannisport weaving to and throw between her mother's legs.
there is a common misconception with lyonella's life that is shared by smallfolk and nobles alike. due to the nature of her birth, many believed that she was saved from the gutter by the merciful lannisters and brought into their home as one of their own, to be welcomed with open arms and love. smallfolk were envious of the life she was being thrust into at such a young age, to have no worries of poverty and food for the rest of her days, and yet nobody knew the truth. she was a toy in the game the lannisters were playing, twisting her into the perfect pawn to be fed to either the royals or the ironmen, either way they would use her to save them sacrificing a trueborn lannister. at noble gatherings she was adorned in the colours of house lannister, her body dripping with golden jewellery and lion symbols to mark her as one of the casterly rock lions; behind the domineering presence of her house's seat she was beaten, ridiculed, close to being thrown into the sea at times by offended guardsmen, once burned for reciting the order of past kings wrongly and most of all, she was devoid of love and affection.
lyonella wishes to not be remembered at all, she wishes to be erased from the books and allow her life to be her's and her's alone. the lost lannister forgotten from the histories and allowing her a peaceful life in the after with her mother. unfortunately, she is not so virtuous in this fact as she will be remembered in the books, but not as a villain, not as a lost woman or a rebel. an artist, a free spirit and a woman of close confidance to capture the princess' likeness in a portrait to be archived and returned to the stones of dragonstone some decades after lyonella's death.
NSFW: praise praise praise,ㅤshe will be putty in your hands to mould however you like.ㅤoral fixation,ㅤself explanatory really,ㅤhowever,ㅤhas a particular fondness for fingers in her mouthㅤ-ㅤespecially if they were just used for a certain act.ㅤvoyuerism,ㅤespecially for her to be the voyeur of your muse pleasuring themselves or someone else.
NSFW: lyonella has a certain interest in having her hands restricted in some way,ㅤwhether held away by another or tied awayㅤ-ㅤthough with silk or lace or something that wouldn't leave a mark.
NSFW: lyonella is known to have two wardrobes,ㅤa wardrobe for the day of elegant gowns and dresses for the night of requested risque outfitsㅤ-ㅤsome more revealing than others.
NYMA TYRELL:
lyon, the wolfhound, was gifted to nyma by her stepmother when she was 10, he has been her fateful friend since this day.
although it is rare for nyma to cover her blind and cataract eye, she will do so for celebrations and balls for the comfort of others.
she has no ambitions to rule highgarden, although she does wish for house tyrell to thrive and so she continues to advise with the mind and thoughts of her father past.
MYRIELLE HAWTHORNE:
none as of yet.
MATHIAS HAWTHORNE:
none as of yet.
KELLA BORRELL:
none as of yet.
MEERA KARSTARK:
none as of yet.
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yeoreos · 3 years
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avid || jjk (m)
pairing: demon!jungkook x human!reader
genre: 18+, smut
summary: jungkook finds you at a bar and sets you as his night's target
warnings: oh lord smut. lots and lots of smut.
wc: 4k
note: i was kind of lazy to finish it, but hey, its 4k of foreplay; nothing beats that! (also sorry for not posting in a while i was busy with beginning of year exams *cries*)
jungkook first noticed you in a bar. on weekends, it was transformed into a seedy nightclub. he liked to go there while he was looking for something to eat; something to conquer for the night. he discovered a plethora of attractive females and, each with broken hearts and hungry gazes - all yearning for a nighttime lover.
he never believed his eyes when they landed on you. the state you were in was pitiful. he guessed that you had just broken up with this boyfriend of yours, hence the mascara and ruined makeup on your face. or perhaps it was a platonic breakup. despite your state, his mahogany orbs never left your figure. what a cute thing you were.
a pretty face that was exactly his type, the perfect curves of your tits, hips, and ass has his knees weak. if you were to ask, he would give.
of course, his initial plan had been thrown out the window the instant he saw you. you leaned against the bar, accepting an order, with a grin on your lips. It sparked something in him, all the confidence (whether it be from the alcohol in your veins or not, it didn't matter to him) and allure.
he knew your name. how could he miss the way your own name rolled off of your tongue so easily? how could he miss the way your lips formed a smirk after seeing jungkook? how could he miss your scent when you pulled him in to kiss you?
this was jungkook's specialty, depravity. wherever he went, he brought a tale of wickedness and depravity with him, the quality hooking onto him like a magnet.
he was a fallen angel, to be sure. a demon, a fallen angel. to be more specific, an incubus. he fed off of sex and vice, appetites and irrational cravings. he drank often in front of ladies like you, at bars or in beds, whose gazes wracked over him, and he fed off of human energy.
over time, after a handful of centuries, he had gotten bored of playing the same old games in bed. jungkook knew what he wanted, however, he was never able to satisfy that itch in the back of his throat, yearning for something to quench his sinful thirst.
he was tired, watching from atop the hill nearby, where he watched the sun rest for the night. just like you had. the darkness of the night overtook the city of seoul and jungkook knew it was his hour to strike; to feed his thirst.
so, the demon went after you, hovering over your small figure over the pathetic excuse of a bed. the soft rising and falling of your chest and the soft snores that escaped from your mouth once in a while, was all the proof jungkook needed that you were fast asleep.
jungkook extended his hand towards you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek, a tremor coursing through his body as a result of the contact. the energy you were emitting caused every molecule in his body to twitch in response. captivating.
oh how badly he wanted a taste.
when you stirred a little, a small groan leaving your lips, jungkook stilled. had you woken up? however, it was just a small movement you were causing in your sleep which allowed you to further curl up against the pillow.
he grinned.
it was time.
"let's go in that dream of yours, shall we?"
-
when he opened his eyes again, jungkook didn't expect himself to be in the same bar, be in the same exact position as before. however, this time, you were looking directly at him with your hungry eyes, mimicking his.
ever since heaven had decided to clip his wings, jungkook gave up on the little purity he had left, letting himself follow his heart.
so that's why he felt no shame in eyeing your figure up and down multiple times.
it wasn't necessarily anything that stood out about you, but it was just the aura you were giving off, that sweet feminine scent that lingered near the air around you, that small curve of your lips. but it might have mostly been the way you called for him, despite not knowing his name.
"hello, handsome."
jungkook didn't really have a preference when coming to his targets. he didn't prefer virgins; he always thought that they were inexperienced and didn't know how to give a good head. he didn't prefer the experienced either; he always thought that they knew too much and made the sex too sloppy. it was somewhere in between. and by the looks of it, you seemed like the perfect target. it had his insides churning, a long yearning for a good fuck. he thought he was going crazy.
throughout his centuries of living, he saw empires and clans of royalty fall and rebuild itself, being reborn. he didn't go out of his way to feel good, but he took whatever the universe offered to him. in this case, it was you.
when the surroundings suddenly changed to a much quieter one, where no one was bumping into each other, jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. it did not, however, take him long to notice that you were in the premises of your bedroom, the small plants on your windowsill being a huge clue.
“who are you?” you inquired, your voice scarcely audible. smirking, the man took a step forward. in contrast to his sparkling eyes, the moonlight from the window follows his body flawlessly, giving him a blue tone on his skin. you became aware of his exposed skin due to his lack of clothing. as you took in his powerful body, a flicker of longing tingled between your legs.
the man stayed deafeningly silent. instead, the man crept onto the bed, trailed by what appeared to be a shadow. you kept a tight eye on his every move because you couldn't move. you felt yourself spreading your legs wide as he crept over top of you. you had a tremendous want to feel him and be completely consumed by him.
despite being a demon, a sex demon (literally), jungkook still understood the morals of consent, making sure it was his top priority. after all, he wouldn't want it if he was in your position.
"are you okay with what's going to happen?" his words were like a captivating chime in your ears, quickly relaxing you and making you desire more. you found yourself placing our hands on his shoulders in order to feel his silky skin. how was it possible for a man to be both burning hot and icy cold at the same time? the dampness between your legs was unbearable, and you were drawn to him with all your might. your nipples perked beneath your shirt as you didn’t wear a bra to bed, you remembered. this made sense. something you remembered vividly. just a shirt and panties was all you wore to bed. clearly you must be dreaming, so you may as well indulge without regret.
"y-yes." you dropped your hands to grasp your shirt and pull it over your head to display your nakedness while looking into the man's eyes. with a hunger for your every move, he kept an eye on you. as he glanced over you, his throat vibrated with a palpable growl. you noticed he was completely hard as your gaze slid down your body with his. in a humble tone, you inquire, "is this real? this isn't a dream, is it?"
the man's grin makes your entire body twitch. you feel him quickly remove your underpants and fling it somewhere off the bed. you become acutely aware of the excitement between your legs as well as the heat emanating from his body. he lowers himself still more until he's right up against your door.
“would you prefer to be dreaming... or would you prefer to be here with me?” the man inquires, his tone innocent but with a sinister undertone.
when you reached for your thighs to give yourself some relief, there was nothing there. as your eyes scanned your surroundings, all you could feel was the chill of your own flesh. red. your vision was completely red. it was almost as if someone had brought in a red mood lamp and shone it throughout the room. it was entirely painted in a bright crimson color. your epidermis. the walls on all four directions. it was all red.
everything seemed hazy and perplexing, and you wondered where you were. you were in a new environment. some may even argue it was a living hell.
you sat up and wrapped yourself in the nearest blanket you could locate before standing up. warm wooden floorboards greeted your bare feet. “what?” kneeling down, you firmly pressed your hand on the wood once again to be sure you weren't hallucinating, but then again, what's to say you weren't hallucinating the whole thing?
'im not a lunatic... you thought to yourself as the warm sensation of the wood stretched across your palm. you straightened up and looked about your flat, trying to figure out what you could do about the red. you stood up straight and began to look around your apartment to see if there was anything you could do about the red. nibbling on your lower lip gently, you stood up straight and began to look around your apartment to see if there was anything you could do about the red.
the door to your bedroom squeaks open just as you were ready to turn on the light switch. the sound reverberated throughout the room with such eerie intensity that you were nearly persuaded your tv had turned back on and was showing yet another horror movie. then something happened. from your room, a man who could only be described as the devil strolled in as if he owned the place. you would be fascinated by this man's beauty if he hadn't just walked in like that. a scar runs from the left side of his jaw all the way down to his neck, giving him a strong jawline. his delicate yet sharp-looking features are caressed by soft wild hair, and his adorable small head is adorned with two pointy horns. it was the eyes, though, that drew your attention.
not the fact that he emerged from your room shirtless. nor the fact that he had claws and a commanding tail swishing back and forth. no, it was those soulless black eyes that were piercing right through you. your very being. you were in some type of trans as the mystery man - no, not man - thanks to those black coals. devil. That sounded more like it.
you couldn't take your gaze away, but as your feet shuffled you further away from this entity, they did all the thinking for you. it only appeared to encourage the beast to keep going before you pressed up against him and the wall. as you summoned the strength to speak up, your grip on the blanket trembled a little. “wh-what are you looking for?” your voice faded away quietly.
the devil had smirked at your frailty and little dread before running a clawed hand through your unkempt hair “i'm starving, my love.” before leaning in and drinking in your aroma, it spoke in the lowest, almost infantile voice. “won't you feed me nice and well, love? after all, you did want this to be real, right?” you weren't sure if it was the tone of his voice or the proximity, but you nodded in accord.
he grabbed your neck and ran his tongue across his lips before taking you into a harsh but passionate kiss. soft cherry red lips ravished your lips in a ravenous embrace while his hands roamed across your body, grasping and groping everything it could find.
a deep moan emerged from both of you as you felt the tightness of his jeans against your leg, causing a burning feeling. the burning of want burned through your skin everywhere he touched, everywhere he invaded with his mouth, hands, and body. it was almost a nasty, twisted euphoria that made your cunt clench around nothing in eagerness.
as the unnamed monster looked you up and down, an almost animalistic growl exited his throat as he took a deep inhale, you gasped for air. “love, you smell so fucking amazing for me.” he spoke in hushed tones through little pockets of air. “you're so delicious that i could devour you whole.”
the very thought of doing so appeared to amuse him, as he let out a brief but malicious laugh before narrowing his focus to the blanket still clinging to you.
with a scowl on his face, he clasped his larger hand around the one holding the blanket in place before yanking at it, only to have you keep it in place. the devil, with his head cocked to the side, gazed at you, perplexed, as if he didn't understand what you were doing.
“it's just that,” you murmured, tightening your jaw at the gaze those empty eyes gave you like a chill up your spine, "i feel comfortable like this...” you muttered the last bit, swallowing any spit you had.
but there was no justification or apology for him, so he raised his claw into the air and cut the blanket, ripping it open wide.
fear, as well as the lust racing through your veins, were clouding your judgment once more. the notion that his claws were so near to slicing you terrified you and turned you on like nothing you'd ever experienced. it gave a sense of how perilous it was to be so near to this creature, which was part of what made it so thrilling.
"baby, nothing is safe when i'm around."
those words, on the other hand, did it for you. you reached out to him as soon as you dropped the tattered blanket on the floor, exposing yourself to him. you drew him back into another intense kiss by wrapping your arms around him and springing up to wrap your legs around his waist. as he grasped your thighs to keep you in place, he was caught completely off guard by your sudden bravery.
each passing breath spent on one another battling for control, hips sliding up against each other as your damp panties rubbed up against his encaged dick, which was most definitely pressing painfully against the denim trousers he was wearing, made the kiss more hungry and animal-like. the cool contact of skin moving up against your back and down your underwear made you whimper.
despite his animalistic state, you always thought he was beautiful, a rare creature. "you're beautiful," you murmured, oblivious to the fact that you were saying it aloud. he laughed with his head tilted back. his neck was big and thick, but it was the raised markings that went all the way around it that caught your eye; they were woven together like chains, as if he had been choked with scorching metal.
the demon kissed you long and hard, barely pausing to breathe. His tongue was lengthy and had a split down the center. it was a novel experience that was strangely addictive. you became engrossed in the way it encircled your own. with his fangs, the monster simply paused to tug on your lower lip. as his hand moved down to your thigh, you let out a faint little groan.
he sang, “such a good girl,” as he drew you up into his arms. Jungkook snatched you up like feather. as you placed your legs around his tiny waist, his arms bulged. before he entered your room, he gave you a lengthy, scorching kiss. you had your arms around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair and scraping against the base of one of his horns as an experiment.
the devil looked down at you as you lay on your bed, his crimson eyes flashing in the dim light. only those eyes and the white-tipped base of his horns could be seen with the moon blearily seeping through your blinds. it felt as though the monster beneath your bed had arrived to devour you. slowly, he moved his hand up the wall, flicking on the light and bathing you both in a golden glow.
you eventually let your gaze drift away from his, focusing on his toned chest, tight waist, and muscular thighs. when you noticed the bulge yearning to be freed from his pants, you licked your lips. he finally went closer, his lips brushing against yours as he crept between your legs. his hands crept up to the band of your shorts, the heat of his palm scorching and heavy on your bare thighs.
he yanked your shorts down your hips and flung them behind him as he kissed you. he tore through your shirt even quicker, softly cursing as he saw your naked breasts. you yanked on his shirt, trying to get a better look at him and to touch every scrap of exposed flesh you could discover. he sat back and yanked his shirt off, displaying golden skin stained with crimson ink and muscular abs that rippled with each breath. you were so focused on his appearance that you almost missed the expression in his eye as he glanced down at you.
“fuck, you look like an angel,” he said, reaching down to rip your panties apart, only to shred them. your moist lips were exposed by the chilly air as you gasped. at the sight, he bit his lower lip and groaned. “very gentle and plaint." slowly, he ran his hands down your body, starting at the rib cage and working their way down to your thighs.
his fingers became hotter and hotter along the way, till they were on the verge of burning. until he came to your knees and quickly shoved your legs apart and up, crimson streaks remained on your skin. smirking at your hiss of pain, his palms pushed your thigh back till they touched your chest. “so ready to be used,” he states.
"please do."
“well, angel, since you asked so nicely,” he leaned very close to your cunt and licked a lengthy strip. his forked tongue slithered inside your slit, relishing in the lengthy groan that came out of your mouth. he swirled above the opening for a minute, then slipped just the tip of it inside when you finally relaxed against him.
jungkook gradually started penetrating your pussy with his tongue. the warm, slithery appendage that slithers in and out of you with increasing ease, flicking at your g-spot and making you whine in delight. you exhaled with relief when he licked up to your clit, only to scream when he clamped his mouth over the delicate nub and sucked hard enough for you to see stars.
moans and groans emitted from your lips and the demon could have sworn he had never heard anything prettier. his mouth salivates against your lips, only causing him to dip down near your entrance and trail his tongue back to your little nub. oh how sweet you were.
"my angel's already close to cumming?" there was no denying that. he had already noticed you were quickly approaching your high by the way you tugged on his locks and the way your moans became higher in pitch.
the demon took two of his long fingers and slipped them into your pussy, a squelching noise emitting from the action. you tugged so hard on your lips that it was plump and swollen, the irony blood almost spilling from them. he quickly started pumping his fingers and curling it, sending you seeing stars. he wanted you to get ready for the real deal (aka his cock).
"god, please fuck me, please please i'm so close to cumming but i wanna cum on your cock, please," if it weren't for you sounding so pretty and desperate for him, the demon would have prolonged the foreplay.
“there is no ‘god' here,” he hissed, sliding two fingers inside your pussy and sucking hard on your clit as you almost shouted in delight. his fingers curled within you quickly, drawing you closer to the brink. your fingers ran aimlessly through his hair, yanking it back to keep him near. you scratched on one of his horns with your nails.
it wasn't until another orgasm crashed upon you that the demon stopped.
you were spent; messy hair, hazy eyes, drool dripping down your chin and onto your neck and some parts of your chest.
as sly as a fox, you felt jungkook pressing his heavy length on your clit, the warmth and hardness of it evident in the way it pressed up against the little nub. jungkook evilly rutted against the bundle, sending sharp pleasures erupting from the mere action.
you thought he would stop at a few thrusts, however, jungkook had other plans in mind. those being seeing you completely helpless underneath him (not like you weren't before).
with one more came a push, your insides clenching and squeezing the head of his cock like a vice. jungkook stills above you; only the tip in and you're already this tight? he allows a shaky breath to reveal itself from his throat, the sound coming out a little more strangled and choked that he intended it to be.
you took him inch by glorious inch. the two of you reveled in the pleasure, drinking off of each other's moans and heat.
the rest of the night was spent in each other's arms. it wasn't romantic, but it sure as hell was full of pleasure.
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Note
I have another question: Have you read the demon slayer manga by any chance? If so, how far into it are you? like have you eat all of the chapters already? Cause I got the idea where even after MC is sent back to their original world, the boys are still able to check up on how MC is doing through the mirror from the opening ceremony. That way when MC eventually participates in the final fight against Muzan they get the chance to truly see MC in action which brings me to my actual question (Assuming you've read everything to avoid spoilers) how would they react to the severity of MCs injuries against Muzan or even some of the upper moons? Based on their personalities who do you think would be cheering for MC, begging them to live another day so they can have a chance to meet again since they're absolutely working on a way with Crowley to bring them back. Since this is the battle against the big boss,it means demon slayers won't be necessary and it'll be fine for MC to live the rest of their days in peace at NRC or in the world of NRC right? on the other hand, who do you think would instead be hoping that MC will stay down and receive medical treatment, let the other slayers handle the rest of the battle because they're already so badly injured they really shouldn't push themselves any further and they can't bear to see their friend hurt so badly (Considering what happens to a majority of the cast, if MC is a pillar, Ooooooh boy.)
I also found an absolutely amazing demon slayer video that's fan made but I don't want to risk spoiling anything cause it's way later on in the series, hence why I asked earlier.
So I just read some of the manga (not in order cause being orderly and me do not mix)
Decided to detail the fights more cause they can all be summed up to “worried as heck” with varying degrees
WARNING SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA OF DEMON SLAYER (I TALK ABOUT SOME OF THE UPPER MOON FIGHTS, WHO BEATS THEM AND SOME IMPORTANT STUFF ON THE TANJIRO FIGHT. ALSO A SPOILER FOR THE DEMON SLAYER MOVIE Y’ALL KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT)
The upper moon fights that MC likely participate in are the Hantengu fight and Douma or Kokushibo (I will cover both) before Muzan
Being a successor of a Hashira, if they were the flame pillar or the sound pillar’s tsugoku it’s likely they might even join the hashira if deemed skilled enough and since they joined in overblot fights, their skills definitely weren’t slacking so it’s likely they have
During the Hantengu fight they join Mitsuri in fighting Hantengu’s strongest clone so the others can go for the main body but since Mitsuri was the one to jump in and get the attack to the face and recalls her past, only she awakens the demon slayer mark
Douma has a past of pissing people off and ruining families and if they were Shinobu’s tsugoku alongside Kanao then they know full well what she plans to do and Adeuce and the others really wish they could go and comfort MC as the grief on their face at the idea of their master dying is clear
If MC is a girl and joins Shinobu in the fight, they might wind up getting eaten by Douma alongside Shinobu if they fight well enough and Kanao doesn’t make it in time, in this scenario Lilia and several other Diasomnia members have to calm Malleus down as his anger at watching his friend die while being helpless is clear as the others grieve
Luckily in this scenario, if the mirror keeps on to at least see Shinobu’s plan through then they get to see Douma’s defeat by his own gluttony with Kanao and Inosuke dealing the finishing blow
If they end up not being eaten or just don’t catch Douma’s interest (either by not being a female, them being saved by Kanao in the fight or other possible reasons), Grim really wishes he could join and melt all the ice created by Douma as his blood demon art starts to freeze them as they throw their own swords alongside Inosuke (or help in some other way) to assist Kanao in finishing the blow against Douma and ending him once and for all
Azul, Jade, Jamil, Leona, Lilia, Malleus, Riddle, Rook, Vil and the teachers have to applaud Shinobu for her suicidal yet extremely effective plan, they likely would not defeated Douma without her and hope she rests in peace (ngl her death broke my heart lol)
If they ended up fighting Kokushibo, they’re all pretty shocked to see the regenerative abilities of a demon both from Kokushibo and Genya, they had heard about it from MC but seeing the extent of how far it can go in this fight amazes them
The Kokushibo fight seems allergic to letting people under the age of 18 survive (Muichiro death was sad but Genya death animated may actually emotionally break me) so it’s very possible that they die in the fight as after all Kokushibo is the strongest demon moon that probably spits on Upper moon 6’s 22 pillars killed so it’s very unlikely that they could ever leave this fight unscathed or with their life
Jack has to help Adeuce and Grim who are breaking down as they watch their friend who they were hanging out with the other day like normal teenagers would, give their life to defeat the demon who has killed hundreds of people
The older members of the cast like the teachers, Malleus and Lilia all have moments of silence for the young lives slain by the man who was obsessed with being the strongest samurai
In the Muzan fight (if they make it there alive), since they’re stronger than many other members, the lower ranked demon slayers give their lives to protect them a gruesome sight that characters like Kalim have to cover their eyes to all the death and gore in the mirror
MC like Tanjiro and the hashira get poisoned by Muzan’s blood and all of them think it’s the end until Tamayo’s cat comes in and saves them, avid dog lovers like Crewel have to give props to the cat for saving their lives
It’s possible that at the memory of the twst cast waiting for them to win and the family they’ve lost yo Muzan, MC gets their demon slayer mark to help them in the fight against Muzan, luckily if they are aware of the demon slayer mark’s deadly condition from Kokushibo, the more experienced magicians and potions experts like Crewel, Vil, etc. believe that if MC gets through the fight they could create a way to prevent the demon slayer mark from ending their life at the young age of 25 something that brings hope to all of them
Of course optimistic thoughts like that can also be crushed at the end of the fight after Muzan disintegrates under the sun once and for all since they could’ve received fatal injuries in the fight until dawn and die with the kakushi trying to save them, while the others plead for them to be sent back to their world so they can receive immediate treatment and are reminded of the fact that they likely won’t make it and are forced to just let them die surrounded by their comrades
If they manage to survive the fight against Muzan (likely having one of their senses permanently ruined, having a lot of permanent scars on their body or even missing a limb or two) and are ready to just retire for the rest of their life and they receive a message from the twst cast are always welcome to have them back if they want to retire in their world
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Love and Medicine ~ 3
MASTERLIST
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< previous chapter
Word Count: 4,600ish
Summary: The beginning of your intern year continues.
Warnings: man parts (lol) and talk about rape
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You really tried your best, but you couldn’t get the image of a naked Dr. Steve Rogers on the floor of your living room out of your head. You had decided one night that, to help get the image out of your head, you needed roommates. The house that you had inherited was big enough and the longer you lived there, the lonelier it became. So, you created a ‘roommates wanted’ sign and posted it in the locker room before your shift.
You had several interns come up to you explaining why they would be the perfect roommate for you within the first few hours of your shift. It was annoying and you turned every single one of them down, being very particular about who was going to live with you.
“Why do you put up posters for roommates if you don’t want roommates?” Val asked as you, her, and Scott walked down a corridor.
“I do want roommates,” you defended. 
“And why can’t we be those roommates?” Scott wondered
“We’re just together a hundred hours a week, you want to live together too?”
“No,” Natasha responded, walking up to the group. “Ooh, you’re bringing bribes now?” She motioned to the cup of coffee in your hand.
“I need a place to live,” Scott rambled. “My mom irons my scrubs. I have to get out of there.”
“It’s not a bride,” you told Natasha before turning to Scott. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“But I can’t put down last, first, and deposit,” Scott argued.
“It’s totally a bride,” Natasha scoffed.
“I can cook,” Val added. “And I can clean.”
“No,” you stated. “I just want two total strangers who I don't have to talk to, or be nice to, and it's not a bribe, it's a mocha latte.”
“Clint, you’re running the code team,” Gamora ordered as you all walked up to her. “Y/N, take the trauma patients, Natasha, deliver the weekend labs to patients, Val, you’re on sutures, and Scott, you’re on scut.”
“Dr. Gamora,” you called. “I was hoping to assist you in the OR today, maybe do a minor procedure? I think I'm ready. Mocha latte?” You held the cup out for her.
“If she gets to cut, I want to cut too,” Natasha added.
“Yeah, me too,” Val joined in.
“I wouldn’t mind another shot,” Scott shrugged.
“And if everybody else gets one, then I do too!” Clint said.
“Stop talking,” Gamora demanded. You all fell silent. “Every intern wants to perform their first surgery, that's not your job. Do you know what your job is? To make your resident happy. Do I look happy? No. Why? Because my interns are whining. You know what will make me look happy? Having the code team staffed, having the trauma patients taken care of, having the weekend labs delivered, and having someone down in the Pit, doing the sutures.” She swiped the mocha latte from your hand. “No one holds a scalpel until I'm so happy I'm Mary freakin' Poppins.”
“Mocha latte my ass,” Natasha grumbled.
“Why’re y’all still standing there? Move!”
Everyone moved, you heading to the elevator with a few files. You paused in your steps when you noticed who was waiting at the elevator. Dr. Steve Rogers. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, before making your way to stand and wait next to him. When he noticed you, he tried to hide the pleasant smile that wanted to take over his face.
“New York has ferry boats,” he stated.
“Yes,” you replied, a bit confused.
“I didn’t remember that. I grew up here then left, now I’ve been living here for six weeks, and I didn’t remember there were ferry boats.”
“Well, Manhattan is an island.”
“Hence the ferry boats.” The elevator arrived and the two of you stepped onto it. “Now I have to like it here. I wasn’t planning on liking it here. I just moved here from the country. I’m supposed to not like big cities like Manhattan. But I have a thing for ferry boats.”
The elevators doors closed, leaving them alone in the elevator. He was leaning against the wall behind you as you stood in the middle, holding the files to your body. You hoped that he couldn’t hear your heart pounding in your chest. 
“I’m not going out with you,” you blurted. You don’t know if you were trying to tell him that or if you were trying to convince yourself that you weren’t interested.
“Did I ask you to go out with me?” He questioned. He paused before asking the next, “Do you want to go out with me?”
“I'm not dating you. And I'm definitely not sleeping with you again. You're my boss.”
“I'm your boss's boss.”
“You're my teacher. And my teacher's teacher. And you're my teacher.”
“I'm your sister, I'm your daughter,” he joked.
“You're sexually harassing me.”
“I'm riding an elevator.” He stepped towards you, you could practically feel him breathing down your neck. You spun around to face him.
“Look, I'm drawing a line. The line is drawn. There's a big line.”
“So, this line. Is it imaginary, or do I need to get you a marker?”
You stared at him for a second, basking in all his attractiveness. It didn’t take you very long to go ‘screw it’ and drop the files you were holding and kiss him. Steve was a tad surprised but caught on quickly. When the elevator dinged, you quickly crouched down to pick up the files and rushed out of the elevator. Steve stood there, looking amused.
“We’ll talk later?” He called after you. You ignored him and he chuckled to himself. “Definitely, later.”
~~~
In between taking care of patients, you had interns begging you to let them be your roommate. You were slowly regretting the idea of roommates the longer the day went on. Thankfully, your pager rang and requested you down in the ER.
“You the surgeon?” A nurse asked as you entered the room.
“Yes,” you replied.
“We’ve got a rape victim. 21-year-old female found down at the park, status: post-trauma, she came in with a GCS of 6, BP 80 over 60, head trauma, unequal breath sounds, right pupil is dilated, and she's ready for x-ray. You ready to roll?” You were listening but also focused on the girl’s shoes. They were the same ones you had worn to work. “Hey!”
“Uh, sorry,” you stumbled. “Yeah. Call it in to clear CT, let them know I'm coming, load up the portable monitor, call respiratory for a ventilator, I'll get x-rays while I'm down there.”
You quickly learned that the girls name was Mallory and, just by you reading the scans alone, she would be needing surgery. Dr. Banner and Dr. Rogers were both called in while you were allowed to watch and hopefully assist.
“She’s going to spend a hell of a lot of time in recovery and rehab,” Dr. Rogers stated.
“If she survives,” Dr. Banner added.
“What is she, like, 5'2", a hundred pounds, she's still breathing after what this guy did to her? If they catch the guy, they should castrate him.”
“See how shredded her hands are? She tried to fight back.”
“Tried to?” Dr. Stark repeated, walking into the room. “Rape kit came back negative. She kicked his ass.”
“So, we have a warrior amount us, huh?” Rogers questioned. 
“Hell yeah we do! I just came in to tell you about the rape kit and to see if you needed me anytime soon. Can’t have the poor girl be reminded of the incident with so many scars.”
“Mallory,” you interrupted. “Her—her name is Mallory.”
“Mallory,” Rogers and Stark repeated. 
“I think I may have found the cause of our rupture,” Banner said, pulling out a piece of flesh. “What is this?” He held it up. “Does anyone know what this is?”
“Oh my gosh,” you gasped, with Dr. Stark snickering from the sidelines.
“What? Spit it out, L/N.”
“She bit it off.”
“Bit off what?”
“That’s his…” You swallowed. “His penis.” Shocked groans filled the OR. “She bit off his penis.”
“Told you she kicked his ass!” Stark exclaimed as Banner couldn’t toss the piece of flesh into the try fast enough. 
~~~
After the surgery, the penis was placed in a small cooler. You were tasked to bring it to Fury for the police. You knocked at the door of his office, where an older woman is in there.
“Hi, is the chief in?” You asked.
“He’s on his way,” she responded. “Is that it?”
“Can I see it?” You looked down at the box and then up again. “No, forget I asked.”
“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Fury greeted as he entered, going to his desk.
“You too, sir,” you responded with a nod. “Listen, so they said to bring this to you,” you lifted up the cooler. “So…?”
“Yes, for the police,” Fury responded.
“Right.”
“When did the police say they'll come?” Fury asked his assistant.
“You know how slow they are,” she answered. “So, she’d better take it with her.”
“What?” You questioned.
“You have to take it with you.”
“Chain of custody rules,” Fury explained. “All medical matter in a rape must stay with the person who collected it, until it's placed in police custody.”
“You collected the specimen, so you have custody.”
“Custody of a penis…” You said.
“Yes,” Fury answered. “Until the cops come for it.”
“Okay. Well, what am I supposed to do with the penis?”
Fury simply shrugged before excusing you. You huffed, leaving the office with the cooler. You wandered the halls until you saw Clint working at a desk. You walked over, setting the cooler down and causing Clint to look up at you.
“What’s that?” He pointed to the cooler as he asked.
“Don’t ask, you don’t want to know,” you responded.
“I do want to know. Really.”
“You really want to know?” Clint nodded. “It’s a severed penis.”
“Okay… I didn’t really want to know.”
“Told you.”
“I didn’t know why I have to be the one who gets hugged,” Natasha complained to Peter as they walked up.
“Because, I don’t do that,” Peter replied. “Besides, you're the ovarian sister here.”
“Did you just call me an ovarian sis— an ovarian— since when has the possession of ovaries become an insult?”
“Y/N’s carrying a penis around in a jar,” Clint interrupted.
“Oh, from the rape surgery?” Natasha looked around.
“Yeah,” you answered. “And it’s not a jar, it’s a cooler.”
“Talk about taking a bite out of crime.” Natasha chuckled as she left.
You were suddenly lost in your head, unable to stop thinking about Mallory’s shoes. They were the same as yours. You had worn them to work today, which was weird. You never really wear them.
“You okay?” Clint asked.
“Yeah… it’s just… Mallory's shoes. The rape victim, Mallory, her shoes. I have the same ones. In my locker. And I normally never wear them, because they're not comfortable, but today I did, and she was wearing the same shoes, and it's just… stupid, and I'm tired, and forget it.”
“You know what you need?” Clint stared at you.
“No. It’s stick and twisted. We said last time was the last time.” Clint looked away. “You’ve been doing it without me?”
“Nancy Reagan lied. You can't just say no. Come on.”
“Do you know what would happen if anyone knew?”
“I'm doing it. You can come with me… or you can stay here, and be miserable.”
“Fine,” you tried to hold back a smile as you followed Clint. 
He led you to the nursery, where you two stood at the window and watched the babies. You laughed as Clint did some baby talk.
“You are such a woman,” you laughed.
Clint’s pager beeped before he could retorted. “It’s a code,” he sighed. “I gotta go.” 
He left, leaving you to sigh as you watched the babies.
“You are really cute,” you whispered as you looked at them.
As you watched them, you noticed at one of the babies was struggling. His face was slowly turning blue. You quickly entered the nursery, setting the cooler to the side before checking the babies chart. Then you sided your stethoscope to check on the babies heart.
“What are you doing in here?” A Peds Intern asked, walking into the room.
“There were no tests ordered,” you answered. “And the baby has a murmur.”
“I know.”
“He turned blue.”
“You're surgery, you're not authorized to be in here. Do you know how much trouble you can get into for this?”
“Are you going to do any tests?”
“It's a benign systolic ejection murmur. It goes away with age.”
“So you're not going to do any tests.”
“He's not your patient, he's not even on your service.”
“Are you sure it’s benign?”
“I'm a doctor too, you know. You should get out of here.”
Deciding you’d rather not get in trouble, you grabbed the cooler and left. You were stopped along your wandering by more interns who wanted to room with you. After having listened to three of them, you walked away, still unimpressed, and went to Mallory’s room. You were looking at her through the window when Dr. Rogers came up.
“Y/N,” he greeted. “I've called every hospital in the county. Sooner or later, the guy that did this is going to seek medical attention, and when he does, that penis you're carrying around is going to nail him.”
“Where is her family?” You asked.
“Doesn’t have any.”
“No siblings?”
“No. Both parents are dead. She just moved to New York three weeks ago. Welcome to the city.” When you didn’t give a response he turned to look at you. You were lost in your thoughts. “Y/N, you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. I just… I just have to do something. I have to go.”
“Right. I’m going to sit with her.”
You nodded before rushing away to find Dr. Banner.
“Dr. Banner?” You called when you saw him.
“Mmm?” He hummed, turning to face you.
“There's a baby up in peds, I saw him have a tet spell, and I think I hear a murmur.”
“Mmm. Did peds call us for a consult?”
“Actually, no. They’re not doing anything about it—“
“So you want me to what?”
“If you could just go up and look at him—“
“Mm-hmm, not without a Peds consult.”
“Yeah, but—“
“I’m a busy man, L/N, and there are rules. Look, it’s not like I’m the Chief or something.”
Then he stocked off, leaving you frustrated. 
“Stupid rules.”
~~~
Eventually, you found a spot in the lobby to sit. Just waiting for the cops to show up.
“What’re you doing down here?” Natasha asked when she came across you.
“Just sitting here with my penis,” you responded. “What about you?”
“Hiding from Peter.” She sat beside you.
“I kissed Steve.”
“You kissed Steve.”
“In the elevator.”
“Oh, you kissed him in the elevator.”
“I was having a bad day. I am having a bad day.”
“Oh, so this is what you do on your bad days. Make out with Captain McDreamy.” You both stood up.
“Well, that, and you know, carrying around a penis just makes everything seem so shiny and happy.”
“Mmm. Clint said Mallory was wearing your shoes.”
“Yeah. It’s weird, right?”
“I think it’s weird that you care.”
“I think it’s weird.”
From outside, a car swerves. You and Natasha could hear it from inside, causing you to rush out. A man staggered out of the car, clothes soaked in blood, mainly around his crotch. He collapses. Other doctors and nurses followed you out and immediately began checking on him. You immediately knew that the guy was the owner of the penis you had been carrying around all day. The other doctors brought him into a trauma room. You followed, quickly calling security.
“So, what’ve we got?” Gamora asked as she entered.
“Take a look,” you responded.
“What?” She leaned closer. “Alright, let’s get him to OR 1. Y/N, you call the Chief and let him know we got the rapist.”
~~~
You and Natasha were in the OR with Gamora and Stark. They were working on the rapist.
“I saw Mallory,” you said, eyes on the operating table. “You can’t believe the beating that she took. And then to see this…”
“It's like that old saying, you should see the other guy,” Natasha said.
“Okay, kiddos, why are we not attempting to reattach the severed penis?” Dr. Stark asked.
“Teeth don’t slice, they tear. You can only reattach with a clean cut. If she wanted to slice him off with a knife…”
“Besides,” you continued for Natasha, “the digestive juices didn't leave much of the flesh to work with.”
“Right,” Gamora agreed, “so what do we do?”
“Sew him up minus a large part of the family jewels,” Natasha answered.
“And his outlook?”
“He'll be urinating out of a bag for a very, very long time,” Natasha added.
“Oh, too bad.”
“Shame.”
“I can’t imagine not having sex,” Stark commented. “I think that I would just end my life if I couldn’t do a round every day.” Everyone looked at him. “What? It shouldn’t be that surprising.”
“No wonder, Dr. Potts keeps turning you down,” Gamora said.
“I’ll get her one day. Just you wait. I’m going to marry that woman if it’s the last thing I do.”
~~~
You met with the police after the surgery where they told you that they couldn’t send their crime scene guy down for hours. Annoyed, you searched for your intern friends. You found them in the empty corridor, sitting on the beds.
“So, the police say that they can’t send down the crack crime scene guy for hours,” you told them as you entered, sitting down beside Natasha. “So I have to spend the night with a penis. Peter, don’t say it.”
“Ahh, it was too easy anyway,” Peter responded.
“Who here feels like they have no idea what they’re doing?” Scott asked. Everyone of you, but Peter, raised a hand.
“I mean, are we supposed to be learning something?” Clint wondered. “Because I don’t feel like I’m learning anything.”
“Except how not to sleep,” Val added.
“It’s like there’s this wall,” Natasha said, “and the attending and the residents are over there, being surgeons, and we’re over here, being—“
“Suturing, code running, lab delivering penis-minders,” you grumbled.
“I hate being an intern,” Peter stated.
Gamora walked into the hallway, looking expectant. All of you interns quickly got up and took your leave. All the others had things to do, so you found yourself in front of the babies again. As you looked at the baby you’re so worried about, you noticed the parents. Taking a deep breath, you decided to go up to them.
“Hi,” you greeted with a soft smile.
“Hi,” the mother greeted back.
“Is he yours?” You nodded to the baby.
“Yeah,” the mother smiled.
“He’s adorable… Have you noticed anything that would concern you?”
“No,” the father responded. “Have you?”
“Earlier today I noticed him turning blue.”
“Blue?” The mother repeated.
“Yes. I checked him and I heard a murmur.”
“We were told that the murmur was benign,” the father stated.
“I don’t think it is. I think—“
“You are so out of line,” the Peds Intern interrupted.
“She says the murmur might not be benign,” the father said.
“I think we should do an echo, to check,” you suggested.
“This is your career,” the intern said, going to get her resident.
“There’s really no reason to get alarmed,” you told the parents.
“What’s the problem?” The resident asked, coming back with the intern.
“If our baby is sick, we want him treated,” the mother ordered. “Now.”
“Who said your baby was sick?”
“Her,” the Peds Intern answered, pointing to you. “The surgical intern who has no business on our service.”
“Who authorized you being here?”
“I was just,” you began, “actually—“
“I did,” Dr. Banner came up from behind you. “Could you excuse us for a second?” Dr. Banner took the resident to the side, but not far enough for you to not hear. “Are you messing with my intern, Dr. Keener?”
“No, sir,” the resident responded.
Dr. Banner turned back to you and the other intern. “Give me the chart.”
“There’s nothing wrong with him,” the intern said, giving up the chart, “I checked.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“You can guarantee that he is fine, you are 100% sure.”
The intern looked hesitant.
“How sure are you?” The resident questioned.
“I don’t know,” the intern responded. “75%.”
“Not good enough,” Banner said. “He’s my patient now. That okay with you, Dr. K?”
“Absolutely,” the resident responded.
“He can take our patient?” The intern asked.
“He’s an attending.”
“Which means I can do whatever I want,” Banner replied before heading to the parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, I’m Dr. Banner, head of cardio. We’re going to run some tests and give you an answer within the hour. Excuse me.” He turned to you. “L/N.” He motioned for you to follow, which you quickly did. “I want an EKG, a chest x-ray, and an ECHO. I don’t have all day.”
“You’re a busy man.”
“I’m a busy man.”
You quickly ordered the tests then wandered the hospital more, since you weren’t allowed to do anything while you were watching the penis. After a little while, you found Dr. Banner again.
“Well?” You asked as you walked up to him.
“It’s a birth defect,” Dr. Banner replied. “Tetrology affirmed lower pulmonary artresia. You were right. I'm booking the OR for tomorrow.”
“Thank you for backing me up on this.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait, whoa. You were right. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again...going to the parents behind a doctor's back? Trying to steal a patient from another service? I will make your residency year hell on earth.”
He walked off and you smiled slightly to yourself. You made your way back to the babies, where you watched, from the other side of the window, Banner talk to the parents.
“His heart surgery is scheduled for the morning,” the Peds Intern told you. “I really did think I was right, you know.”
“I know. We almost never are. We're interns,” you responded. “We're not supposed to be right. And when we are, it's completely shocking.”
“Are you— I mean, being an intern, do you feel…”
“Terrified. 100% of the time.”
“Good, it’s not just me.”
“No.”
You decided, after finishing up with the babies, to go check on Mallory. When you arrived, you realized that Steve was still in there.
“How is she?” You asked, standing in the doorway.
“No change,” Steve answered with a sigh.
“Have you been here all night?”
“Mm-hmm. Yup… If I was in a comma, I’d want someone to be here. I know I would have people there. Having no one? Can’t imagine that.”
“I can.”
“Don’t you have any family?”
“I do. Just… I don’t think they’d come.”
Steve watched you carefully before speaking again. “So… we’re kissing but we’re not dating?”
“I knew that was going to come up.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I like the kissing. I’m all for the kissing. More kissing, I say.”
“I have no idea what that was about.”
“Is it going to happen again? Because if it is, I need to bring breath mints. Put a condom in my wallet.”
“Shut up now.” Steve laughed. “There was this baby up in the nursery. He's brand new. No one's neglected him or damaged him yet. How do we get from there to here? She's wearing my shoes and someone's beat the crap out of her, and she's got nobody.”
Suddenly, Mallory’s machine’s began beeping. You quickly hit an alarm on the wall.
“Her ICP’s double, get an OR!” Steve yelled. “Put her in for a craniotomy!”
~~~
You waited outside the OR, still watching over the stupid penis, while Steve operated on Mallory. You were nervous for her and felt bad that no one was there for her. Once the surgery was over, Steve exited the OR, walking past you. When he noticed you were there, he turned back.
“Hey,” he greeted. “I, uh, I had to leave her skull flap off, till the pressure in her brain goes down.”
“She’s not going to make it, is she?” You asked.
“She’s going to be fine.”
“If she ever wakes up.”
Steve nodded. “If she ever wakes up.” You nodded, biting your lip as you looked away. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Your pager went off. You looked down to see it was the Chief. “I’ve gotta go. That’s the Chief. Maybe I can finally get rid of this thing.” You lifted the cooler slightly.
“Yeah,” Steve chuckled. “Good luck.”
~~~
“So here is where you put the signature, down here, the initials,” Fury’s assistant pointed out on a paper.
“Mmm,” you hummed with a nod, taking the paper and pen from her. “Okay.”
“It just says that the penis was never out of your sight.”
“Of course.” You sighed and handed over the paper. “There you go. One penis.” You glanced at the clock and realized that it was time for the baby’s surgery. “Am I all done here? I kinda want to go watch a surgery.”
“Sure.”
You tried to rush, but not rush, to the OR Dr. Banner was working in. When you arrived, you found a spot in the back.
“We'll be using a medium approach for a trans-ventricular repair with a right ventriculostomy,” Banner explained. “Let’s open him up. L/N!” He looked around for you.
“Yes, sir?” You replied.
“Go scrub in. When we've finished cracking the baby's chest, I'll let you hold the clamp.”
“Seriously?” You tried to contain your excitement.
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
You rushed to scrubbed in. And, let’s just say, holding onto that clamp was a rush and just what you needed to help brighten your shift. After that, you went to watch the babies, Val, Clint, and Scott all joining you.
You let out a sigh. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “You guys can move into the house.”
“Yes! Yes!” The guys shouted.
“I can’t believe you caved!” Val laughed.
“I can’t believe it either,” you mumbled, trying to hide the smile.
~~~
You changed out of your scrubs and stared at the shoes in your locker. You couldn’t stop thinking about how weird it was that you had decided to wear those shoes today. With determination, you shut the locker on your shoes and went to the elevator. Steve was there waiting.
“So… it’s intense…” he started. “This thing I have for, ah, ferry boats… I mean.”
You smiled at him. “I’m so taking the stairs this time.” You walked off.
“No self-control,” he called after you. “It’s sad. Really.” He chuckled to himself as you continued to walk away. “Wow… this is so—“
“Weird. It’s weird,” Dr. Stark came up, ready to go too. “Like I said before, that look is bad news. And you—“
“Didn’t I already tell you to shut it Tony?”
“Fine.” Tony held his hands up. “But, seriously, don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face.”
next chapter >
NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.
If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.
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cafedanslanuit · 3 years
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♡   —   anonymous said: So I have a HC that V has burn scars on his torso from childhood, and he's v insecure about them - hence why he doesn't like people looking at his body. How would he react to MC kissing them edge to edge and just generally reassuring him that she doesn't think they're ugly n all that soft shit? 👉👈
♡   —   tags/warnings: mentions of scars and fire
♡   —   a/n: aaaaaa i’ve talked about this with @rfadaydreaming​ and @jihyuncompass​!! i love this headcanons so so so much! i haven’t written a lot for jihyun so i hope im doing him justice with this one <3 i really loved writing this one, thanks for requesting! c:
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beautiful
It all started during a beach trip. It was a very hot day, so you got rid of your clothes and stayed in your swimwear. You pulled Jihyun to the ocean but since he was wearing shorts and a shirt, he could only join you until the ocean reached his knees. You told him he should just stay in his swimwear but he refused using a lame excuse. You were about to tease him about it but immediately recognized a hint of pain in his eyes so you just let it go.
The next time it happened was during a lazy Sunday morning. The light was entering your shared bedroom window, making him glow and look beautiful and you couldn’t help but kiss him. The intimacy of the moment filled your senses, wanting nothing more than to touch him and feel him close. Your hands sneaked under the old t-shirt he used as a pajama and just as you were tracing his abs, you felt his hand closing around your wrist. The same pain you had seen at the beach was present again in his teal eyes, only this time there was a pinch of fear with it. After a couple of seconds of looking at each other, he quickly let you go, muttering an apology. Before you could get the courage to ask him about it, he kissed your forehead and left the bed, mumbling something about breakfast.
The third time was after rain surprised you in the middle of a long walk. Both of you ran inside your home soaking wet, laughing as you closed the door behind you. You took off your coat and helped Jihyun get out of his as well. Looking at him laugh so earnestly, some of his hair sticking to his face made you realize how truly beautiful he really was. “I love you so much,” you whispered and he widened his eyes, taken aback. Soon after, he smiled at you and promised he loved you as well.
Not being able to resist, you pulled him closer, feeling his drenched clothes against yours. You held his face in between your hands and pressed your lips against his. His hands found their way to the small of your back as he kissed you. You had loved than man for years, loved him when you stayed awake at that cabin taking care of him and you loved him when he left. You loved him even more the day he returned to your arms and swore you would never let go again. Your hands trailed down his jaw and neck, making their way to his shirt, where you started unbuttoning it slowly. You felt him tensing under your touch and his hands clasped over yours once more. You searched for his eyes and saw the same look again, the pain, the fear and now, you could recognize a bit of shame amongst them.
“Please,” you whispered and you felt his hands tremble. A few seconds later, you felt his grip loosen. His eyes avoided yours as you began unbuttoning his shirt, one by one, measuring his reactions to know if you were pushing too hard. His shirt slid down from his shoulders and you noticed him wincing.
Even with the dimming lights coming through the windows of the living room, the burn scars were more than visible for you to notice. They were big and covered a good portion of his pale chest. While they didn’t hold much coloring, the wrinkled skin gave them away. Some of them were thick while some of them made his skin look so frail your heart ached for him. You found yourself tracing his scars with your fingers as softly as you could, while you thought about the fire he had whispered to you during a late night. The memories of his mother were present in each one of his scars and, knowing him like you knew now, you could tell those scars could not even begin to show the emotional pain he must have been under all those years.
Lowering your head, your lips found the closest scar, one just below his collarbone and placed a small kiss. You felt Jihyun’s body tensing, his face immediately turning to you. You looked up at him and noticed his previously avoidant eyes filling up with tears. You moved your lips to another scar, one in the middle of his chest and probably the biggest one and pressed the softest of kisses on top of it. Jihyun’s hands held onto your shoulders as if he was to lose balance any second. You continued looking for every scar on his trembling chest, pressing kisses on them, your nose nuzzling his skin as you looked for another one.
When you finally stretched your back and looked at Jihyun’s teal eyes again, you noticed his face damped with tears, small sobs stil. Stepping on your toes, you pressed a kiss on the corner of his quivering mouth.
“You’re so beautiful,” you said against his lips, your hands on top of his shoulder blades, thumb stroking his skin softly. “And I’m so in love with you.”
This time, it was Jihyun who pressed his lips against yours, finding comfort in your touch and soft words. You stayed locked in a tight embrace, wet clothes from the rain and quiet love promises, knowing you had finally torn down the last standing wall in between you both.
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queen-ofsunflowers · 3 years
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Some stuff about my MnM AU that I wanted to talk about because I can't stop thinking about it lately. Because the games never talk about some of the characters' parents, this is the stuff I came up with on my own.
Yuriko and Daichi Arisato
Minato's parents who barely reached thirty. Yes, we're starting things off with the SAD.
Yuriko shares her son's witty and sarcastic traits, as well as his eye color (take note of this, as it tips off a few people as to who Minato exactly is later down the line.) Daichi is somewhat calmer than his wife, though he's more attuned to logic and reason more than emotion. Very few things can change his mind regarding his thought process. And if you harm or threaten the people they care about, they will show no mercy. This is another trait Minato also inherited.
Yuriko is Ayame's younger sister and Tsubaki's older one. That's right, she's smack dab in the middle.
AU-wise, they worked at the Kirijo Ergo Labs. Daichi originally was part of the team that worked with the Anti-Shadow Weapons, while Yuriko handled primarily Shadow research. However, following a certain incident, Daichi was transferred to his wife's department.
They had a hard time finding people to take care of Minato while they worked and who lived in the area. It didn't help that Minato was shy as a kid. So, they often brought him along to the labs. This is why he was there the night his parents were killed.
When Yuriko, Daichi and Eiichiro Takeba (Yukari's father) discovered the true goal of their work and the direction things were heading, they turned against their fellow researchers and decided to destroy everything to keep Shadows from being exploited. And ya know... stop their crazy co-workers from ending the fucking world. Of course, that is not what happened.
Daichi was killed directly by Ikutsuki after fucking things up for them. This does get brought up on 11/5.
Yuriko was the one who gave Aigis her last order prior to her brief deactivation. It was to protect her son. Due to the events of that night, Aigis can only recall this order upon reactivation on Yakushima.
Daichi's and Yuriko's last words to Minato were "i promise that everything will be okay" and "we love you" respectively. Unlike her husband, Yuriko had realized that she wasn't going to make it out alive, hence the order she gave Aigis.
Minato saw the fight that ended up killing his mother and his father's moment of death. There's a lot of trauma there that eventually lead to him repressing all those memories until his return to Iwatodai. Over the year, they gradually become clearer.
Yuriko's Arcana would've been the Priestess. Daichi's would be the Hierophant.
Shiro and Ayame Shiomi
Kotone's parents because we are not killing everyone here. Someone has to stay alive. Someone in SEES needs good alive parents who accidentally adopt the rest of the team after meeting them. Literally in Minato's case, as they become his guardians following Yuriko's and Daichi's deaths.
Ayame is Yuriko's and Tsubaki's older sister, and she is close to the both of them. Needless to say, Yuriko's death hits her HARD.
Shiro is a stay-at-home dad while Ayame is a nurse. It was actually because of her profession that they meet in the first place. Shiro used to get into a lot of fights when he was younger, resulting in his body being littered with scars. They are primarily on his hands, and especially heavy on the knuckles.
Shiro and Ayame are very protective of their kids, Shiro more than his wife. It gets to the point where he wants Minato and Kotone to stay away from people like his younger self (constantly looking for a fight and a bit of a delinquent). Unfortunately for him, the Shiomi women have a Type and it's that.
Shiro's Arcana is the Chariot. Ayame's is the Hanged Man.
Miyako and Kuro Mochizuki
I have a love-hate relationship with these two because for plot purposes, I had to turn Nyx and Erebus's characters into actual people. SO WE ACTUALLY DO HAVE SHITTY PARENTS ON THIS LIST.
Anyway, Miyako and Kuro are Ryoji's parents for this AU since he's not a Shadow in this. He was born human. Well, a witch but that's specifics.
Miyako works as Gekkoukan's school nurse, while Kuro is a member of Iwatodai's police force.
They are both flipping crazy - Miyako more so than her husband. He's just along for the ride and often lets his wife do what she pleases, even if it hurts their son. Which it often does. He lives in the dorms for this reason.
When I say Miyako is crazy, I mean it. She constantly threatens to expose magic to the world, believes humans are beneath her, etc. Since her character is built off of the game's Nyx, she also tries to bring about the Fall by any means necessary-- including using her own child as a vessel for Death, something that could very well have killed him. She knew this and did it anyway.
Prior to being the school's nurse, Miyako worked as a researcher in the Ergo Labs. This is how she got her hands on the Shadows and was able to do what she needed to. She is also the one who created Tartarus, or the Midnight Tower (it has no official name in the AU unlike in canon).
She ends up losing herself in a pursuit of power. Miyako is fucking insane, and she falls and hits the ground hard when is defeated. Kuro ends up getting arrested when it's revealed he knew about all of this and aided his wife by covering up her crimes.
So yeah, fuck these two.
Due to the inspiration for these two, it shouldn't be surprising that Miyako's Arcana is Death and Kuro's is the Fool.
Shin and Tomiko Narukami
A freelance photographer and his journalist wife. These two are obviously Yu's parents who try their best despite how busy they often can be. Sometimes that's not enough, though.
You look at them and think that because of their work, Shin is more adventurous and outgoing while Tomiko is bookish and quiet. No, it's the opposite. Tomiko primarily stands out and "wears the pants" so to speak. Shin is quiet and content to work behind the scenes. Think of it as an actor and their stage crew.
Yu is closer to his father than he is his mother, though he shares her sense of humor.
Shin was Tomiko's upperclassmen in high school. That's how they met -- she was having trouble in her classes and he helped her study. They stayed in contact after.
AU-wise, they served as informants for the Shiroganes prior to the latter's deaths. This leads to Yu and Naoto briefly being friends as kids, though by the time they meet again they can barely remember each other and have to be reminded (Yu by his mother and Naoto by their grandfather).
Speaking of which, Shin and Tomiko are busy. A lot. Their work keeps them on their toes, especially considering that they are often responsible for covering up more magical incidents for the public's eye. This is why Yu has rarely met his uncle prior to P4's events. There were no time for visits anymore. Yu didn't even know Nanako existed until he met her.
Shin and Tomiko are often involved with the high class social circles as a part of their work. Yu was often brought along to a few events when he got older. It leads to the reason about why Yu... suppresses a lot prior to coming to Inaba. Especially after one incident.
Yu had a lot of trouble controlling his abilities when he was younger. He was also not very socialbe, leading to a problem when he was in crowds. Needless to say, the incident involves him getting overwhelmed in public, emotions taking over and losing control of his abilities. It caused a lot of problems and more work for his parents, leading him to suppress how he was truly feeling (and eventually thinking) to keep that from happening again. He did what he could to take care of himself and stop doing what he thought caused nothing but problems. Which if you played P4, you realize is a bad thing. He was about ten years old when this all happened.
Neither of his parents noticed what was going on until it was too late, and weren't sure what to do. It was by luck that their son was able to make good friends who helped his true self shine through again.
After being away a year and all the stuff that happened back home (especially after the shit in November and December), they try to do better and be more involved family-wise.
Shin's Arcana is the Hermit, while Tomiko's is the Sun.
Tsubaki Amamiya and ???
I have thought about this one a LOT and that's mostly because of the implications that P5 gives us. Ren goes through a lot of tough shit; he deserves something good in his life. At least a little bit.
Tsubaki is the youngest of the three sisters (Ayame and Yuriko) and grew up close to them, despite the large age gap between them. Her sisters were also the only ones in the family who spoke her after she found out she was expecting.
Long story short, Tsubaki had Ren really young. Both she and her S/O (Ren's father) had gotten smashed one night, which resulted in not thinking before acting. Tsu was nineteen, and he was twenty.
Her parents disowned her because of this. Tsu was pretty much on her own. Luckily she had her sisters (for the most part, Yuriko was killed about a month before Ren was born) and a few good friends to help out. Ren's father had no idea about Ren until AFTER he had been born due to plot shenanigans happening behind the scenes. But still, Ren was born to two loving parents.
Like I said, Ren's parents were pretty young when he was born so family helped but eventually the pair moved to Inaba where Tsubaki became a teacher at Yasogami. She's that teacher that goes the extra mile for her students.
Honestly, Tsu cares about her students and her kid and are willing to fight for them. She doesn't take shit, especially after her own parents kicked her out. She won't stand for those who think they are above others and isn't afraid to knock them down to size. ...I think you can see where Ren got his own sense of justice from. She works hard to support her family, take care of her students and son. If she had one, Tsubaki's Arcana would be Temperance.
About his father, I have yet to figure out what he does for a living but I do know that due to his job, he does tend to travel around. As a result, he is sometimes absent from Ren's life. Growing up, Ren got used to this, despite how much he hated it. He wanted his dad to be there, but as a kid there was nothing that he really could do. This was how it was. He had his mom, and she made up for it. And that was fine.
His father's lack of presence, however, does cause one big issue with Ren's relationship with him further down the line. More specifically when Ren gets arrested. Because while Tsubaki believes in Ren's innocence, his father does not. Especially considering the circumstances surrounding it.
The whole situation causes a rift between Ren and his parents. Ren's afraid his mother hates him because of what happened (which he had explained was an accident, and Tsu believes him, but Ren had caused a lot of trouble and things might've gotten worse because of him). It's only because the other Phantom Thieves (primarily Ryuji, who had been in a similar situation before) that pushed him to actually talk about it with his mom following the events of the Madarame/Museum of Vanity arc and just before the Kaneshiro stuff.
So the rift is on the mend. And the stuff with his father is even slower. It takes until Strikers for them to have a heart-to-heart with each other and fully discuss their problems. It's during the first trip to Kyoto, and there's some ugly crying. I have a good bit planned here. (And something that's partial self-fulfillment, but we're not talking about that.)
And yes, there is a reason I haven't mentioned the name of Ren’s father. The reason for that is that he's already a named character from one of the previous Persona games. This is part of effort to try and connect P1/P2 to the modern games. You're welcome to guess who it is, but I won't reveal it until later. The post will be edited, however, once said reveal is made.
All I'll say is that his father's Arcana is The Emperor and let you guys figure it out from there.
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hopelikethemoon · 4 years
Text
Soul || (Ezra x Reader) || Moonbeams
Title: Soul Rating: PG-13 Length: 4,300 Warnings: Mild angst  Notes: Why am I always so nervous to post every chapter? Part nine of the Moonbeams series.
Taglist: @princessbatears @djarin-junk @absurdthirst @hdlynn @legally-a-bastard @opheliaelysia @heather-lynn @sabinemorans @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @pedrospunk @maybege @chews-erotically @katlikeme @lose-eels @youmeanmybrain @theindiealto @irishleesh93 @seawhisperer @hdlynn @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @theindiealto @grapemama @roxypeanut @kochamcie @kiwi-the-first @hellomothermoon @soft-fanfics @spacegayofficial @storiesofthefandomloversreblogs @kindablackenedsuperhero @goblinqueen95 @nominalnebula @wheresthewater​ @letmybabysleep @hayley-the-comet​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @i-ship-it-ironically​ Hopefully I got everyone! Please message me to be added, comments to be added get lost in my activity. 
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Ezra idly slid his fingers in between yours, his chest a firm presence at your back as he molded his body around yours. He had barely left your side since you came back from your brush with the guardians. 
“What was it like?”
“Hmm?” You questioned, tilting your head to look back at him. 
“Death.”
“Oh.” You frowned as you considered his question, watching your fingers as he played with them. “Cold and then warm.”
“Warm?” Ezra pressed his lips to the back of your shoulder. 
You exhaled slowly, searching for the right words to explain all of it to him. “It was cold and dark and then there were… stars. Falling all around me.”
He hummed softly against your shoulder, “That’s unexpected.”
“And I don’t know if that was even what death was. I can’t remember which came first. If the nothingness was before I woke up… or after.” You stretched your legs out before rolling over to face him. “Do you believe me?”
Ezra’s dark eyes searched yours for a moment before answering, “I believe that it is possible that you died and were revived. I can’t deny the potential, given my own curse.”
You reached out to trace your thumb over the curved scar on his cheek. “I should go back to the Block for the next full moon. I know I’m safe with you, but I also know that Shiva is likely losing their mind with my absence.”
He chuckled, “Do you think Shiva will believe you?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” You shrugged, “They’ll probably force me to see a medic. Check me for concussions.” You turned your palm over to look at the healing cut. “I’ve just got a self-inflicted stab wound and a handful of someone’s fingerprints.”
Ezra scratched at the back of his ear, “I have recently found that it is impossible to be overzealous when it comes to you-almost-died sex.” 
“I think it’s more oh-shit-you-died sex.” You corrected, tapping your finger against his nose.
He caught your hand and rubbed his thumb gently over the spot just above your healing palm. “Touché.” 
“Why do you do that?”
“Hmm?” Ezra’s brows knit together.
“I just remembered that when I was lost in the darkness, I recalled the way you rubbed my palm.” 
“Ah.” He smiled fondly at you, “When I was wee lad, I used to be frightfully afraid when we’d leave orbit.” Ezra explained. “My mother used to take my hand like so,” He took hold of your hand. “And rub her thumb over the center of my palm to remind me that she wasn’t going anywhere.”
You smiled at him, “I like that.” 
He cocked his head to the side, “I like you.” 
“Read to me.” You murmured as you leaned in to kiss him. 
“And force me from my comfortable position?” Ezra huffed dramatically, even as he drew back the covers and moved to get out of the bed. 
You tucked your arm beneath your head and watched the muscles in his back move with him, as he went to look over your stack of books. 
“I’ll bring back more honeysticks.” You told him, “And perhaps track down the nonpareils you mentioned.”
“You feed into my sweet tooth,” He taunted, looking back at you. “When the sweetest thing of all is laying tangled up in our sheets.” 
“Our sheets?” You gave him a look. “I do believe I bargained these sheets out of a vendor on Phthalcol.” 
Ezra smirked, looking back at the books once more. He snatched one up and flipped through the pages. “Is that so?” 
“So smug.” You rolled your eyes. “I let you sleep in my bed for a handful of nights and now it’s our bed?”
“Aren’t our ships connected now?” He questioned, not looking back at you yet. 
“In theory.”
“Ah-ha!” Ezra licked his thumb before turning the page, reading it as he turned back towards you. “I knew I recalled seeing Herrick in this collection. An often forgotten fellow, you know.”
“I don’t know if I’m well versed in him.” 
“He was rather fond of the Greek poet Anacreon.” Ezra informed you, giving you an expectant look. 
“Wine, women, and…” You racked your brain for the third attribute. 
“Song.” 
“Are you going to sing now?”
Ezra rolled his eyes, “Though poetry could be song, in theory.” He shrugged his shoulders, “He was a hit of a religious poet too, back when society was limited in their dieistic notions.” 
“What have you picked to read?”
He stared at you for a long moment before clearing his throat and focusing on the page. “How love came in, I do not know, whether by th’ eye, or eare, or no. Or whether with the soule it came, at first, infused with the same. Whether in part ‘tis here or there, or, like the soule, whole everywhere. This troubles me, but as I well as any other, this can tell. That when from hence she does depart, the outlet then is from the heart.” 
“Herrick certainly knew what he was talking about,” You said gently as you smiled back at Ezra. “I’m glad we said it, more or less, before everything happened.” You told him as you sat up, picking at the edge of your blanket. “It wasn’t said because something happened.” 
Ezra nodded slowly, shutting the book closed as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “Have you ever been in love before?”
“If you ask Shiva, I’m always falling in love.” You told him, lifting your gaze a little. “But twice. I think. It wasn’t like this.” You gestured between the two of you. 
“I always avoided it,” Ezra admitted quietly, reaching out to brush his fingers down your bare arm. “Skirted close, but never too close. These past five years made me realize how much I missed out on — thinking only of myself.” 
“Being open isn’t worth it,” You told him, shaking your head. “You usually get burnt. Bad.” 
“I’m assuming you’re referring to Mars and Alia?” 
“I don’t even want to get into Alia, but…” You pursed yourself lips. “Mars was very charming. Very charming.” You kept your eyes on the blanket beneath your fingers. “I fell headfirst into that dreamboat.” You snorted. “Lots of pretty words that amounted to — ‘you have a sweet connection with the head of Fiorta Corp. and that’s all this was about.’ Asshole.” 
“I’m sorry.” Ezra kept skimming his fingers over your arm. 
“Fortunately, I found out before I could’ve been foolish enough to get myself trapped into becoming his third wife. One and two actually warned me about his plans.” 
He hummed curiously, “It sounds like you were leading quite the adventurous life.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Are you sure you want to tie yourself to me?”
“Too late.” You reached out and tousled your fingers through his hair. “I much prefer this arrangement. For so many reasons.”
“Inquiring minds would like to know.” Ezra drawled out lazily as he reclined back on the bed. 
“Fishing for compliments?” You grinned as you settled back against him. 
He rested his chin in your shoulder, winding his arms around your middle. “Always.” 
You traced your fingertips over the back of his hand, sliding your fingers in between his. “I feel like it has to mean something that it didn’t work. They were able to wipe Sybil and Cora from Proctor’s mind, but.. they couldn’t pull you out of me.” 
Ezra fanned his fingers out on your stomach, before skimming upwards to rest at the curve of your ribs. “It certainly begs the question of why.” He nuzzled at the crook of your neck. “Is that the only reason?”
You snorted, reaching back to tug at his hair. “There’s also the fact that you’re handsome, smart, and humorous. But if we’re being honest, it was the books.” 
“I figured.” He chuckled, his breath warm against your shoulder. “I meant what I said, moonbeam. I’m not letting you go.” 
“I would be disappointed if you did.”
Ezra pressed another kiss to your skin. “I know at first I tried to convince you to leave, but I’m glad you chose to ignore me.”
“I’m stubborn by default.” You tilted your face towards him with a cheeky grin. 
His lips parted to say something, but a sudden bang at your transport door made you jump. 
“What the fuck?” You questioned, climbing out of his lap to find your clothes. 
“Stay here.” Ezra growled, his entire body going rigid as he snatched up his shirt and pulled it on over his head. 
Someone knocked — again. 
“Lock the door. Don’t open it.” He told you, turning to face you as you followed him towards the threshold. 
You reached out and grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumb over the center of his palm as you held his gaze. “Please be safe.”
They knocked again. 
Ezra leaned in and kissed you, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You whispered, swallowing thickly as he pulled away from you. You watched him as he walked backwards towards the knocking. 
You hit the button on the wall, the door sliding closed and locking shut. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you pressed yourself against the cool durasteel and tried to listen through it. It was muffled and almost impossible to hear — but the knocking stopped. 
And everything fell silent.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. The faded memory of the guardians still loomed over your thoughts. The man had reminded you of a statue — chiseled features and sharp eyes. Towering over you like a deadly beast in a man’s form. 
If they were the first creatures on Lykaios, there was no knowing what skill they had beyond Ezra’s abilities. 
You could barely hear the muffled sound of Ezra’s voice on the other side of the door, alongside a pair of voices that didn’t bode well for either of you. 
There was a shuffle of feet against durasteel, the whirr of the exterior shutting close, a slightly raised voice, and movement drawing closer to you. 
You had nowhere to go. 
“Moonbeam,” Ezra called out through the door. “It’s safe. Open the door. Your friends have made an appearance.” 
You pressed the release button on the wall, watching as the door unlocked and slid into the threshold. On the other side stood Ezra, flanked by Shiva and Quinn. 
“What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” Shiva shot back as they stepped forward to grab you. “I thought you were dead.” 
You wrapped your arms around them, looking over their shoulder at Ezra who was sizing himself up against Quinn. Quinn had a few inches on him and it was entertaining to see him try to make himself seem more imposing. 
“A lot has happened,” You told Shiva as you pulled back. “I didn’t make it back this time. Sorry for worrying you.”
“You even got me nervous,” Quinn remarked, looking between you and Ezra. “Is he always so bristly?” 
Your eyes flickered towards Ezra, when you heard him growl. “Hey. No.” You glared at Quinn. “Knock it off.” 
“Are you going to officially introduce us?” Shiva questioned as they took a step back, giving you a cheeky grin as they looked towards Ezra. “He just leered at us and told us we smelt like humans.” 
“Jury’s out on this one.” Ezra huffed, looking at Quinn briefly before stepping through the threshold and circling towards you. You didn’t need him to say he was uncomfortable — it was perfectly clear by the way his back was rigid and his jaw was set hard.
“Ezra, this is Shiva.” You said, trailing your fingers down the back of his arm gently as you gestured towards Shiva. “You’ve already heard all of my stories about my stalwart friend.” 
Shiva shook his hand with an arched brow, “I’ve heard plenty about you too.” They gave him a sweeping once over. “Trying to steal our girl.” 
You rolled your eyes, “And this is Quinn.”
Quinn offered his hand, but Ezra refused to shake it in return. “I don’t like this any more than you do.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Ezra huffed, reaching down to take your hand into his, interlacing his fingers with yours. 
“Why don’t we take this conversation out of our quarters.” You said, shooing them out of the room. 
“Our?” Shiva arched a brow at you, before starting ahead down the corridor with Quinn. 
Ezra tugged you to a stop, “Moonbeam.” 
You turned back towards him, “I know this is difficult for you.” You reached out and brushed your fingers over his cheek. 
He hung his head and gave a slight nod. “I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to be the most hospitable of guests. Particularly where he is involved.” Ezra sighed heavily, “Their arrival was unexpected, to say the least.”
You glanced down the corridor where you could hear the two of them laughing about something Shiva had said. “I didn’t even think that they would come here if I didn’t turn up.” You admitted, “I probably should’ve seen that coming, but it slipped my mind.”
Ezra touched your chin, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “I think that’s understandable. And they clearly care for you and your well-being.” He held your gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Your brows furrowed as you searched his eyes. 
“My rabid jealousy.” Ezra’s eyes darted down the corridor. “I recognize it’s foolish.” 
You leaned in and kissed him, letting your lips linger there. “It’s okay, Ezra.” You brushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “Just don’t try to kill him.”
“Tempting.” 
“Are you two coming to join us?” Quinn called out. “Or was that a ploy to get a little alone time?”
“We’ll be right there.” You called back, smiling at Ezra. “You’re better at being sociable than you think. You were a perfect gentleman with Sybil and Cora.”
“Entirely different scenario.” He pointed out. “Neither of them desired you.” 
You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “Point taken.” 
Ezra stole another kiss, before taking ahold of your hand and starting back down the corridor towards the living area. 
Quinn was sprawled out on the makeshift sofa, tossing a stress ball into the air above him. “Do you think he likes fetc— Hello.” He jerked upright into a seated position. 
Shiva stifled a laugh. “Good job, Quinn.” They looked back towards Ezra. “I’ve always thought he’d go down greasy. He’s not worth eating.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Ezra smirked, before gesturing for Quinn to get off the sofa who was quick to follow suit. 
“I had every intention of coming back to the Block, but things got out of hand here.” You explained as you settled onto the sofa beside Ezra. “Really out of hand.”
“Well, now you’re going to have to tell us.” Shiva gave you an expectant look. “I won’t judge you if you got distracted.”
“I wish it were that simple.” You picked a bit of dirt out of your thumbnail as you kept your eyes lowered to your lap. “It’s actually rather convoluted.” 
Ezra ran his hand down the length of your spine reassuringly. 
You rubbed your lips together, chewing at the inside of your bottom lip as you looked up at Shiva. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this one,” You said, “Lykaios has more secrets than we were aware of. Before the full moon, I was taken by the… I guess we’ll call them the Guardians. They were the first here on Lykaios, allegedly.”
Quinn cleared his throat, “If I may interject.” 
Ezra worked his jaw slowly as he glared at Quinn. “Do you know something?”
He nodded, “Shiva and I continued to do research after you left. Everything’s in my shuttle and you’re both welcome to it.” He leaned back against the wall, holding his arms across his chest. “There were three, I believe. Callisto, Dia, and Psophis. Arcadia has rivers named for each of them.”
You cocked your head to the side, “I encountered Callisto and Dio.” 
“Hmm.” Quinn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The rivers were named for the children of an old god. Descendants of the nymphs of the sea, so they say.” 
“I see you’re clever,” Ezra remarked with an edge of annoyance. 
Quinn shrugged, “Yes, well… the common denominator between us happens to surround herself with clever friends.”
“I can’t deny that,” You leaned into Ezra’s side. “That’s more than we knew before, so thank you for that.” You offered Quinn a small smile. “They are apparently the originators of the curse and… they tried to get rid of me the same way they got rid of Proctor.”
“Which is?” Shiva questioned. 
“They killed me and attempted to wipe my memories of Ezra. They didn’t succeed, clearly.”
“Back up, they killed you?” They leaned forward. “You should see a medic. You can’t just stay here when you could have something seriously wrong with you.”
“I told you.” You glanced sideways at Ezra. “Look, Shiva… I’m okay. I’ll see the medic when I go back to the Block in a few days.” 
“How do you know you died?” Quinn asked skeptically. 
“I just know.” You said sharply. “I know how I felt and what I saw.”
“She smells different, too.” Ezra offered, shifting beside you. “I can’t put my finger on what’s changed, but she smells like more.”
“You weren’t kidding about the smelling thing, were you?” Shiva laughed, shaking their head. “I definitely wasn’t expecting to find out that you died while you were away.”
Quinn snorted, “You were convinced she was dead.” 
“Only because she didn’t show up.”
“It’s been a blur,” You admitted. “We only had a few days between my kidnapping and the full moon and with how my mind was at the time…”
Ezra cut in, “We thought it was best that she stay here. Just in case whatever they did wasn’t fully out of her system.” 
Quinn frowned, “What do you mean how your mind was?”
“Is, really. Things are still spotty.” You gave an awkward laugh at that. “I would forget things. I’m still not entirely certain of things that happened that first month here.” 
“You remember Ay-7?”
“Quinn.” Shiva snapped and Ezra’s hand tightened at your waist instinctively. 
“Really?”
Quinn held up his hands in mock defense. “Just checking on where we stand.” 
You glared at him. “Not good.”
He snapped his fingers and nodded, “I figured.” 
Shiva rose from their seat, moving to sit on the cargo crate in front of the sofa, “I came with Quinn, so if you want a co-pilot back to the Block you’ve got me.”
“I might actually take you up on that.” You smiled, reaching out to give their shoulder a squeeze. “With everything you told me about people losing their minds when they leave Lykaois I’ve been nervous about leaving.” 
“Just,” Ezra started, his voice wavering a little. “Send her back to me.” 
Shiva tilted their head to the side as they looked at him then, “As long as you agree to send her back to me from time-to-time.” 
“There’s enough of me to go around,” You assured both of them, before holding up a hand to keep Quinn from commenting. “Not enough for you though.”
“You wound me.” Quinn shot back with a wicked smirk. “There used to be more than enough for me.”
Ezra leaned forward on the sofa and Quinn shuffled an inch further away from the three of you. “That’s what I thought.” 
“There’s too much testosterone in here.” You muttered and Shiva started laughing. 
“I think there’s too much Quinn here.” 
He scoffed, “You’re the one who dragged me along for the ride.”
“Because your shuttle’s fast.” Shiva rolled their eyes. “Don’t act like you weren’t worried for her.” 
“I’ll own up to that.” Quinn shrugged. 
“So, what other information did you find out about the moon?” 
He clicked his tongue against his teeth, “I put a few feelers out. Expressed some interest in launching my own mining team into Lykaois. Got a few bites, but they didn’t fully materialize before we disembarked.” 
“What exactly do you deal in?” Ezra questioned with a slight edge to his tone.
“What do you need me to deal in?” Quinn retorted. “I’m a man of many skills. Our dear friend is aware of that.” 
Ezra exhaled slowly through his nose, “I’m assuming if you call Ay-7 home, you’re not dealing in legal ventures?”
Quinn gave a short laugh, “You’re forgetting that I’ve seen your files. Quite the body count.” 
“Was I casting aspersions?” He countered, keeping his eyes fixed on Quinn. “Was I?” He looked towards you then. 
“It was definitely implied.” You smiled a little, nudging him in the ribs. “Quinn’s a bit of a jack-of-all-trades. His latest venture was a dust enterprise he ran into the ground. Before that he used to run fake licenses business for those that washed out of the program.”
“Some company you keep.” Ezra smirked, with a teasing tone. “Useful though.”
Quint puffed himself up, “I can be very useful.” 
“Quit peacocking.” Shiva warned him, before grabbing their satchel up off the floor. “I forgot to mention I brought goodies. I figured if you’d missed coming back to the Block, you’d need supplies.” 
You scooted forward to the edge of the sofa to peer into their bag, “Are those honeysticks?”
Shiva grinned, “I figured you’d need your magic beast taming treats.” 
“Hilarious,” Ezra remarked wryly, holding his hand out for one. 
Shiva popped the box open and passed him one of the sticks. “I don’t get the appeal, but I respect it.” 
He tore off the end of the stick and sucked at it as he sank back against the sofa. “I believe they call it creature comforts.” Ezra stated.
“What else did you bring?” You questioned, grabbing the satchel away from them. “You were so worried about my well-being that you stopped by the bakery for fruli pies?” 
“I can be magnanimous when I feel like it.” Shiva retorted, watching as you turned towards Ezra to show him the mini pies you loved. “I figured I should satisfy both of your sweet tooth needs.” 
“What are they?” Ezra questioned, examining them curiously. “Are those berries?”
You nodded, “A sweet flaky pastry with a berry concoction in the middle. They keep for weeks.” 
“She’s always been fond of stocking up and hiding them around the transport before long missions.” Shiva pointed out. 
“Only because I’ll eat them all day one if I don’t.” You laughed, popping the package open to grab one. You took a bite with a satisfied moan, before passing it to Ezra. “Here.”
He took the bite from your fingers, chewing it thoughtfully before smirking, “I see why they need to be hidden around the ship.”
“Right?” You grinned. “We eat a lot of berries that grow here. There’s even some decent ones that are winter berries.”
“I haven’t been venturing out,” Ezra admitted. “So we’ve leaned on her ready-to-eat meals.”
“Cardboard and iron.” You scrunched up your nose. “I was going to bring more when I come back after the next full moon.”
“Are you not leaving the ship?” Quinn questioned.
“I don’t want to risk her being found again.” Ezra stated. “We were careful about coming back from my transport. There’s a chance the guardians will try to hurt her again.”
You snapped your fingers and shot finger guns at Ezra, “Not looking to die again this soon.”
Quinn frowned, “So you really died?” 
“It was a whole ordeal.” You licked some of the berry juice off your thumb. “But I’m okay now. I think.”
“Please let the medic check you over.” He said gently. “That can’t be good for you. I am worried about you… as a friend.”
You rolled your eyes, “As long as we’re clear on that.” You looked back to Shiva then. “What else did you bring?”
“Well, I was picturing you chewed up and spit out by a beast, so I brought you new clothes.”
“I’ll take those anyways.” You took the clothes from them. “I appreciate how committed you were to rescuing me.” 
They shrugged, “At rare times I’ve found I can be a good friend. Just consider all of this added on to what you owe me for cheating me out of this haul.” 
“Figures.” You snorted.
“Not to run you off so soon,” Ezra started with a polite tone. “But depending on where your transport is parked, you should start back before nightfall.” 
You nodded, “It’s not safe to be out there right now. We still don’t know what the guardians—“
Shiva laughed, “You just want to get back to whatever we interrupted. I saw what a mess your bed was.”
“This is so much worse than I imagined.” You grumbled, covering your face. “In all sincerity, this is out of concern. After what they did to me, I don’t want either of you dealing with it.” 
Quinn pushed off the wall, “I don’t want anyone rearranging my head.” He clapped his hands together, “Come on Shiva, let’s get out of the lover bird’s hair. I’m sure you’ll get all the gossip when you head back to the Block.” 
“Come by in the morning.” You smiled at them. 
“Not too early.” Ezra tacked on. “I like my sleep.” 
Shiva winked at him, before turning towards Quinn. “Let’s get out of here.” 
You lingered in the living area as Ezra saw them out of the transport. Shiva had left their bag behind, filled with a handful of other goodies they had brought for you. Everything you would’ve needed if something had gone wrong. 
Despite how often the two of you were at each other’s necks, at least they were your one true friend. Through thick and thin… and falling in love with a werewolf. They stood by you. 
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not-oscar-wilde · 3 years
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I know I’m by no means the only person to do this but here are some of my theories for the sparrow kids powers, based on the descriptions we’ve got of them and also the ways in which they serve as foils for the umbrella kids bc I’m a sucker for that
marcus:
grows (and therefore shrinks too) like ant man - hence the “colossus” thing.
impenetrable skin and strength associated with that - “chiselled colossus” - although I feel like that’s too similar to luther’s power so I would prefer the former to be his main thing.
as luther’s body was transformed against his will, having marcus transform his body deliberately and have his power come from that transformation would be v interesting.
ben:
we already know ben’s got his bentacles, but the bentacles are smart and part of the “scheming tactician wrapped in a pretty boy body” thing - I think he’s somehow learned to communicate with them.
as number two now, it feels like sparrow ben should be diego’s foil but as of yet I don’t see how, other than the fact ‘the kraken’ has always been an odd name for diego when octopus boy is right here. much to think about.
fei:
clairvoyant - she “sees the world in a special way” and is “typically the smartest person in the room” bc she knows what’s going to happen. however, since I like clairvoyant klaus headcanons a lot, I’m leaning more towards option two:
mind-reading - again her “see[ing] the world in a special way” and being “the smartest person in the room” comes from having access to people’s thoughts.
or some kind of funky extra perception.
whichever it is, allison’s mind power acts outwards while I’m predicting fei’s acts inwards; that is to say that allison gets in other people’s minds but fei brings things into her mind.
alphonso:
apparently there is a voodoo sparrow in the comics and I 100% believe that this is alphonso here - he “bears his scars from years of crime fighting” because he is a human voodoo doll.
this also makes him a fun and funky foil for klaus, who presents himself as a human ouija board with his tattoos.
sloane:
I have SEVERAL ideas for sloane bc I can see multiple potential powers in her description.
the first is flight - she’s “tied down” but has “lofty plans”, plus the whole sparrow thing has some flight imagery and I believe at least one comic sparrow flies.
perception manipulation - basically like causing hallucinations and delusions. she’s “a dreamer” and I wonder if that has something to do with her power, meaning she can make dreams feel like reality or her power is in some way linked to imagination.
mind control - this one is very adhd brain and quite unlikely but stay with me here. I don’t know how many of you read skulduggery pleasant as a child but I sure did and there’s a character in it called china sorrows, whose mind control is based on people falling in love with her. as sloane is “a romantic” and “a dreamer”, I can imagine her with the power to make people believe they’re in love with her (thus severing their allegiance to anyone or anything else for her).
the fact she’s “eager to experience a life beyond her upbringing” makes me think she doesn’t like to use her powers much - a direct opposite to five, who uses them more than any of the umbrella kids.
jayme:
girl’s a werewolf, or wolf shifter of some sort. her “fear-inducing snarl” and “loner” (lone wolf?) descriptions give me big wolf vibes. the “sharp” description also helps, even though they said “as a knife” I’m still thinking claws and teeth.
umbrella ben contains an interior monster, jayme’s monster is an exterior with her inside.
christopher:
we have his power confirmed as telekinesis, “can turn the room freezing cold and induce paralysing fear” so I’m not going to power speculate for him here.
as for how he relates to vanya, the precise fact that he is “treated as just another sibling” despite the fact he is a cube while vanya was excluded for her supposed ordinary nature is an obvious and interesting reversal
of course, I could very well be totally wrong in ever single one of these and I’m honestly not wedded to any one idea to the extent that I’d be disappointed if I’m wrong. this is just for fun and speculation and I like hearing other people’s ideas too!
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tiefworks · 3 years
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#OCtober 2021 - Week 3: The Misfits
↳ Day 4: Iggy and Jasper
Today we have Iggy and Jasper!
Iggy is the resident Disaster Gay, who prefers to spend his time imbibing in weed and watching TV, but has a heart of gold.
Jasper is the resident Closeted Bi, and the youngest adult of the Misfits. He is obsessed with science, violin, and Cheetos.
LOTS of goodies under the cut!
Iggy stands 5'11", though his permanent slouch tends to make him look a little smaller. He has ivory skin and long, shaggy, and somewhat matted hair that is naturally brown but has been bleached and dyed a pastel pink. He has a button nose and unkempt facial hair/eyebrows, and pale hazel-gray eyes. He has an uncomfortably thin and bony body, with sticklike limbs and visible ribs and hips. Notably, he has dainty feet. He also has a tiny heart-shaped birthmark on the back of his neck. Iggy was also born intersex, a subject he tends to dismiss or avoid discussing. Iggy is a chill, friendly, and affectionate man who sticks incredibly close to his friends. He tends to not take things seriously and jokes around even during serious times. He views tragedy and conflict as things to be avoided at all costs, and uses a number of coping mechanisms, mostly unhealthy, to try and maintain levity in his life. This is largely a shield against his inner insecurities and depressions, particularly towards himself.
Jasper Lee, born Li Jianyu (last name -> first name), is half-Chinese and half-Scottish. He's only 5'0" and has stringy black hair, pallid skin with acne scars, and is slightly overweight. He wears big thick glasses, an oversized hoodie, sweatpants, and sneakers. He frequently finds himself injured, hence why his face and hands/fingers are often covered in bandages. Despite his abrasive nature, he is incredibly smart and studious, and has an immense passion for biochemistry. His father, Keith, was also Avery's father, meaning the two are half brothers - Keith cheated on Avery's mom with Jasper's mother. Obviously not really wanting or caring for a child, she was usually too busy with her fashion line to properly take care of him, and every single moment the two spent together was her berating him for his weight, his teeth, his acne, etc, and grilling him to be better in his schoolwork and violin. After his expulsion from college due to a nervous breakdown, his mother phoned him once to let him know he was a massive disappointment and said she would never see him again, leaving him abandoned, alone, in Canada with nothing but his suitcase and some meager savings. Thankfully, he found the rest of the Misfits, who took him in.
Trivia:
Iggy loves chips and s'mores and takeout. The only thing he is capable of cooking without destroying the kitchen is his signature mac n cheese bomb, which is made with Kraft macaroni and powdered cheese, cream cheese, american cheese, shredded cheddar, mayonnaise, and ketchup. He is the only one who can eat this without throwing up, too.
Iggy's 'stage name', Iggy Nova, is a subtle reference to David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust.
He works at a fictional version of Wendy's called Mandy's. He has been there long enough that he's become jaded to customers, often snarking or snapping back at them. His managers don't care enough to fire him.
When standing still, Iggy has duck feet (his toes point towards each other).
Jas lives on a steady diet of Cheetos. If anyone wants a share they'd better buy their own bag and hide it before Jasper finds it. He also likes moon cakes.
Jas is a prolific violin player. He finds great solace in playing, despite how much of a stickler his mother was for him practicing and how she berated him constantly for not being good enough. He finds the act of playing very therapeutic.
Jasper is actually underage at the beginning of the story (17). His birthday is Oct 20th and his 18th takes place during the story.
Jasper's name is his chosen Anglicized name to distance himself from his family.
Note: some content relating to these two was cut due to its triggering nature, but if you're interested, DM me to hear me ramble about them some more!
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Her Own
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My Masterlist  
Pairing: Past Ivar/Freydis, but this is about her
Summary: What if Freydis didn’t confront Ivar in 5x20? What if she made a different choice, after letting them past the walls? What if she lived?
(I wanted to write a fix-it for her ending, I wanted her to have a chance at happiness, that’s about it.)
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Passing mentions of death and violence, quite a focus on Baldur’s remains, angst.
A/N: My entry for @maggiescarborough​’s International Women’s Day Challenge (I’m sorry it’s 2k bby, you know by now I can’t write short pieces lmao). So, I like Freydis, even though I always change a bit (a lot) of her when I write her. She loved that baby, and (if she was honest, which I like a little less than the alternative) she loved Ivar, she was capable and willing to love despite all she suffered (because even if we aren’t shown it, the woman was a slave presumably her whole life); or (if she was smart enough to lie, which, kudos) she is a smart and cunning woman, and an ambitious and fucking fearless one at that (and I really like women in Vikings that fight and persevere while still playing within their gender role, as a wife, a mother, etc.). And yeah idk, she’s not a role model character by any means, but it is a female character that I was always fascinated by, hence why a work for her is my entry for this challenge.
The poem quoted here is Broken Crown, I couldn’t find the author or any link other than this though, sorry.
There’s a story about a queen who gave up her kingdom for a chance to breathe.
One day, she walked out of court with nothing. Somewhere far, the sky stirred, and the ocean raised itself for a glimpse.
She remembers being chained even though her wrists were free, looking into a man’s eyes and promising him that in his blood ran ichor akin to that of the Gods. She remembers the promise she made.
“I would give my life for you, if you asked me to.” She told him, and she meant every word.
With the wind biting against her face, her cheek still feeling the pulse of a bruise that has long since healed, her skin still wet with the phantom trace of tears that have long since ran out; Freydis walks away.
Kattegat trembles and quivers at her back, and if she were any more naïve, she would tell herself it is the lack of its queen that makes the town mourn, and not the sons of Ragnar that fight to the death -the death of others, the death of slaves and warriors; it is always the death of others that those men offer to the Gods as tribute, Freydis more than anyone knows that- for a throne that she has sat in, and has deemed as ordinary as any other chair.
A part of her wanted to stay, wanted to look Ivar in the eye and watch as he understood he had lost everything, because of her. Just like she had, because of him.
Her arms tighten on the cold and hard wooden box she wrapped in a cloak, and if she closes her eyes she can pretend her Baldur is nuzzled against her breast, just sleeping.
She wanted to stay. She wanted to stay to watch them all burn, she wanted to stay because she never lied to him. Despite everything, she never lied, or, if she did, she doesn’t remember anymore.
Her life was his, that never changed.
But her death, her death is her own.
The war was not barbarous men in broken armor, not limping horses or battle cries. The war sounds like her owl wings beating, quietly frantic, lovely beneath the eastern sky.
But one grows weary of being both assailant and defender.
She opens bleary eyes when she hears footsteps near her. Uselessly, she clutches the box cradling Baldur’s bones a bit closer, and watches with wide eyes as someone approaches.
She wishes she could stand, she wishes she could move. But she feels weak, she feels…tired. It is alright, she gathers.
Her death will be her own, anyways. Even if it is her body giving in on the mossy floor on the outskirts of some unknown city, it is her own. There are not many things she can call her own, not anymore. Her death might just be the last.
But the Gods won’t let her die, it seems, since a woman approaches, the stride of a shieldmaiden.
The woman, a blonde with a deep scar on the side of her face, takes one look at Freydis and calls out for her warriors.
Two shieldmaidens approach, look at her with something that looks like pity. And Freydis wants to bare her teeth, tell them she doesn’t need their pity, she doesn’t need anyone.
The blonde, the leader, takes a step closer. Freydis grits her teeth to keep her body under her control, to keep it from scrambling away like the panic singing in her blood begs her to.
“You are safe,” The woman tells her, voice strangely soft. “You were a thrall, weren’t you?”
“I-I was a-…” A slave, a wife, a queen, a…a mother.
“You are no more,” The shieldmaiden promises, almost as if she can hear her thoughts. “Tell me your name.”
“Freydis.”
“You are safe, Freydis. We won’t hurt you, and…we are going to Ribe, we can take you there.”
“Why would I-…why Ribe?”
The smile the scarred woman shows for that fragile moment seems understanding, seems like a secret. Freydis feels like she either knows or understands more of her story than any other.
“Because it is far from Kattegat.”
They say her shattered dreams rattle inside her lungs.
Freydis cannot help but wonder bitterly where these women were when she needed them most, when she still had a life that belonged to her, when she was alone and so scared she held on to him even if all she had to hold on to was a figure -a life- made of sand.
But they are here now, and they make flavorful but humble broths that they share with comfortable ease, and they offer touches that speak of compassion but not of pity -she is starting to see the difference-, and they have scars of their own that show when they smile or when they laugh.
Weeks after the scarred woman left her in the care of these women, Freydis feels strong enough to stand and walk on her own.
And she makes herself be strong enough to take her son’s bones up the hill.
She puts the cradle -the box, she corrects herself- on the ground, and traces her hand over the lid of it one last time, as gently as she would have stroked his little back.
And when she speaks, she speaks quietly, soothingly, as she would have to lull him to sleep.
“Sweet Baldur, to me...to me you will always be divine,” She promises, slowly grabbing the stones between shaking hands and making up the small grave, “The gift the Gods granted me, something of my very own to have, to love. But…” She swallows thickly, but raises her chin and makes herself admit her pain, her mistakes, “But you see, my son, I was blind, I was lost, and for my arrogance the Gods have punished me. I only wish they could have taken from me anything but you,” She sweeps one last time her hand over the carefully placed stones, smiles past her tears, “I know I will never hear your innocent laugh, or see you take your first steps, or feel you alive against me again, I know. But you will always be with me, you…you will always be my child.”
She will carry him with her, carry him alongside her pain. Pain is the one thing they can’t take away from her. She, better than anyone, knows this.
In dreams, her belly is swollen.
The storm rages and the baby cries in the woman’s hold, even as she rocks him back and forth, as calming and as enveloping as the sea. And Freydis watches, she watches until her eyes burn.
She closes her eyes, and the bed is comfortable and soft underneath her, his hand is warm and gentle.
“How is little Baldur, hm?” He asks, and in that figment of a moment she can give in, and pretend. And she lets herself forget the way the wood of the wooden chair makes her back ache, pretending there is only soft furs underneath her.
She lifts her hand, moves to put it over his on her stomach.
And she lets herself forget the sounds of the storm around her, pretending there is only the crackling of fire.
She opens her eyes, because his hand is not under hers, and her stomach is barren. She still finds him looking back, but it is the coldness and the cruelty, and his mouth curves unnaturally in a grin that boasts that he took everything from her.
Freydis grits her teeth and looks away, a sob, a cry, stuck in her throat as she gasps for air.
The woman looks at her, motherly and comforting in a way no one ever looked at her before, motherly and protective in a way she was never allowed to be. She doesn’t know if she ought to resent her for not being there or envy her for having what she cannot; even though Freydis knows both things would be useless and irrational.
The baby in the woman’s arms coos, and it tugs at Freydis heart, it makes her chest tighten and her very blood ache with an absence that on some days is heavier. Today, since that first day, is the heaviest.
Before Freydis can even give voice to her plea, the woman shuffles closer, a hand on the back of the baby’s head and cautiously extending her arm, offering him to her.
She holds him, brings his little head to her nose, and fights the urge to close her eyes and pretend.
In dreams, she is her own.
“You expect nothing for yourself, but you’ve revealed everything to me.” I have revealed nothing, she wants to scream, you haven’t let me. He continues, “You are all goodness. All truth.”
What makes her heart feel like it is being squeezed tight in his fist is that he looks like he believes what he is saying. She isn’t all goodness and doesn’t want to be, she hasn’t ever told the whole truth.
She wants to yell and scream and demand that he look at her, that he look at her face and see more than the woman he is proud to have made his wife and see the wear all those years of suffering have left etched in the angles and creases; that he look at her body and see more than the vessel for his child and see the scars and the mark of hunger that after months of life as a queen she feels hasn’t left her body.
She wants to be seen, seen as more than fragments of glass put together however he sees fit, seen as more than whatever image of her he sees even when looking directly into her eyes.
But it is better to be wanted like this than to not be wanted at all, she knows that much. And so she smiles, and pretends the tears in her eyes are for him, and tells him what he wants to hear. It wears on her, to see love and feel like she’s seeing it thought the cracks in a wall even when it is looking directly into her eyes, to feel love and see it accepted and embraced as long as she can be what he wants her to.
And in the morning when she wakes in that home that is so less familiar than the one of before, but so much more of a home; she meets the eyes of the people she lives with and grits her teeth when they smile, feels like a wounded bird in a cage when they call her name in greeting.
They don’t know me, she tells herself, rage and grief and something that tastes like the acid of fear swimming in her stomach, they are just like him.
It takes her time to understand that they don’t ask for her story because they don’t want to demand it. For too long she has confused demanding with wanting, need with love; and it takes a while but she realizes that they see the way she flinches and so they don’t gesture so broadly around her, and they see the way she looks at the latest woman that has joined them and they let her hold the baby more often, and they see that she likes sleeping closer to the door and they give her the keys to the home, and...and maybe they see her.
In dreams, she did not ruin herself to be dressed in dying clouds.
Wide blue eyes jump between the dark red and green dress and the woman that holds it with a hopeful smile.
“I thought you’d like it.” Frída tells her.
She wants to spit back accusations, ask her how would she know what Freydis likes if she doesn’t know her, ask her why she is cruel enough to pretend to see her when all she sees is an illusion.
But she always liked the way the dark red and the dark green of certain fabrics shimmer in the low light, she always felt a little more alive, a little more herself, when she wore those colors.
She noticed, her scrambled thoughts scream, she saw me.
And so Freydis extends trembling hands, and barely grazes over the rough but beautiful thread. Her lips quiver into a smile, and she hopes the words that tumble from her mouth, stuttering and hurried, are enough gratitude.
That night, and so many nights after that, Freydis lingers for a while in front of the small and smudged mirror in her room. She looks, she sees.
She never had time to see herself. Before, the days were long and exhausting, and the nights were hopefully quiet, she didn’t have time to linger on fickle things like herself. And after, while the days were softer and the nights warmer, she didn’t like having to reconcile what he saw and what she did so she didn’t try.
She sees the hair that has grown duller since the food has become scarcer and less varied, but she sees the way her eyes are a little bit brighter, brighter than they have ever been. She sees her body is bonier than it used to be before the running, but as the reds and greens play in the folds of her dress, she finds herself more alive than ever.
She is lost and youthful again, denies the wounds in her flesh.
Freydis has learned she was wrong, when she promised those things. He had no right to her life, no right to her death.
Both are her own, and though sometimes she finds herself lingering in a world so long past her that it seems like a dream -or a nightmare-, Freydis finds that there are many things she can call her own.
Her own is the secret smile she and Frída share over dinner as they talk about what is happening in the town, her own is the old and worn green and red dress she will mend until there is nothing but tatters, her own is the pendant hanging from her neck that she was gifted by a man of kind eyes that she hasn’t forgotten.
Her own are her memories, good and bad. Her pain, but also her joy. Her past, but also her future.
Her own is the child that Hídr’s husband brings from a raid, that Freydis insisted would never be a slave, that it would be hers -and free- instead. Her own is the two-year-old girl she names Sigrun and calls her daughter, and loves like her own because she is.
Her own is herself, and all that came after.
Word has spread that her laugh is the sound of a thousand waterfalls.
Before, she twinkled. Now she is ablaze.
She is cracked porcelain leaking out guarded hope.
____ ____ ____
If you caught a not so teeny-tiny cameo by someone who also deserved better than a son of Ragnar, I will love you forever.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked this, I don’t know if it is any good but I enjoyed writing it a whole lot :)
Taglist (I’m tagging those in my ‘all’ taglist, I hope it’s okay): @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @maggiescarborough @chibisgotovalhalla @fae-sedai @zuxiezendler @crazybunnyladysworld   @stupiddarkkside @northumbria @aprilivar​
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benreys-realm · 3 years
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Chapter 5: Confrontation
Before Gordon knew what was happening, he found himself sitting in a pristine looking office. The room was expertly tidy, not a single item out of place. It looked almost like the office of a president or something, spotless, expensive, perfect. It actually made Gordon’s jaw drop a bit, glancing around the room. Even now sitting in that chair, he debated if he should stand, due to the fact that he probably couldn’t afford to replace it even if he got his doctorate, and worked the rest of his life till the day he died. Just for the chair... And the fact about how badly he was SWEATING in it.
There was nervous fidgeting, while the ticking of the clock that hung on the wall in front f him counted the painful seconds that passed. This was SO uncomfortable... The chair behind the massive oak wood desk was turned facing away from him. Presumably, G-Man was sitting in it... Oh god... he messed up so bad... Could they actually... KILL HIM?! That thought got Gordon to panic a bit, and he let out a loud squeak as the chair turned around slowly.
The angry expression that greeted him made him gulp loudly. Oh shit.. that guard was not kidding... For a moment, there is an uncomfortable tension, before G-Man sighs loudly and glances at Gordon sadly. To Gordon’s shock, he.. didn’t look angry... he looked... sad. Remorseful. What... why.. The trains with his thoughts quickly flew off the rails and crashed in a heap of flaming junk at the bottom of a cliff as G-Man spoke.
“Gordon l.... This is incredibly stressful and difficult, I cannot stress this enough. I realize that... BENRY is important to you, but I assure you, he is technically only a toddler right now. Once he grows older, he will change... drastically. His cute cuddly nature and appearance will... become something extremely deadly. Unfortunately, he will not be able to control himself... and if he is let loose on the world, we would have no choice but to end him, permanently. For now, he is in his teen years, but... very soon you will lose the Benry you know and love. And he may end up killing you... by accident. Or Tommy, for that matter. Do you think I want my son to die because I let him run off with a monster?! Do you think I enjoy what I must do to keep everyone safe?” G-Man snaps, his voice suddenly very terse and cold.
The tone actually made Gordon sink back into his chair, biting his lip. How... how much of that is true...? Was he lying...? What if he was right...? And.... people got hurt because of them...? Because of him? Or if they hurt Benry... Gordon says nothing, and finally glares at G-Man.
“Prove it.” Gordon says, his voice firm. “How can you tell me he is like that if all he has known is being kept as a monster and a prisoner? Like Tommy said, you’re CREATING a monster! You don’t have proof, do you?!” Gordon snaps, arms folding. With a loud and slow sigh. G-Man nods once.
“So be it, Mr. Freeman. I warn you, the road you are taking very well could lead to you losing everything you love. Once he grows old enough, he will eventually become a lot more hostile and aggressive. A perfect predator, in essence. He has already shown signs of following his instincts, hence why he now has no claws..”
“So you’re admitting you cruelly cut off his claws , and made it so he can’t regenerate them? I know he could but those scars are cybernetic implants, aren’t they? So he cannot simply replace them? I know what I saw. That’s pretty fucked up if you ask me... why his hands constantly hurt? I could tell, by the way he grips things, he tries his best to grip with his fingertips. It’s hard to notice, but if you know what to look for it’s easier than hell to read.” Gordon snaps angrily, acid dripping from his tone.
That comment made G-Man and Gordon lock eyes, both glaring daggers at one another. That stiff silence and tension grew much heavier. Not long after, Gordon swore gravity felt slightly heavier in the room. And, just as he blinked, he swore G-Man’s eyes were glowing. With a second blink, the gravity was normal again, no glowing eyes after that. A split second.... that was it... No more messed up games. Benry didn’t deserve this kind of treatment... W-... what did they do to Tommy then...?
Slowly, G-Man takes a long deep inhale before his arms move to rest his elbows on his desk, his hands and fingers intertwined with one another. Oh so carefully, G-Man studied Gordon’s face and body, as if checking for something... That made Gordon seethe as he clears his throat and makes a very snide comment.
“My eyes are up here, SIR.” He says, with a bit more volume at the end for extra snap. The comment makes G-Man’s eyes glow brightly, now looking pretty damn angry. That change in gravity became extremely heavy, and Gordon screamed and scrambled back, knocking over the chair he was sitting in and falling onto it painfully. For a long moment, there was a uneasy charge in the air... Like enegry, or electricity. Right before a lightning strike... it was extremely unnerving. The moment G-Man spoke made Gordon jump and scoot back a bit.
“MR... Freeman. You, are BRILLIANT, for a human.... YOUR AGE. But, your recklessness could cost you VERY DEARLY, if not someone else. You have NOT THE SLIGHTEST IDEA what the hell you are tampering with. Not with me, not with B-479, nothing. You have, absolutely no idea WHY he is here in the first place. You think he is a cute little animal? No, he is a being from outer space, and a extremely well known one for extremely aggressive behavior, and bloodlust. His species is incredibly intelligent, ruthless, brutal, and cruel. It is their nature.”
“Benry, was abandoned as a young... cub. A runt. It is customary that a weak link is to be left behind, if it can survive and prove itself worthy, the species will accept it. Benry, somehow wound up on earth. We still are not sure how fully HOW, but I suspect his parental figure decided to jump through portals and abandon the child in a place where they had a better chance of survival..” G-Man says, his eyes locked with Gordon’s.
There was a pause as G-Man figured Gordon’s tiny human brain needed time to process all that he just said. The shocked expression and stunned silence seemed to solidify that his hunch was indeed, correct. It took a lot to keep G-Man from rolling his eyes with a loud annoyed sigh. Dealing with lower IQ life forms was EXTREMELY taxing and tedious...
Much to his shock, Gordon seemed to pick up his... hint and tone and folds his arms across his chest fingers drumming. With an eyebrow raise, Gordon’s eyes narrowed a bit, challenging him. There was a slight deepening of G-Man’s frown, before he clears his throat slightly.
“I understand this situation does not exactly.. thrill you but I must ask you... LIMIT your contact with B-479... I cannot promise your safety the more attached you grow to it. Things will change, and rather abruptly, Mr. Freeman. Trust me, you will not like the changes. That sweet cuddly appearance may remain the same, but it what you cannot see that lies deep in its mind is what you need to fear... It will make sure to hurt you in ways that you cannot possibly fathom, and then watch you bleed out on the floor after it rips your heart out. Is that really a fate you think you can handle?” G-Man asks, his tone firm and unwavering.
A pause. It wasn’t hard to see the rigid change in Gordon’s body posture. Smell his fear... It... was delicious.... Watching his confidence and resolve crumble was undeniably satisfying, not that he had anything against poor Mr. Freeman, but his... Youth and arrogance will get him killed here. Best stamp it out and prevent another unnecessary death...
Despite it not being done by B-479 himself, there cannot be a repeat of the accident that happened 5 years ago. No, B-479 didn’t cause it, but it was done by another being within Black Mesa... One that is also off the Planet Xen, which B-479 originated. The humans may not know this, but G-Man is ALL TOO familiar with Xenians and their... ways.
It was best... to reduce the odds of the accident repeating itself rather than to cost another innocent man his life. Unfortunately, the alien that did end up killing someone is like a sub species of Benry’s own.... G-Man calls them Xenlings, to make things less complicated. Although the Xenians and Xenlings bicker and quarrel in extremely hostile and aggressive fights and battles, constantly trying to show which is superior.
Barbarians... Since B-479 is technically too closely related to this other alien, the chances of “Benry” being equally hostile and aggressive are too high. Simply, it was ingrained into him. A wolf cannot resist the urge to hunt and eat meat... Not will it ever succeed. The need, the urge is too strong. B-479 and X-358 were no different. Their instincts eventually will win over them. They always did.
There was a sudden stiff change in Gordon’s demeanor, his brows knitted together, as he gently rubbed his hand under his chin, thinking. This made G-Man stare a bit, before raising an eyebrow. The smile that crept across his face made G-Man actually jump. That, was not expected. With a slight flicker of annoyance in his tone, he leaned back in his comfortable office chair, waiting for Gordon to speak.
“Well... there’s a way we can both win. A way that I basically run the risk and you avoid liability through paperwork and shit, and I work for you. As Benry’s MAIN caretaker. While I continue to study for my doctorates... I remain here, in Black Mesa, working with and socializing Benry... you don’t run the risk of lawsuits, you get the intern and I get to care and stay with him, full time. If not, I can... Seek employment elsewhere.... There are plenty of other places that would be BEGGING to have me work for them.. I do have other options, G-Man sir...”
That comment just about made G-Man nearly flip the desk. Slowly, very calmly, he took a few deep breaths and leaned back, with a soft sigh.
“Mr... Freeman... I don’t think you understand how... DEEP you are already involved in this.. situation... You’re in deeper than your neck, the moment you came into contact with.... B-479 immediately made you... a risk. Unfortunately, loose ends here, typically get CUT OFF... if you catch my drift... It’s amusing you think you hold so much sway over such a situation... it’s, humorous... but alas, you’re proving to be more and more of a risk than a benefit... it sure would be shame if... something were to happen to B-479... if you didn’t cooperate, isn’t it?” He says softly, staring right at Gordon who seems to shrink before his eyes.
“Y-you wouldn’t.... f... fine... can I please... I want to be with him.... I won’t... fight you on this... can I please... be his caretaker... I won’t leave this place... I don’t have anything left in the outside world... I didn’t have anything there at all... I’ll do what you want, just please... let me see him... he’s the only person I have who actually cares about me... even if you can’t understand that... ” Gordon says, now sweating noticeably. The tone of Gordon’s voice was submissive, but held a slight firmness to it.
The comments earned a squint from G-Man, who just sat there and stared for a long time. Eventually, he sat up and nods once, an annoyed expression on his face.
“So be it. You’ll have to undergo training and such, and you’re 100% responsible for that beast. Your safety is now in your own hands, and you’re no longer a liability, being a caretaker is extremely difficult taxing and dangerous. You seem to put a dangerous amount of faith in that beast. I pray it won’t end in your funeral, Mr. Freeman. You’ll live here, and your job along with Tommy and Mr. Calhoun is the raising and care of B-479... AND you continue for your doctorates on top of this all... anything, ANYTHING happens, under your care of him, this will end with your head rolling, do you understand?” G-Man eyes, eyes glowing brightly, as he slowly stands up, holding a hand out to Gordon.
A pause. For whatever reason, his mind screamed to not accept. Something felt so wrong, so unsure. Like taking this jump would be the biggest mistake of his life... But... at the same time, his heart fluttered, being able to remain super close to Benry... Yes he did only meet him, but... Seeing how... vulnerable Benry was made something in Gordon want to protect him, be there and comfort him like he did for him when he needed it... without a second thought, Gordon grabs G-Man’s hand, firmly shaking it.
“Deal.” Is all Gordon said, as he and G-Man locked eyes, both challenging the others resolve. As they shook hands, G-Man smiles faintly, eyes and now hand glowing brightly.
“Welcome to Black Mesa, Mr. Freeman...” G-Man says, with a slight smirk.
... *Several weeks later* ...
Finally... after freaking weeks of endles training courses, so many damn hurdles and PILES of paperwork he had to do, Gordon finished. It had taken an absurdly long time, but he finally completed it, and passed each and every test with flying colors. As expected! Duh. With a pep in his step, Gordon waltzed his way down the halls and made his way slowly but surely to Benry’s cell.
From what he was told, he was given the option to live extremely close to Benry... Gordon refused, and insisted he remain close(r) with Benry, as in rooming together. Easier to socialize if you’re constantly with someone, right? Plus, Tommy and Barney were supposed to be there. With a mini victory dance, Gordon ran the last leg of the trip to Benry’s cell, literally bursting at the seams with excitement. As expected, both Tommy and Barney were waiting anxiously outside of the door, seeming uneasy. That made Gordon pause, and glanced nervously between the two.
“Hey guys.... is... something wrong?” Gordon asks, looking around. The two exchanged glances, before looking at Gordon again. Judging from how Barney was shifting uneasily and Tommy was trying his best to avoiding looking directly at Gordon, something did happen.
“Uh... Gord’n... Benry had uhm... Uh.... hit a bit of a growth spurt... he’s uhm... CHANGED A UHM... bit... kinda uh.... grew some new features too... about gave me a heart attack.... not what I was expecting...” Barney says wearily, looking sheepish.
“Uhm... Mr. Freeman... it’s been discovered that Benry is very capable of altering his physical body and such, so his uhm, body had been changing a lot... He can easily hide them away and such but... PLEASE try not to stare too long... it makes him extremely upset...” Tommy pleads, rubbing his arms nervously. “This is all hard for him, it’s like puberty for him... so he’s going through changes and he feels extremely insecure about himself.. poor thing... we’ve tried talking to him but he doesn’t want to... says he’s a monster and such and won’t let us near... can you join us and try talking to him...?” Tommy asks, his voice shaking a bit.
There wasn’t a moments hesitation, which made Barney and Tommy perk up a bit. “Of course ... he needs us to cheer him up so let’s go give him some good news huh?” Gordon says, smiling gently as he approached the door and grabs the handle. Both Barney and Tommy seemed to stiffen as he did so, but Gordon already opened the door. Everything in Gordon’s features changed, his face expression dropping and his eyes widened. Wow... he wasn’t expecting that kind of changes.... that... was unexpected... This was quite a change Gordon was not exactly prepared for....
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theclampdown · 3 years
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wanna make a series of portraits like these heres the Captain 2-0
some info on him
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hes from the same universe as ria and serves as sort of a guiding figure for her. except hes terrible. and shes terrible. theyre all kind of terrible.
he tends to be quite easy-going and sarcastic, and fairly blunt. however, he’s also a great smooth-talker when the situation calls for it, and knows when to raise hackles and when to smooth it down. pragmatic when operating. and despite his ruthlessness and cunning, he does appear to have some sort of strict moral code. but nobody can really figure it out.
he has those kind of scars all over his body, especially his face. most of his face there had to be fixed with plastic surgery and grafts because they were beyond repair, and his eyes were replaced by bionic ones.
his closest friends are in Jackie, Nur, and Miriam. he and Jackie have been a couple for around seven years before the start of the story. besides them, the captain is also a guiding figure for the younger human members on base, especially Cyan and later Ria.
beyond his leadership and strategy, he’s freakishly good at reading people. he’s very good at picking apart someone’s psyche and using it against them, either to gain information or scare people into listening to him. it’s not something he uses often, but if it’s necessary, he absolutely will. this can include his own men if need be.
his friends dont ask about his past and he doesnt tell.
he used to be a mid-ranking officer in the galactic military and was directly responsible for or participated in a lot of atrocities. but he eventually had a turn of heart and attempted to kill himself in a mission, only to survive and be discovered and saved by a neutral party. hence the scars. very quickly he disappeared into the gutters of the galaxy, and soon after joined up with the cause. though he never says where he got his experience in dealing with the military, it’s a hell of an advantage and won him a lot of battles and favor for the cause.
he does not think of himself as a good person at all, and is more than resigned to and accepting of dying a guilty and a terrible man.
at the end of the story, when all eight of them have returned to Earth, he does confess his past, which is the final wedge that breaks apart their group.
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