#I have... feelings about mirage looking and acting so much like Jazz and none of them are good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

howgalling · 1 year

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Mirage looks so delicate compared to Hound 🥹 they are a perfect couple and I love their designs so much. Am I correct in saying that maybe Mirage had always thought her body was something to be modified to be ‘perfect’ for everyone to be liked and Hound came along and was like ‘Stop. You’re perfect anyways, darling. And I love you.’

HAIDJSKFBSJDBEJNE I’m dying of love for these characters.

One more question, is your human Prowl a girl as well? I don’t want to make an assumption based on your other art so I’m just askin’-

Love your blog <3

Aaa thank u!! Prowl is also female!! I have a few very masculine women, because I ❤️ them 🥰

YES!! their interaction is a little more complex than that, so I’ll go into some more detail.

mirage was raised in a societal dynamic that treats body modification as a power statement. Kinda like how rich people will waste insane amounts of money on label based fashion to flex on everyone else, mirage was very much raised with that sort of dynamic except it applies to cybernetics, (it’s all designer brands on mirage lmao)

I thought it would be interesting to have mirages parents be big fashion based cybernetic modification company owners, who pressured their daughter into becoming their walking advertisement. Mirage knows exactly how to act to entertain a set group of people, to charm and pose and strut with just the right amount of carefully constructed ‘ice queen’ gusto to get products sold. so when she- (through various shenanigans and jazz related chaos) is picked up by hound during a situation gone awry, mirage is completely flummoxed about how to interact with hound.

None of her usual techniques work, hound is bewildered more than charmed by her over the top gestures of elegance and sensuality. (In a way, hound pities mirage, watching this almost doll act, instead of exist as a person must be strange) it’s a story of someone who has never been able to find themselves seeing someone who is truly comfortable with their own being. Hound will help people whenever she can, because knowing she made someone’s day easier is enough of a reward on its own. Mirage thinks she’s faking it at first, this genuine want to see the people around her happy with no benefit to herself, this woman with holes in her socks and the elastic of her underwear frayed at the seams. But she realises Hound isn’t an act, and AJDHDJDJ THEN LOVE!!!! Mirage feeling genuine emotion for the first time since childhood ???!!!

Hound has 0 care for fashion labels or any type of eccentricity that involves the destruction of the environment in the search for already drained resources, especially when it comes to wasteful products like fashion tech. I make a point to make her clothes look worn in, repaired time and time again and loved to reflect her refusal to buy into the need to follow trends and look a certain way. But she is unusually approachable; curious and kind. (Confidence in your abilities and where you stand in the world goes a long way) Mirage doesn’t have a single genuine person in her life. Everyone she knows is trapped in this false reality of networking, fashion and modifications:- turning yourself into a walking product advertisement. Whereas hound is very open minded and comfortable with herself, she feels no need to modify her body to fit a fashion trend, all the mods hound has are for pure practicality, (and her job). I think it’s got a lot of sweet potential for mirage to get, well, a reality check. See what the lower class are up to and all that aksnsns

#TLDR I love rich characters with no concept of real life struggles are forced into situations where they #have to spend a lot of time with the people they consider ‘below’ them #and getting their view of the world ROCKED #asks #ask

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hekate1308 · 7 years

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Another Today, Chapter Two

Read it on AO3

Crowley would admit that they hadn’t discussed details when they had made their deal (and quite frankly, he had no one to blame for that but himself) but he was rather sure he hadn’t agreed to his house becoming their base in his coven’s grounds.

But the very next evening, there was a knock on his door and when he went to open it, Charlie Bradbury strolled in, her fairy bluebird familiar perched on one of her shoulders and Dean in his squirrel form on the other.

“Hey, Mr. Crowley”.

“Just Crowley is enough, Miss Bradbury. Gilda”.

The bird chirped.

He looked at Dean.

“Squirrel”.

He glared at him – hardly an intimidating gesture from such a small animal – and, to his surprise, jumped unto his left shoulder in a mirage of the bonded pair in the room.

“Dean said I was right about you not liking Lucifer. Glad to hear it”.

There was an underlying threat in her voice that made him respect her more than he had beforehand.

“I don’t know what he told you, but I am mostly interested in staying alive”.

To his own surprise, he valued his continued existence more than he’d realized.

“As good a reason as any to rebel. At least when you’re scared for your hide you’ve got no reason to betray us”.

“Jesus, Charlie” Dean said, after hoping down on the floor and transforming, “Calm down. He’s on our side”.

Technically he wasn’t on anyone’s side but his own, but he didn’t correct him.

“You’ve never seen Lucifer. His powers...” Charlie shuddered. “I’m just worried, that’s all”.

“It’s gonna be alright. Our family has taken on many bad guys over the centuries”.

He might have underestimated the influence the Winchesters had. Charlie and Gilda clearly looked up to Dean, and his word seemed to be enough for them to trust Crowley, if only warily.

Being chosen to be a Winchester’s witch would be an honour.

Where had that thought come from?

“Let’s get started, then”.

Dean turned to him.

He still hadn’t stepped away from him, and they were close enough that Crowley could distinguish the different shades of green in his eyes.

Not that this was of importance.

“What can you tell us about Lucifer?”

“Why do you think I have any interesting information regarding him?”

Dean shook his head.

“Come on. Guy like you, you probably have a file on everyone you associate with”.

“I haven’t drawn up one on you, yet”.

“Feel ready to begin whenever you want, I ain’t stopping you”.

“Gentlemen, could you quit flirting so we can focus on then monster trying to take over the world for a second?”

Crowley blinked.

Flirting? They hadn’t been flirting. He never flirted. His one night stands knew well enough what he wanted, there was no reason for preliminary rituals.

��Gilda, tell your witch she shouldn’t call the kettle black”.

The fairy blue bird transformed into a pretty young woman a bit shorter than her witch.

“You know as well as I do that no one tells her anything.”

“And you love it, babe”.

So he’d been right about their witch-familiar relationship.

Not all bonds were sexual, of course, although he had always had his suspicions about his mother and Abaddon, and Gavin and Fiona were talking about having children.

“Excuse me if I interrupt this charming display, but you seemed to think time was of the essence”.

“Right. So. Lucifer Pellegrino. What do you know?”

“He arrived here about ten years ago”.

“You had another Supreme then?”

“Yes, Lilith Cassidy”.

Crowley hadn’t been very fond of her either, but as a respected witch, and her occasional lover, he’d known how to get what he wanted from her.

He’d known from the first there was no point in attempting the same with Lucifer. And with his arrival, any interest Lilith had had in Crowley had been gone, as well.

“They started living together; I think she imagined them as the next power couple. It didn’t work out like that. He killed her” he said matter-of-factly.

“You got proof?” Dean asked.

“Of course not. But both her and her familiar burning up during a spell gone wrong... She was always careful, planning every detail. She wouldn’t have risked something like that alone, even though she and Ruby were pretty powerful”.

“At the very least her familiar would have tried to stop her” Gilda said. “We usually do”.

She glared at Charlie.

“It was just once!”

“You wanted to bring Star Trek characters to live”.

“Bones deserves a break with all the saving the crew he does!”

“First of all he does, but we all know what kind of mojo would have been required” Dean said lightly.

“That said, if you ever come across something powerful enough, I wouldn’t say no to young William Shatner crawling out of my TV”.

Crowley was somewhat at a loss, for no coven he’d ever been part of had acted like this.

They seemed less like allies out of safety and habit and more like a family.

“We’re getting off topic again. So he killed your old Supreme?”

“Correct. He then proceeded to take over”.

“And you were all just okay with it?”

“There were... several accidents that year, let’s leave it at that”.

“And that damn mutt probably caused a few” Dean muttered to himself.

“You’re sure you’re feeling alright?” Charlie asked, immediately worried.

“Yeah, like I said, Crowley healed me”.

Her eyes lit up.

“That’s right!”

She turned to Crowley.

“I completely forgot! I was still freaking out about Dean getting hurt, and for all we knew, you might just have been an uninterested bystander, so I wasn’t holding my breath in the first place, and I had a bad night when Dean didn’t come back, and – I’m so sorry, let me do this properly!”

He’d rather have known what “doing this properly” contained before she did it, but before he could moved, she’d drawn him into a tight hug, whispering “Thank you thank you thank you” over and over.

She’d been more subdued when she’d visited before.

“Come on, the poor guy just truly met you” Dean said. “Charlie, I’m pretty sure he has trouble breathing at this point”.

“Oh I’m sorry” she stepped away and Crowley only then realized that, in fact, he had barely gotten any air while she’d squeezed him.

“It’s alright” he said for lack of any other response he could think of.

The simple truth was that he wasn’t used to this kind of treatment.

People didn’t thank him.

People weren’t nice to him, period.

People either left him alone or were scared of him, if he didn’t downright inspire hatred, and he was fine with that.

“So now that you have been introduced to the patented Charlie Bradbury hug, what do you say we move this elsewhere?” Dean asked.

He glanced at him. He couldn’t possibly –

“Your powers extend down into the earth quite a bit. You have a cellar”.

No one else had ever realized that.

Gilda looked at Dean, a puzzled expression on her face.

“It’s there” she said slowly, “but it’s not easy to notice”.

Dean shrugged.

“What can I say, I am just that awesome”.

But none of that explained why Crowley ended up showing them what he had come to call his safe room.

Or how Dean had known it was there.

He’d so carefully shielded it from all detection that not even his mother, who knew his powers the best, had been able to feel it.

“Ah, that’s the reason” Charlie said as soon as she stepped down the stairs, and for a moment, he hoped she’d found an explanation, but instead she just chuckled and pointed to his record player and vinyl records.

“He probably felt the vibrations from those babies. Can’t keep Dean away from music for too long”.

He’d already stepped up to Crowley’s collection. He found himself actually curious what he thought.

“You a jazz guy?”

“I like the classics”.

“Yep, definitely what drew Dean down here” Charlie mumbled.

Gilda threw her a glance. They seemed to communicate through their bond for a moment.

It had always made Crowley uneasy when witches and familiars talked privately in front of him like this, but he didn’t mind when it came to Charlie and Gilda.

Maybe because he could hardly imagine either of them attacking him after that hug.

“This is somewhat more... comfortable than I imagined it” Dean commented.

He had made sure his hideaway was as pleasant as it could be, bearing in mind that he couldn’t have windows.

All his favourite books and movies, a large assortment of Craig, good furniture...

“I actually like it better down her then upstairs. Just how much of yourself do you keep hidden away?”

“That is a rather deep question considering two days ago I had no idea who you were, don’t you think?”

He was surprised that he wasn’t angrier – he was slightly irritated by the question, sure, but nowhere near as furious as he would have been, if Rowena had dared ask the same.

Charlie nudged Gilda. They talked through their bond again.

“Come on, girls” Dean complained. “If it’s important, let us know”.

“Oh, it is, but it doesn’t concern our current problem”.

“Here” he said, stepping up to a file cabinet.

“This is all I have on Lucifer”.

Dean took the file he handed him.

“You could find nothing on him before he came here!? The guy either lived the most boring life imaginable and suddenly decided to become your Supreme, or he has something to hide”.

“And all probability points to the later” he agreed. “But sadly, my contacts couldn’t help me. No one has ever heard of this guy”.

“No one who’s alive, at least” Charlie mumbled.

“Why did your Supreme take him in?”

“Lilith was all about power, and he has more than enough of that”.

“I’d say, if he ordered his familiar to kill you” Gilda said. “What exactly is their relationship like? I love Charlie, but I wouldn’t commit murder if she told me to”.

After a pause she added, “Unless it was justified, of course”.

Crowley smirked before replying, “I’m not sure. I have never been particularly apt at feeling bonds. My mother might know, but she’s sadly enamoured of Lucifer. From the looks of it, I always thought they were like master and slave”.

Gilda made a strange noise that sounded like the human form of a frustrated chirp, and Dean looked furious.

He understood that. It couldn’t be pleasant, hearing about a member of their species being used like that.

On the other hand, it was Michael, and the thought of him suffering didn’t inspire pity. If he was even suffering at all. Maybe he liked doing whatever Lucifer told him to.

But this was more complicated than whether Michael had chosen to become Lucifer’s pet or not.

For centuries, witches had looked down at and dominated their familiars as useful conveniences. Things to channel their magic through. It had taken a long time for them to establish themselves as individuals with rights of their own.

Of course any self-respecting familiar would hate a witch who still believed in this old-fashioned nonsense.

Crowley never had. He had met too many idiotic witches and fiendishly intelligent familiars to even consider it.

He was starting to think both Dean and Gilda were more proof of the power of familiars.

A thrill went down his spine.

“Someone’s at the door. Someone I don’t know”.

“Who is it?”

Crowley concentrated on the spot.

“It seems to be a witch, a young woman, and a familiar... in Moose form”.

“Should have known Sammy would show up soon – he said he just had to finish a case before he and Sarah came along.”

“Wait, that’s your brother?”

He’d collected more information about the Winchesters from the moment Dean had left him yesterday, of course.

“Of course you know his name... And don’t you dare make even one joke”.

“I can’t imagine what about” he deadpanned as Dean, with a glare, transformed to make a point and skipped up the steps to meet his brother.

“Winchesters. Trust me, they’re worth every single nerve they cost you – Charlie’s basically one of them, too” Gilda told him, but he couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

It wasn’t like he and Dean would see much of each other after they had dealt with Lucifer.

#my writings #drowley #witch!crowley #familiar!dean

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