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eluxcastar · 1 month

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Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat.

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it.

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

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positivelyholland · 4 months

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To Our Future Together

pairing: luke castellan x reader

genre: fluff

summary: one night while laying under the stars, you and luke begin to wonder what the stars have fated for your futures together.

warnings: really sappy, not proofread

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seated on a quiet hillside overlooking the ocean, you and your long-term boyfriend shared dreams beneath the canvas of a star-studded sky. The night's serenity lent itself to discussions into the realm of shared futures.

“I might be crazy to say this, but do you ever wonder what our lives will be like once this is all over?” As you raised the question, you noticed Luke’s heartbeat deciding on a quicker pace within his chest that your head was resting on.

“What exactly do you mean by that? If you’re talking about any sort of future together then I’ll be the first to admit I’ve thought a little too much about how good Y/n Castellan sounds,” he says with a slight smirk.

“It does have a good ring to it, doesn't it?” you laughed along with him, “but i guess i more meant that once everything changes, or once we have to leave camp half-blood, what happens to us?”

“I need you to know I am being so serious when I say that you’re it for me. I genuinely don’t think a life without you is possible. The only future I see for myself is one with you, me, and four to five miniature versions of us.”

You found comfort in the warmth that flooded Luke's gaze. You could see it in his eyes, how his once-turbulent past seemed to fade away as he embraced the idea of a family with you, one that echoed with echoes of joy and the pitter-patter of tiny feet.

“I one hundred percent agree with everything you said, except the only thing is how I thought I heard you use the number five when talking about how many times I’ll have to go through childbirth,” you teased, “but feel free to correct me if I heard wrong.”

“You’re not hearing things, love. I did say five but I actually dream about ten little ones running around, I'll take as many as you’re willing to give me,” he teased with a chuckle. “Realistically, though, I don’t care much about the details as long as I have you.”

Luke's fingers gently entwined with yours as you began to paint a picture of the life you envisioned together. With sincerity in his eyes, he listened to your hopes and aspirations, nodding in agreement as you spoke of a home filled with love and laughter.

You spoke of raising children who would inherit the strength and kindness you saw in Luke, a blend of mortal and demigod virtues. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of anticipation and affection as he imagined teaching them about the world and the lessons he had learned.

Together, you crafted a vision of a life where bedtime stories were spun with tales of adventure and the glory days, and bedtime kisses were accompanied by whispered promises of protection and love.

Luke, once with a lost purpose of life, now saw a future intertwined with the legacy of your shared love. The prospect of a future filled with family became a beacon of hope, a testament to the healing power of love.

And so, beneath the stars, the two of you embarked on a journey of dreams, each whispered promise sealing the foundation of a future built on love, trust, and the belief that together, you could weather any storm.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #positively holland #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell

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iovmegumi · 1 year

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sims 4 crystal legacy challenge

hello! here is a legacy challenge i created while playing the Garden Legacy challenge. i didn’t want to finish on my tenth gen and decided to create my own challenge, based on crystals. this challenge can be continued from a previous save or started in a new one! i also tried to implement base game options for those who don’t own all the packs! some gens do need packs but if you don’t have them, they may be skipped.

if you play this please tag me! or post your sims with #iovmegumi crystal legacy challenge

general rules ❥ you do not have to live on the same lot for all 10 generations if you wish. ❥ mods and cc are allowed! ❥ no money cheats ! ❥ i’ve assigned a colour to each gen so you may play with berry sims if you wish! ❥ i’ve decided that in each generation you may roll for offspring (rolling a dice or using a random number generator to decide how many children) unless stated otherwise in the rules.

gen one - rose quartz (pink)

a stone of unconditional love.

growing up, all you ever wanted was a family. leaving home young to start your life, you work on your career while trying to find the one, dedicated to cultivating the perfect life. you work hard to support your family and love your children so much, opening your heart and home to those in need of families as well. you cherish your partner and frequently find yourself going on date nights.

traits: family-oriented, romantic, perfectionist aspiration: super parent (PH) or big happy family rules:

❥ level 10 cooking ❥ level 5 gourmet cooking ❥ level 10 parenting (PH) ❥ master arts critic career or reach level 10 of painting while freelancing ❥ have four kids, one adopted ❥ marry your soulmate and stay together until death do you part

gen two - orange calcite (orange)

a stone for energy and creativity.

you had everything as a child, lots of siblings and loving parents. you took an interest in your house, specifically the furniture and decided that you’d love to create your own items. when you are old enough you begin learning how to make furniture and take an interest in repairing objects. though you grew such a passion for this, you found that you hadn’t really had time to make friends.

traits: loner, self-assured, maker (EL) or creative aspiration: master maker (EL) or curator rules:

❥ level 10 fabrication (EL) or complete crystal collection or both! ❥level 10 handiness ❥ level 5 gardening ❥ level 10 civil designer career - green technician branch (EL) or live off making creations ❥ have only one friend ❥ marry that friend ❥ complete aspiration ❥ roll for offspring ❥ fill house with furniture or items you’ve made

gen three - moonstone (white)

a symbol of light and hope and also encourages us to embrace new beginnings.

your parents were so focused on the world around you that you began wondering what else was out there. you grew a fascination for space and found the urge to explore outside your planet. you meet some different people, and even find yourself falling in love with one of them. how do you tell your parents that you’re marrying an alien?

traits: genius, family-oriented, clumsy aspiration: nerd brain rules:

❥ level 10 logic ❥ level 10 fitness ❥ level 10 rocket science ❥ level 5 parenting ❥ level 10 astronaut career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ have 4-5 kids ❥ marry an alien (if you have GTW) ❥ build & fully upgrade a rocket ship ❥ travel to sixam

gen four - sodalite (blue)

enhances communication and builds confidence.

having an alien background, you have never felt like you fit in. you dream of having lots of friends and living a normal life. you focus on trying to blend into society and try to be as social as possible, throwing parties and meeting new sims, even seeming to gain some attention on the internet too.

traits: outgoing, unflirty, party animal or bro and loyal aspiration: friend of the world rules:

❥ level 10 charisma ❥ level 7 comedy or mischief ❥ level 7 video gaming ❥ level 10 social media career - internet personality branch (CL) or entertainer - comedy branch ❥ complete aspiration ❥ roll for offspring ❥ throw 5 parties over the course of your life

gen five - pyrite (grey)

used for abundance, confidence & protection.

note: this gen requires Get Famous and may be skipped if you do not own the pack!

having a well-known parent thrust you into the spotlight from a young age and as you grew older, you found yourself loving it, wanting more. you dream of being on the big screen, your face plastered on billboards, your name nominated for awards. you’ll do anything to gain fame, even if it means use others.

traits: ambitious, snob, self-absorbed (GF) aspiration: world famous celebrity rules:

❥ level 10 acting ❥ level 10 piano ❥ level 5 violin ❥ level 5 guitar ❥ level 10 acting career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ become a 5 star celebrity ❥ have two failed marriages ❥ have only one child ❥ have a butler (VG)

gen six - amethyst (purple)

a powerful protective stone.

your parent was obsessed with fame, wanting you to follow in their footsteps. after seeing how little they cared about you, you decided to go in a different direction. your butler was your best friend and basically raised you, talking to you of how they used to love their family garden. you decide a quiet life is suited to you and put all your focus into working on a lovely garden dedicated to your butler.

traits: loves the outdoors, neat, vegetarian aspiration: freelance botanist rules:

❥ level 10 gardening ❥ level 10 cooking ❥ level 6 logic ❥ level 10 gardening career (seasons) or complete basegame plants collection or both ❥ have at least 3 kids ❥ lose one child to death ❥ be best friends with your childhood butler

gen seven - tourmaline (black)

promotes happiness and offers protection, inspires creativity.

losing a sibling was the hardest time of your life, and you found that your family never recovered from this loss. you hear a myth of a book that can bring people back to life and vow to return your sibling back to you and your family.

traits: gloomy, creative, paranoid or erratic aspiration: bestselling author rules:

❥ level 10 writing skill ❥ level 5 photography skill (GTW) ❥ level 10 writing career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ write book of life & bring back deceased sibling ❥ marry a bookworm ❥ roll for offspring ❥ adopt a cat (C&D)

gen eight - bloodstone (red)

for courage & justice, strengthens immune system & family bonds.

your parents had been stressed a lot of their life, working hard to bring your family member back. you were frustrated that they had to go through so much and decided to take it out on others. you grew to despise most people, working on creating enemies rather than friends, feeling a sense of justice for your parent. yet you still made sure to love your children, even if you may have not loved your spouse as much.

traits: mean, noncommittal, bro aspiration: bodybuilder rules:

❥ level 10 programming ❥ level 10 mischief ❥ level 10 criminal career (oracle branch) ❥ roll for offspring ❥ cheat on your spouse once all children are born ❥ get divorced as an adult ❥ get engaged again & leave new spouse at the altar

gen nine - amazonite (green)

a stone of peace, harmony, truth & communication.

the trauma of your parents rough marriage led you to pursue finding harmony and inner peace. you find this through yoga and painting, refusing to get a job so you can keep an eye on your spouse and make sure all your children feel loved.

traits: jealous, erratic, art lover aspiration: painter extraordinaire rules:

❥ level 10 painting ❥ level 10 wellness (SD) or level 10 violin ❥ level 5 knitting (NK) ❥ complete aspiration ❥ never get a job ❥ fill your household with children ❥ always celebrate the holidays (seasons) ❥ go to the spa once a week (SD)

gen ten - citrine (yellow)

attracts wealth, prosperity & success.

note: this gen requires discover university! but i have included a basegame option too!

your whole life has revolved around your siblings. you had nothing that was your own and desperately wanted to remove yourself from them, wanting your own success and your own name. you study and get a degree, priding yourself on your intelligence and work ethic.

traits: hot-headed, materialistic, overachiever or ambitious aspiration: fabulously wealthy rules:

❥ level 10 robotics or level 10 logic & charisma ❥ level 7 programming ❥ level 7 handiness ❥ level 10 engineer career or level 10 business career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ get a university degree (DU) ❥ own a dog & a cat (C&D)

#sims 4 challenge #sims 4 #ts4 #iovmegumi crystal legacy challenge #crystal legacy challenge #legacy #sims 4 legacy challenge #legacy challenge #10 gen legacy #the sims 4 #the sims 4 challenges #sims 4 challenges #basegame legacy #discover university #get famous #sims 4 seasons #berry sims #sims 4 berry challenge #sims 4 berry sims

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many-shades-of-violence · 8 months

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being part of their crew I Heart Pirates

characters: Law, Penguin, Shachi, Bepo, Ikkaku

content: fluff, slice-off life, mention of Law x Reader

a/n: I made a fanfiction out of this headcanon. Read the first chapter here or continue on AO3

You met the Heart Pirates under unique circumstances, being saved by them in your hometown, when some goons trampled on your cherished log report to taunt you.

Law quickly recognized your potential when he returned you the trampled log report, snatching only a quick but convincing glance that promised him the log keeper he was on the lookout for.

What first began as a quick treatment of your wounds on his side, ended in an invitation to join his crew. Even though you were a bit hesitant at first, the promise of a very own embroidered boiler suit, a study to write in and a polar bear on board, quickly convinced you.

You've integrated into the Heart Pirates as the crew's dedicated log keeper, entrusted with the crucial responsibility of meticulously documenting their tumultuous journey through the wild waters of the Grand Line.

Your exceptional talent for capturing the essence of each battle and encounter solidified your role as an indispensable member of the crew very quickly. Your journal becomes a repository of the crew's adventures, preserving their legacy and tales for the future.

Recognizing your wistful mind, Law starts to invite you to join him in crafting intricate battle strategies. The symbiotic relationship you share forms an unparalleled strategy duo, consistently outwitting opponents.

Shachi and Penguin, adopting the roles of protective older brothers, extend their watchful care over you. Their playful teasing is underpinned by genuine affection, and they find solace in your presence, appreciating the warmth you contribute to the crew's dynamic. Although their antics might occasionally test your patience, once having made the fault to snatch your log book without consent, they remain steadfast companions.

When it comes to culinary endeavors, chaos ensues when you, Penguin, and Shachi venture into the kitchen. Laughter reverberates as you navigate through culinary mishaps. However, beware of crossing the line, as Law's stern reprimand awaits those who push the boundaries of chaos too far, especially when he´s studying.

Your bond with Bepo deepens as you share books, knowledge on information processing and delight in mutual indulgence in sweet snacks. You assist Bepo in honing his navigation skills, acquiring knowledge that bolsters your own capabilities as you become his dependable aide during moments of crisis e.g. smudged ink on a newly drawn map.

Ikkaku, the accomplished mechanic of the crew, becomes your confidante and partner in gossip, relaying intriguing stories she picks up along the way. As she has a reputation to uphold as one of the few female crew members, her tendency for shopping sprees occasionally takes her away on the mainland. If you ever decide to embrace a more glamorous appearance, Ikkaku is your go-to stylist, although candid remarks from Penguin and Shachi's might follow, much to Law's nonchalant displeasure.

As time marches on, an unspoken connection blossoms between you, the crew and particularly the captain. Stolen glances and subtle gestures with the latter convey sentiments that words have yet to articulate. If the crew, - and especially Penguin and Shachi- catches wind of the blossoming romance and endeavors, they’ll play matchmaker in their idiosyncratic ways. Be ready for a lot of precipitating moments that range from heartwarming to utterly chaotic.

Bound by the aspiration to compile the quintessential travel log leading to the One Piece, you share a dream of unraveling the enigmas concealed within the treasure and the Void Century.

You're well aware that there are numerous contenders for this goal, with the Straw Hat and Kid Pirates being the most prominent among the Worst Generation. Nevertheless, you are confident that your crew will be the one to achieve it, and you willingly and wholeheartedly devote yourself to that cause.

#one piece #op #heart pirates #shachi #penguin #bepo #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #my stuff #writing #heart pirates x reader #swallow island gang #ikkaku

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pininghermit · 9 months

Text

Alucard as a Dad

Request: I really liked the pregnancy fiction, can you do one for Alucard as a dad?

Summary: He knows her, knows her even more intimately than himself. A sigh of relief escapes him, and a genuine smile graces his face, erasing any lingering hesitance from his tumultuous past.

AN: I tried ;) (Dividers by @chachachannah- thanks!)

Please read this before continuing-Part 1 (It makes sense I swear)

With quivering hands and a resolute expression, Adrian cradles your daughter for the first time. A quick glance in your direction unsures he's handling everything correctly.

Yet, the moment her delicate weight settles in his arms, an understanding dawns upon him. He knows her, knows her even more intimately than himself. A sigh of relief escapes him, and a genuine smile graces his face, erasing any lingering hesitance from his tumultuous past.

The unadulterated happiness that courses through him sweeps away all uncertainties. "Narya," he addresses her by name, and your daughter meets his gaze, her tiny lips curving into a response that mirrors his smile.

She carries his resemblance remarkably, with scattered tufts of golden hair and shimmering, golden eyes. Yet, her toothless grin belongs entirely to you. The slight dimple on her chin is a charming legacy from her mother.

The first time you bring Narya to Castle Dracula, the three of you embark on a memorable project. You collectively paint your footprints on a massive sheet of paper, an endeavor that involves both you and Adrian fluttering around a squirming Narya to capture her tiny foot imprints.

In no time, he compensates for every missed moment during your pregnancy. Tired arms from holding the baby? Alucard steps in. Need a restroom break? No problem, Alucard is already at Narya's side. Late-night bouts of pacifying your daughter's cries? Adrian is there, soothing her before you even stir from your sleep.

From tending to a slight fever to ensuring a delayed burp, Adrian, despite being her father, becomes the quintessential mother hen to your daughter.

You willingly grant Adrian the time to bond with his daughter, to acquaint himself with her unique essence. You, on the other hand, have known her existence from the very moment it dawned upon you.

Your baby, a blend of both dhampir and human, bears a predominantly human appearance, with the exception of her luminous eyes and slightly lower body temperature. Her growth mirrors the developmental stages you've observed in countless other children around you.

Yet, within the secret corners of your thoughts, you harbor a desire for her to inherit more from her father. You yearn for her to possess the gift of immortality, akin to Adrian. This longing stems from your wish to leave behind someone for Adrian when your own time inevitably wanes – a constant presence to anchor him in the world.

One late afternoon, as you gently pry open the door to your bedroom, a heartwarming scene greets you: your daughter slumbers serenely atop your husband's chest. Her tiny hands grasp his shirt, finding security in his embrace. Adrian's arms cradle her with tenderness, and what takes you aback is the genuine, tranquil smile adorning his face in his slumber. This smile, free from the habitual furrow of his brow or the weight of his recurring nightmares, fills your heart with a renewed sense of hope.

In that moment, you find yourself fervently praying for her immortality more fervently than ever before. It's not just a wish for her own well-being, but a yearning to ensure that Adrian's happiness.

Castle Dracula becomes livelier with your daughter's presence. Her giggles and Adrian's baby voice ring loud from whatever room father and daughter decide to grace.

And if you walk in on your daughter cuddling into a large wolf or clapping around a party of bats you join the party. Winking at the wolf as you jump into the cuddle pile.

There are days when Alucard holds your daughter and for hours talks to the pictures of her grandparents. Both Lisa and Dracula get to meet her.

Matilda, Ronnie, Bowie, and Pink are all dolls made by Alucard for your daughter. Each given a special feature and leaves your daughter a giggling mess. Be it Bowie's squeaking noise or Pink's flapping hands.

On nights when your daughter sleeps peacefully and the world lulls into silence. Adrian turns to you and lays bare his vulnerability. All the sorrow and gratitude is expressed in quiet whispers. Tears and reassurances hold you both together.

He does not easily forgive himself for his abandonment of you during your pregnancy and it shows up during lively family dinner, story times, or nap times. But you do not allow him to spiral. Holding him close you lean in and tickle your dhampir until his booming laughter fills the room.

Both uncle Trevor and Aunt Sypha undergo the regular mandatory Narya bragging session by Alucard either in person or through letters. It doesn't surprise you that your daughter take a liking to the Belmont sooner than anyone else. "She is just compensating for his lack of intellect," your husband ads trying not to scowl at Trevor. "Haven't you heard opposites attract? My daughter just finds you stupidity funny." Neither Trevor nor Narya turn back from their conspiring whispers to reply to your annoyed husband. He does get a sympathy shoulder pat from you.

Three years later, with Narya's fist wrapped around your finger you enter the healer's hut again. Only to find the news of Narya's sibling on the way.

And this time your pregnancy is spent in Castle Dracula, next to Alucard, who takes in every detail. He spends weeks waiting for the bump to show, and nights after that talking to it.

The child inside you definitely recognizes his voice, because any indication of Adrian's presence leads to a very active march in your belly.

Alucard does not shy away from indulging in your pregnancy cravings. Pickles with jam? That's his jam now. He will join you to chug pickle juice straight from the jar.

He is however, very much concerned about the morning sickness bouts. Entirety of Dracula's library is turned over to find a cure but the child inside of you is as stubborn as his father.

Both you and Alucard burst laughing the sight of Narya mimicking your pregnancy waddle.

When the labor starts you find yourself next to Alucard again. Your hand clutched in his and your breath coming heavy. You push for an hour before your sons enter the world. Surprising everyone.

You give birth to twins bearing your and Adrian's features. Narya becomes an elder sister.

#castlevania #alucard x reader #alucard #adrian tepes #adrian tepes x reader #Alucard's daughter #fluff #family feels

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agendabymooner · 8 months

Text

the royal resemblance ! esteban o. x ofc (british princess!ofc)

summary: albertine (spencer) ocon lived to give her estranged family a heart attack by simply existing and giving birth to a daughter who looked so much like her... and her mother.

OR the youngest royal and the alpine driver had finally set their boundaries when it came to the british royal press as a way to maintain the privacy that they had managed to preserve throughout their years of relationship and marriage.

content warning: use of explicit language, princess ofc with a lack of princess manner (aka being more upfront), dad!estie x mom!ofc, fluff?? fictional news articles + posts

note: i need to post this otherwise my storage will continue to be full as hell 🤡

masterlist

THE FAST LANE DAILY

PRINCESS ALBERTINE MAKES GRAND ENTRANCE AT STATE BANQUET, WEARING DIANA-INSPIRED ATTIRE

london, uk - in a stunning display of elegance and style, princess albertine, the youngest daughter of king charles iii, attended the highly anticipated state banquet alongside her husband, french formula one alpine driver esteban ocon. the event marked the first time the couple appeared together as a married couple, capturing the attention of the media and royal enthusiasts alike.

princess albertine, born in 1996, has had a unique journey within the royal family. her custody was passed to her maternal grandmother and eventually to her uncle, leading her to distance herself from her royal title. instead, she chose to use the surname spencer, a nod to her mother's family. however, after tying the knot with ocon, she decided to adopt his surname, solidifying their union.

the british media had been eagerly awaiting a glimpse into the couple's private life, but it was not until three months after their wedding that princess albertine and ocon officially announced their marriage. this secrecy only added to the intrigue surrounding their relationship.

princess albertine had previously declined offers to attend the state banquet on two occasions. however, with the assurance that her brother, prince harry, would also be in attendance, she finally accepted the invitation, making her presence known in a truly unforgettable manner.

stepping into the grand hall, princess albertine made a striking entrance, wearing a dress reminiscent of her late mother, princess diana's iconic style. her haircut, bearing a striking resemblance to diana's, caused a stir among attendees, including her father, king charles iii, and her brother, prince william, the prince of wales.

to complete her regal ensemble, princess albertine donned a breathtaking aquamarine tiara, drawing attention away from the working royals, including queen camilla. the tiara, a personal collection piece, was a gift from dodi fayed's father, who maintained a connection with albertine despite the tragic loss of both her mother and his son. complementing the tiara, she wore a set of aquamarine jewelry, including a wedding band that matched ocon's, which held sentimental value as an heirloom from diana.

the couple's appearance at the state banquet as a married couple was met with great excitement and speculation. many believe that such a rare occurrence would not have taken place had prince harry not been in attendance as well. the presence of both siblings added an air of unity and significance to the event, captivating the attention of all those present.

as princess albertine and ocon gracefully mingled with dignitaries and fellow guests, their radiant presence and homage to princess diana's legacy left a lasting impression. their appearance at the state banquet not only showcased their love and commitment but also hinted at a new chapter in the royal family's history, one that embraces change and celebrates individuality.

with their enchanting presence, princess albertine and ocon have undoubtedly left an indelible mark on the hearts of the british public, reigniting the fascination and admiration for the royal family.

THE FAST LANE DAILY

PRINCESS ALBERTINE AND ROYAL FAMILY'S PLAN FOR LIMITED NEWS COVERAGE

in a surprising turn of events, princess albertine, a member of the british royal family has expressed her lack of connection to her father, king charles iii, and her desire to lead a normal life away from the public eye. despite her lack of close relationships within the royal family, the palace has announced plans to provide limited news coverage about her and her family.

princess albertine's custody was passed to her maternal grandmother following the tragic death of her mother, diana spencer, in paris in 1997. at just one year old, she was separated from her father, resulting in a distant relationship with the royal family. her only remaining connection, prince harry, has also distanced himself from the family.

recently, princess albertine made headlines for her portrayal of her late mother, princess diana, in the popular television series, the crown. the palace remained tight-lipped about the news, while insiders expressed disappointment over the portrayal, hinting at the royal family's disapproval.

despite her strained relationship with her father, princess albertine has managed to retain her royal title, thanks to a strategic divorce between her parents shortly after her birth. this decision ensured the preservation of her legitimacy and her connection to charles' bloodline.

in a surprising twist, princess albertine secretly tied the knot with esteban ocon, a formula one driver. the couple managed to keep their marriage under wraps for three months, evading the prying eyes of the british media. this unexpected union further solidified princess albertine's desire for privacy and independence.

expressing her desire to distance herself from her family's public relations agenda, princess albertine has made it clear that she wants no involvement with the royal family. while the palace has agreed to respect her wishes, they have also stated that certain announcements will be made on her behalf. however, they have emphasized that no further details will be provided, allowing princess albertine the opportunity to discuss these matters herself.

princess albertine and her husband, esteban ocon, are not pleased with this arrangement but reluctantly agreed to the clause in order to appease the royal family. it is evident that they wish to maintain control over their own lives and decisions, free from the constraints of the palace's public relations machinery.

as princess albertine and esteban ocon navigate their newfound marriage and life together, it remains to be seen how they will handle the delicate balance between their desire for privacy and the royal family's need for limited news coverage. the world eagerly awaits any further developments from this intriguing royal couple.

THE BUCKINGHAM PALACE'S ISSUED STATEMENT - MAY 2026

THE BUCKINGHAM PALACE'S ISSUED STATEMENT - JANUARY 2027

MAY 2027

tagged albertinespencer

liked by mickschumacher, lance_stroll, pierregasly

user1 HER NAME IS DITTY I LOVE THAT SO MUCH 😭

user2 ok but who'd name their baby ditty? bffr

user3 gurl albie's cousin is literally named kitty fuck outta here 😩

user4 little albie 🤩

mickschumacher itty bitty ditty 😍 liked by estebanocon

user5 itty bitty ditty???

lance_stroll i cannot believe she had grown sooo much ugh 🥲 are you sure she's still not allowed to the paddock? liked by estebanocon

albertinespencer what's in it for the tired parents?

lance_stroll uncle lance as a date night babysitter?

albertinespencer i can take that

pierregasly i'm so excited to take her on a bicycle ride around the track liked by estebanocon

lance_stroll cool story pierre but i have a basket to put her in on our bicycle ride, what do you have? liked by estebanocon

mickschumacher that's cool but uncle mick already got a wagon in the merc garage to put her in for a ride 😎 liked by estebanocon

mercedesamgf1 mick if there's a report of a break-in in our garage we are blaming this on you- we've told you about the wagon in secret

user6 i live for the grid uncles comments

user7 she is princess d coded 👑

albertinespencer she's just cheering for her papa in here, don't mind her 🤔😍 liked by estebanocon

estebanocon my number one fans ❤️

albertinespencer once an ocon fan, always an ocon fan 💖 liked and pinned by estebanocon

charles_leclerc so glad to be there for her christening, lad! liked by estebanocon

landonorris the all-white party- so iconic liked by estebanocon

estebanocon glad you guys could make it before the pre-testing!

albertinespencer she def loves all of you!

landonorris she better- otherwise idk why i had a little mclaren car made for her

tagged estebanocon

liked by charles_leclerc, kitty.spencer, maxverstappen1

comments have been limited

maxverstappen1 she's the sweetest girl ever 😍 liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer just say that you're glad she hasn't thrown up on you 🤣

maxverstappen1 no i'm relieved though 😅

kitty.spencer i should fly to switzerland just to spend more time with ditty 😊 liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer please!!! it's becoming more boring without estie here 😄

kitty.spencer omw my love!!! 💖

oscarpiastri born in 31st? esteban's driver number? sheesh, a dedicated fan you've got there albie liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer she's an absolute devotee 🤪

landonorris she's the frenchest british princess ever tbh 😕🤭 liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer she's born in switzerland but word ig 🤠

lewishamilton sending my love in her way!!! ❤️ liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer thank you lewis! though, you meant it in a metaphorical sense right because i just received a package of baby mercedes things in here with your name on it 🤔

lewishamilton busted 😅

alpineracingf1 lewis please ditty's dad drives for us

estebanocon i love her so much i wish i can come home and ditch the triple header 😕😭 liked by albertinespencer

albertinespencer it's not encouraged but it is an option...?

alpineracingf1 albie we still need to make you and ditty proud please don't encourage him

PS albie and estie's baby

diana marie-françois elisabeth 'ditty' ocon

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khami-the-raccoon · 6 months

Note

I love sibling relationships.

Could you do Hannibal x Twin!Reader (platonic)? Reader is Hannibal’s identical twin, and teaches Reader how to cook.

Hello! Thank you for your request, I wrote the reader as male, but if you prefer it to be GN I’ll gladly change it! Please specify the reader’s gender : )

Hannibal x Twin! Male reader (platonic)

Summary: Hannibal x male reader, where they are identical twins, and they spend quality time together. (Platonic)

Word count: 833 (?)

Hannibal Lecter Masterlist

General Masterlist

Part 2

Hannibal Lecter had an identical twin brother, Y/N Lecter. Born into the same dark legacy, the two siblings had taken vastly different paths in life. Hannibal, a renowned psychiatrist with a taste for fine cuisine, and Y/N, an unassuming bookstore owner who knew little about the culinary arts.

One evening, Hannibal decided it was time to bring Y/N into his world. He invited his brother to his home, an architectural masterpiece hidden in the heart of Baltimore. Y/N arrived with curiosity, looking around, his twin’s home was nothing like his. It was way bigger and surely more expensive. “I must say, brother, this house is quite the luxury,” Y/N said as he walked inside the mansion. Hannibal chuckled, he was very happy to have his brother back with him.

They had lived in different places for a long time, and they barely talked. Their lifestyles were very different. Y/N was all about simplicity, while Hannibal expressed himself through his house, clothes, and everything he owned.

As the brothers reunited, Hannibal guided Y/N to his impeccably designed kitchen, a realm where art and darkness met. The aroma of freshly roasted herbs and spices wafted through the air, a beautiful symphony that danced on their senses. Hannibal, dressed in his signature impeccable suit, introduced Y/N to one of his favorite things to do; cooking.

"Brother, it is time you learn one of the most beautiful forms of art," Hannibal said, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Y/N, dressed in a simple apron, was both intrigued and apprehensive. "I've never been much of a cook, Hannibal.

Hannibal, with his usual charm and charisma, reassured him, "As I said before, cooking is an art, and you, my dear brother, are about to become a true artist."

And so, the lessons began. Hannibal patiently taught Y/N the intricacies of knife skills, the balance of flavors, and the importance of presentation. He introduced him to rare ingredients, guiding his hands to create culinary masterpieces that rivaled the finest restaurants in the world.

As the days turned into weeks, Y/N got totally into this new world his brother had opened up for him. He learned to see beauty in things like chopping meat and arranging food on a plate, and how to make flavors sing in a single dish.

But along the way, Y/N couldn't help but notice the darkness lurking in Hannibal's eyes, the same darkness that made him famous. Yet, there was something unexplainable that bound them as brothers, something that went beyond their differences.

Hannibal and Y/N's cooking sessions became more than just culinary lessons; they were a window into their shared past. One evening, as they stood side by side at the kitchen island, Y/N couldn't help but ask, "Hannibal, how did we end up on such different paths?"

Hannibal paused for a moment, a contemplative look in his eyes, as he continued to work on their meal. "It's a question I've often asked myself, Y/N," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "Perhaps it was the same darkness that dwelled within us both, but I chose to embrace it in a way that allowed me to savor it, to appreciate the beauty in it, while you, Y/N, chose a different path. You found solace in the simplicity of life, in the pages of books and the quiet of your bookstore."

Y/N nodded thoughtfully, understanding that their choices had led them down distinct, yet connected, roads. "It's as if we're two sides of the same coin, Hannibal. You indulge in the darkness, and I... I've always sought the light."

Hannibal smiled and nodded, a rare warmth in his eyes, and placed a perfectly plated dish in front of Y/N.

As the evening continued, the brothers sat together, eating the meal they had just prepared. They were feeling a heavy feeling of nostalgia, as they talked happily about memories of their childhood as twins.

A few days passed, and Hannibal taught Y/N a lot more about cooking. It was a quiet evening, just the two of them in the kitchen, working side by side. Y/N was meticulously slicing vegetables for a dish they were preparing, while Hannibal expertly seared a piece of meat.

Hannibal glanced at Y/N, a warmth in his eyes that was rare for him. "You know, Y/N," he said, "I've missed having you in my life. I've missed having my brother around."

Y/N looked up from his cutting board, and for the first time in a long time, he saw a genuine smile on Hannibal's face. "I've missed you too, Hannibal," he admitted, his voice filled with emotion. "I never thought we'd end up like this, cooking together."

Hannibal nodded, and in that moment, they shared a deep understanding that went beyond their differences. They were brothers, twins, with a bond that couldn't be broken by time or the paths they had chosen

#male reader #fanfic #x male reader #trans male reader #writing #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x male reader #hannibal #hannibal x reader #platonic

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somuchbetterthanthat · 1 year

Text

I love Elias 'Jonah Magnus' Bouchard so much. I love this 200 year old man who loves spreadsheets and passively watching horrible shit going around him; I love him for how he heard there are horrible Fears Entities in the world, had his mentor tell him 'we need to balance them out!' whilst all their friends where picking a side and becoming horrible monsters or tragic victims and went "actually I'll pick one and just learn how to play the game until i'm untouchable". I love a man who was so afraid of death he decided he would just not die and then found a way to do it for decades without being found out. I love that he has all this terrifying fear power and he oftentimes uses it to know where there is cake in his institute.

He is a scholar. He is a boring boss. He is a smug evil prick who relishes into his evilness and power. He tells his employees to do admin to feel better. He sighs when he has to torture them because they keep try to kill him. He's impressed and horny when someone successfully challenges his expectations. His idea of comfort is to ask philosophical questions about humanity. He only starts to take actions in order to manipulate this one guy into being the key to his ritual and his equal.

I love a man who realized all the rituals meant nothing, went 'very well' and instead of like, calmly going 'this means i'm in peace" went "well i'm going to be the first one to succeed by thinking of what my good mentor had said once. they all need to be together, balanced out." and then he DID succeed. He did have his apocalypse. And it was glorious and he loved every second of horror it was.

I love a man who never once apologized for being selfish, evil, and power hungry, and embraced all his flaws quite so willingly. And who, at the end, dying, all of this going to dust, watched his most beautiful creation, his most perfect work, his legacy, rise to take his place as king,, and merely told him good luck.

#he even beat the narrative by staying unknown by the end of the podcast #going to attribute that to him chosing his own destiny instead of being mad at jonny again we never got his lifestory #beyond what HE was willing to tell us #the magnus archives #elias bouchard #jonah magnus #my beloved #the villain of a lifetime #who is ever going to beat jonah magnus in my heart

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thisismeracing · 1 year

Text

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 04

a/n: King of My Heart was supposed to be mainly a "normal" series, not much Social Media content, and though I like doing those chapters they limit my imagination at some point. So I decided to mix it, I'm going to alternate chapters, and we are gonna have the best of both worlds (or so I hope), seeing people react to Y/n and Mick's relationship but also having a privileged seat to watch their interactions and feelings unfold. This chapter is when their first interaction happened, a bit before the first chapter of the series. I hope you guys like it <3 let me know your thoughts and opinions.

Pairing: hamilton!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher

Warnings: curse words, fluff, not proofread etc etc. Minors DNI!

word count: 2.3k

part 03 | series masterlist | part 05

Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that's why, for the first time in forever, he throws cautious carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

When Mick saw Y/n for the first time, he was curious and speechless, both things that are involved in the process of blooming love. He had no idea at the time, though in his head, maybe he was just excited to be in a new environment, a place that would embrace him, teach him, and accept him for who he was, not for his father's legacy, or an expectation based on a remote reality.

When she entered the room, he knew people kept talking, working, and breathing, yet he had no idea how because for him, it was different, it was the first time he saw her, and she was suddenly the center of his attention. Big brown eyes stared around everything, nut-brown hair around her head like a halo, full lips, a round nose, and brown skin. Y/n was breathtaking, and he only noticed he was holding his when a friend touched his shoulder. Mick directed his gaze to Lewis for a split second, and he felt lucky he, too, was looking at her. Otherwise, the Mercedes driver would likely see the weird way in which his friend seemed lost. And, of course, his coworker was looking at her too. Who would not want to look at her? They had to be crazy not to. If given the opportunity, Mick would stare at that woman the whole day, and he did not even know her name. So, yes, in his mind, it could only be explained as a curiosity. Although he comprehended very well what kind of curiosity it was and that, he had never really felt that, quite the opposite, he was usually doing his own thing and minding his business, and new people were welcome. And he was friendly, but he was not the type of person to seek someone’s attention or friendship, at least not so fast, not so intently. Y/n was not only a new person, but she was the bearer of new and strange feelings in the pit of Mick’s stomach.

“Oh, she’s so sly, you see. She comes and goes around without people noticing. It scares me sometimes,” Hamilton spoke, smiling in her direction. Mick thought: how could she come and go unnoticed? The second the door opened, he could not take his eyes off her.

“It’s a matter of practice,” she replied with a small grin. The way her lips folded looked almost artistic, like the final brushstroke in a work of art, when everything seems to fit together to create the final result, the bigger picture, “Now, how’s my favorite brother doing?”

Mick did not even notice the way he finally took a breath of fresh air. She was not his friend’s girlfriend, although Mick did not know if her being his sister would make things any easier.

“I’m your only brother Y/n,” Lewis reminded, and she huffed as if he was pointing out something unnecessary.

“You can be my only and favorite brother, both things at the same time. Stop being so pokey,” she joked.

“Mick, this is Y/n, my baby sister,” he turned to Mick, who was able to recompose in seconds. He was a driver after all, he had to be fast and have good reflexes, “Y/n, this is Mick, my friend and work colleague.”

“Nice to meet you, Mick” She waved and made her grin wider, in fact, when their eyes met, her lips opened in a full big smile. It felt like watching a flower blossom, and it also felt like a gesture only for him.

“Likewise, Y/n.”

“I’ve heard you’re new around Mercedes. Welcome to the family.”

“Feels like it indeed,” he grinned, “A family, I mean.”

“It’s good to hear that. God knows this whole thing can be tough. You don’t need to have people making it worse,” she pointed, and that was all it took for Mick to know that Y/n was more than talkative, and honest. He was sure she would tell him the truth about whatever he asked, her genuine opinion, no holding backs.

Someone seemed to call Lewis, and he said something neither Y/n nor Mick could hear properly and then left. Her brown eyes were kept glued right into his ocean ones, almost daring him to deflect. He felt exposed to her, but in a good way, because for some reason, he wanted her to be capable of reading his thought through his eyes, “You’re, uh- it’s your first time in the paddock? I never saw you around before.”

She offers him a small smile, looks at someone in the back, waves, and then turns her attention to his face again, “Nah, I’m here all the time, just away from the cameras and most of the eyes.”

“Can I ask you why?”

She shrugged, “I mean, of course you can. Am I gonna answer, though? That’s a different question,” Y/n joked, and Mick could only smile brighter and roll his eyes.

“I- I’m just curious,” he seems to breathe for a second when their eyes lock again, “about you,” he finishes.

“Yeah, me too,” it’s a whisper like she is telling it to herself, acknowledging that she, too, wants to know every little detail about him. Her eyes divert to an engineer that passes them, her hands go up like the last time, and she gives a gentle wave. “I like to be myself. I mean, I like to be Y/n Y/l/n. I hope you don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my brother and our family, but in some circumstances, your name can be a blessing and a curse” Y/n’s eyes searched for his again. She was waiting for the short nod he gave. A confirmation he understood the situation too, a way of demonstrating that she could keep going because he knew there was more to come. “I didn't want people to pin my success on my brother’s name, to say I had it easier just because he made it. The media loves to do that with women, saying they only made it because of a man or trying to pin hard work and talent as luck.”

He nodded, “I get it. I used to do that when I was a bit younger, to use a different surname so people would not act differently or expect more than one hundred percent of me. It’s tiring. I can sympathize.”

“A Schumacher, huh?” Y/n tatters before adding, “My brother told me a bit of what went on. For the record, it’s their loss. I’m sorry you had to go through such heartless people, but I’m glad they let you go so you can be here now,” so we could meet, so I could feel like drowning in your blue eyes, so that my body would feel lighter, she thought.

“I’m happy to be here too. I don’t think I would change a thing,” Y/n watches as the tip of his tongue goes out to wet his pink, plush lips, the way his eyes dart quickly around her whole face.

“It gives you experience at the end of the day,” she is quick to point out, feeling a tad nervous.

Schumacher nods, and before he can ask one more question, to hear her quirk remarks one more time, someone shows up, calling him to look at something new they did in the car.

“See you around, Mick,” she gives him that same half smile from a work of art before she touches his arm when passing. He could swear he shivered with the feeling of her skin against his.

Y/n goes around, greeting some of the staff she is friends with before finally reaching Toto. He gives her a pointing look, and she rolls her eyes. The older man has always been really supportive of Y/n as well, they would always talk when she came to the paddock, and their conversations would go around about anything and everything. Yn always admired Toto’s leadership skills, and she was open about how she thought his kind of work not only asked you for the technical side but, most importantly, the human side. Toto was able to captivate Lewis, and he did just the same with Y/n. He was also one of the people who made sure her privacy and image were safe around the Mercedes garage. People respected him, so if Toto Wolff says, ‘nobody talks about the fact that Lewis has a sister and she’s here a lot’ that is precisely what happens: nobody would talk, or most of them would not. Y/n was aware her scheme of keeping this under wraps was collective work, and she was happy to be in a place where people liked her brother so much they chose to protect her too.

“You took forever to show up this year. What happened?” he asked, taking off his headphones.

“A lot is going on with work, I’m launching a new collection soon, and you know I like to be in every step of the process, right?”

“Literally,” he joked, pointing to her new shoes, which he knew were most likely from said new collection. Y/n would always use them as a test, making sure they were comfortable and safe for the customers.

She jokingly rolled her eyes before adding, “Yeah, exactly, but doing this is quite difficult sometimes, especially when you want to be attentive to the human side of those who work with you.”

“You’re doing a great job, and I’m proud of how far you’ve come since the first time you appeared here, a small kid determined to do her own name,” he held her chin high, smiling. “Let me know when this new collection drops. I’m sure Susie would love to get one of every shape and color.”

Her smile grew wider, she loved Susie Wolff, and she loved their love. They were very private, but Y/n has been around for long enough to know how big and strong their love is, and she enjoys watching it from the sidelines whenever they interact.

“I will be sure to send some exclusives for her.”

Toto gave her one of his side smiles and nodded before having to leave to attend to some problem, so Y/n made her rounds around, asking questions, interacting, and making sure to annoy her older brother every once in a while. She took some time aside and sat with some of the media crew to answer her work e-mails while they typed away creating content. It was refreshing to be in the Mercedes garage. The chaos worked perfectly well, and she always felt energized.

When work was done and, it was time to leave, Y/n bid her goodbyes and did a small search with her eyes for a blond mop of hair, which did not go unnoticed by her brother.

“He had to leave a bit earlier,” Lewis explained.

“What?” she asked, securing her laptop case and bag in one arm and starting her walk to the garage. Lewis knew it was her way of changing the subject, to shift the attention.

“You’re my sister,”

“It’s been twenty-one years. You would think this is an established fact by now,” Y/n was a fan of using humor as a coping mechanism too.

“Mick is a driver,” he adds.

“Yeah, he’s like your teammate too now, right?”

“He’s also my friend,” Lewis points.

“That’s good. He seems like a good friend to have around,” her curls bounce as she reaches his car and opens the back door to load her things there.

“You’re deflecting, Y/n.”

“And you are not stating your points with clarity, Lewis,” she let go of the door, shutting it in the sequence and opening the passenger one.

“I saw your interaction, saw your interest perhaps, you’re not aware of it, or you’re just trying to brush it off and lie to yourself, but I’m doing my job as the older brother and warning you: by dating someone famous you may have to give up some things, such as your privacy,” now they’re sitting inside the car, he’s facing her, and she’s looking ahead, a woof of air leaves her lips before she finally looks at her brother. “You know how the media is, and if they even sniff a new romance between you, a Hamilton, and Mick, a Schumacher, they won’t go easy. They will want all the details, and I trust the Mercedes people, but we don’t know everyone. There are new people always showing up. They can let it slip about you without intentions, share information without noticing.”

She opens her mouth to answer, but unlike the usual days, she doesn’t have anything ready to say.

“And don’t forget the fact that he is my coworker, Y/n. If anything goes down the wrong path, you will either have to face him daily or lose my races. You will have to face your heartbreak every day. Do you remember Jonathan from high school? How you missed a week of classes when that fucker dumped you?! And then you had to finish the year there anyways, had to sit in the same class as him.”

“And I changed schools by the end of the semester,” she adds with a small nod. She understands his point, and she even agrees to some extent. However, she wanted to add that it was a different context, that Anthony was a douche, he never really liked her, and nobody in that school really did, this being the reason she decided to leave. She was a lot of things but not a coward, though she knew that was not what her brother was saying. She felt like reminding herself.

“I’m just trying to take care of you. I would hate to watch you suffer,” his voice is soft, and so are his eyes and hands when they reach through the center console to lace their fingers.

There’s a small smile of appreciation on her lips, “I love you, and I love how careful you are with me, but I’m not a kid anymore” She tightens her grip on his hand, and they share an attentive and agreeing look for some seconds when she adds, “And Mick is not Jonathan.”

“That’s what scares me.”

***********************

Make sure to have your age in your profile if you want to be part of the taglist! Don't forget to reblog and let me know your thoughts about this chapter <3 see ya next time *mwah*

wanna be tagged on my stories? click here

#king of my heart ms47 #f1 imagine #mick schumacher imagine #hamilton!reader #black!reader #mick schumacher x reader #black!reader x f1 #mick schumacher x black!reader #famous!reader #ms47

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svltzmans · 8 months

Text

paint the town red - h.m.

a/n: this was a request and i had so much fun writing it!! i also got to write some supernatural elements which is the best lmao. writing these hope fics makes me want to rewatch legacies so bad 😭 but anyway i hope you guys like this

warnings: smut (18+), vampire biting, mention of blood, semi-public sex

hope wakes up in the middle of the night absolutely ravenous.

beside her, her girlfriend breathes lightly in her sleep. hope smiles to herself before gently getting up, determined not to disturb her.

making her way to the kitchen, she grabs a blood bag from the fridge. she knows it's nowhere near as good as the real thing, but she settles nonetheless.

her eyes glow bright green when she punctures the bag with her teeth, finding immediate relief in her midnight snack.

"hope?"

y/n had woken up shortly after hope had gotten out of bed, feeling the emptiness beside her. she didn't have to look for long before finding her exactly where she thought she'd be.

"what are you doing up?" hope questions, still in the middle of her bag.

y/n approaches hope from behind, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her into a hug.

"i felt you leave. missed you," she says sleepily, resting her head on hope's shoulder.

hope embraces the contact, leaning gently into y/n.

"didn't want to wake you," hope responds, kissing y/n's forehead.

in the midst of their conversation, y/n notices that hope's eyes are still aglow, and that the points of her teeth are still visible just beyond her lips.

y/n's attraction to her girlfriend is apparent based on the way her cheeks become as red as hope's blood bag.

she's sure hope doesn't notice, despite their close proximity.

"can we go back to bed now?" y/n asks, her exhaustion catching up to her.

"c'mere," hope coos, picking y/n up bridal style to bring her back to bed.

ever since hope turned into a fully activated tribrid, these "midnight snack" excursions had become a common thing for her. sometimes she just couldn't go back to sleep until she fed, and she had to give into her compulsions.

y/n didn't always wake up with her, but hope had caught her watching from the doorway on more than one occasion.

at first, hope thought that y/n was just interested in her tribrid status, but it slowly became clear that it was much more than that.

even though she's sure she has it figured out, hope doesn't want to assume anything. she knows she has to figure out a plan to confirm her suspicions.

it doesn't take hope long to figure out what she wants to do.

during one of hope and y/n's weekly movie nights, hope decides to put her plan into action.

"y/n, i'm hungry," hope playfully whines, immediately getting her girlfriend's attention.

"wanna order something? or we could go cook together," y/n offers a solution, still halfway paying attention to the television.

"i have a better idea," hope whispers, leaning in closer to y/n.

"what's that?" y/n acts clueless, even though she knows where this is headed, and she couldn't be more thrilled about it.

hope gently picks up y/n's wrist, lightly kissing it before looking up at her.

"may i?"

y/n swears she's dreaming. she's had many dreams like this, usually ending in hope pushing her down on the kitchen counter.

"please," y/n finally responds, giving hope her most intense heart eyes.

grabbing hold of y/n's other hand, hope exposes her fangs and gives y/n the most gentle bite she possibly can.

y/n gasps at the initial sting, but before she knows it she's letting out soft moans. hope is absolutely dizzying, and it's not from the loss of blood.

when hope pulls away, y/n's heart is pounding in her ears.

"it seems like you enjoyed that just as much as i did, hm?" hope teases, healing the small wound that developed on y/n's wrist.

y/n feels frozen in time, and hope is the only thing she can think about. as hope tries to keep watching the movie the two had started, y/n is entirely distracted.

long after the pair had fallen asleep, hope wakes up again, the same urge to feed pushing her up and to the kitchen.

she walks delicately out of the room to avoid waking y/n, even though she knows it's no use. y/n always knows when she leaves, and hope finds it adorable.

and like clockwork, she appears in the doorway, sleepiness apparent in her eyes. hope's eyes glow brighter at the sight of her girlfriend.

hope stops mid-bloodbag to greet her. "hi beautiful," she beams, her teeth still excessively sharp.

"hi," y/n replies, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"someone's sleepy, huh?"

"come back to bed."

"i'm hungry."

memories of hours ago come back to y/n, and she feels a knot forming in her stomach.

"what, i didn't hold you over?" she teases, hoping to get a reaction out of hope.

something in hope snaps at that, and she picks y/n up, sitting her down on the counter.

"hope, what are you d-"

before y/n can finish, hope's lips are on hers and they're making out in the kitchen of the salvatore school.

"hope, jesus, someone could see us."

"don't care. wanna taste you. not talking about your wrist this time," hope replies between kisses.

"but the bed is so much more comfortable for you to-"

"need you right now," hope slurs, and that's enough for y/n to oblige.

within seconds, hope has y/n naked from the waist down, legs spread on the kitchen counter.

"i can't believe you," y/n giggles, honestly quite nervous about their current position.

"the quieter you are, the less likely we are to get caught," hope replies, her voice sultry as she kisses y/n's inner thighs.

the second hope's mouth makes contact with y/n, it's game over.

the noises she can't help but make are obscene. hope is incredible at going down on y/n, and she's reminded of that tenfold every time.

hope briefly pulls away. "you're so gorgeous. what did i say about being quiet, though?"

y/n mumbles an apology but whines in protest. "please just keep going."

hope doesn't oppose, but she moves her tongue agonizingly slowly.

"hope... more, please," y/n pleads, not caring about keeping her composure any longer.

"i like when you beg," hope mutters against her, finally picking up the pace once again.

y/n is painfully close, and she knows it. she desperately tries to keep her orgasm at bay, wanting to prolong this moment as much as possible.

"god, hope, so good," she encourages, her hand resting in hope's hair.

it's at that moment that hope looks directly up at y/n, her glowing tribrid eyes piercing into hers.

the look hope gives her sends her over the edge, biting her lip to withhold as much noise as possible.

as y/n's breathing slows and her heart rate returns to normal, hope stands up, helping her get down and back onto her feet.

hope gently puts y/n's pajamas back on for her, and pushes her hair behind her ear.

"you okay?" she asks, resting her hand on y/n's cheek.

"much better than okay. but sleepy. can we go back to bed now?"

"anything for you. did such a great job for me."

hope takes y/n's hand as they head back upstairs, settling back into bed.

"oh, and hope?"

"yeah?"

"are you still hungry?"

a/n: its the middle of the night and i'm awake for some reason and was DETERMINED to finish this

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #wlw #legacies #legacies x reader #hope mikaelson imagine #hope mikaelson smut #the originals x reader #hope mikaelson x fem reader

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gepardling · 9 months

Note

what if reader had a one night stand w gepard? for him it was his first time and he can’t forget about reader and longs to see her again🧐

fleeting embers w/ gepard.

desc. : the once-a-week upload schedule will b customary while i am back at university sowwy ♥︎ i had fun wit dis 1 !! it was very cute writing geppie's reaction :) i kept the ending open-ended for now ( wc : 1.3k )

tags / cw : sfw (implications of sex), fluff-ish (more flirty), gepard is struggling mentally (real), gn!reader, not proofread

Gepard values his pristine reputation. He is a man of discipline, and despite his lineage, worked hard to get where he is in life. Growing up in the shadow of his family's name was no easy feat. Expectations were high, and the weight of their legacy could have overwhelmed a lesser soul. However, Gepard embraced the challenge with unwavering resolve. He wanted to stand tall on his own merits, with accomplishments that were truly his own.

It wasn't just his physical prowess that defined him. Gepard's true strength lay in his unyielding sense of honor and duty. He held himself to the highest standards, refusing to compromise on his principles. It was this unwavering integrity that earned him the respect of his fellow guards and commanders alike. In a world where corruption and deceit were not uncommon, Gepard stood as a beacon of righteousness.

Yet, amidst his unwavering dedication to his role as a Silvermane Guard, Gepard was still human. Behind that stoic facade, there lay a heart that longed for connection and understanding. He yearned for companionship, but the fear of compromising his professional image held him back. Relationships, especially romantic ones, were delicate territory for someone in his position.

Despite his discipline, Gepard had a tendency to struggle with resisting peer pressure, especially when it came to bonding with his fellow Silvermane Guards. He was often urged to join his comrades for a night of camaraderie and revelry, but the fear of things going awry held him back. However, after much persistent begging from his brothers in arms, Gepard finally gave in and decided to join them for a night of drinks.

Though he remained mindful of his intake, the warmth of the alcohol seemed to soften his resolve ever so slightly. Surrounded by the laughter and camaraderie of his comrades, Gepard found himself feeling more at ease than he had in a long time. In this vulnerable moment, he crossed paths with a captivating stranger. Your mischievous gaze and gentle laugh charmed him, subtly breaking down those walls he kept up around his heart.

Uncharacteristically, Gepard allowed himself to be swept away by the night's events, giving in to the spontaneity of the moment. It was an unexpected and impulsive decision, one that he would later come to question. As the night wore on, the connection deepened, and boundaries blurred. He followed you through the city like a lost puppy, the subtle wave of your hand beckoning him to follow you to the nearest hotel.

As the first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains, Gepard slowly stirred from his slumber, his mind foggy from the previous night's events. For a moment, he struggled to make sense of his surroundings, and as his eyes adjusted, he was met with an unfamiliar sight. This was not his own bedroom. Panic shot through him like a bolt of lightning, and he sat up abruptly, his heart pounding in his chest.

It all came rushing back to him in a whirlwind of emotions and fragmented memories. The Goethe hotel room, the intoxicating laughter, the captivating stranger who had drawn him in with such ease. It was his first time, and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He had crossed a boundary he never thought he would, and now he was waking up in a bed that was not his own.

The silence of the room was deafening as he tried to collect his thoughts. He didn't even know the name of the person who shared this intimate moment with him. The fear of the unknown gnawed at him, and he couldn't help but wonder what might have transpired during the night. Had he done something he would regret? Did he say things he shouldn't have?

Gepard's mind raced, but before he could unravel the full extent of the situation, there was a soft knock on the door. His heart leaped into his throat, and he hesitated before calling out a cautious "Yes?" but he realized a moment too late that his naked form was covered with one measly sheet.

The door creaked open, and the Goethe hotel receptionist peeked inside. Their gaze met, and Gepard could feel the weight of their unspoken question. The receptionist's silent stare peered over the rim of their glasses, right into Gepard’s soul. It was a glance that made his heart sink even further into his stomach.

With a professional smile, the receptionist simply said, "Breakfast will be served in the dining area shortly, sir. Please take your time." Then they closed the door, leaving Gepard alone with his thoughts. In that moment, Gepard couldn't help but feel a sense of shame and embarrassment. The awkward encounter was just his luck, and it was definitely not the image he wanted people to remember.

As he got up from the bed, he found a note left by the stranger, a name signed at the bottom. Mixed emotions surged within him as he read the name, his full memory of the night crashing down on him all at once. He remembered the gentle touch of your hands, your plush thighs, gentle kisses. His cheeks flared when he realized he had done things he didn’t even know he was capable of. But despite all this, the image of your face remained clouded.

After getting dressed, leaving the hotel was difficult enough. Every staff member he passed sent him a knowing glance – the walk of shame. Not only that, but he found out that you made the tab to be in his name, leaving him to pay for the hotel room. The receptionist could only shrug in response, once again peeking at him over their glasses.

In the days that followed the memorable night, Gepard found it increasingly difficult to focus on his duties as a Silvermane Guard. His mind would often drift back to you, and despite his best efforts to maintain composure, the memories of that night would creep into his thoughts at the most inconvenient times, causing an embarrassing blush to spread across his cheeks.

On patrol, he would catch himself daydreaming, his mind wandering into unsavory territory, replaying moments he had shared with you. It was a constant battle to keep his thoughts in check, especially when he had to interact with others and couldn't afford any distractions. He cursed himself for letting his guard down, for allowing himself to be swept away by a night of passion that was now becoming a source of distraction.

But amid the embarrassment and the struggle to keep his thoughts under control, there was a part of Gepard that couldn't help but smile at the memories. As the days passed, he found himself cherishing those moments with you, the connection he had felt, and the vulnerability he had allowed himself to experience. It was both thrilling and terrifying, and he couldn't deny the longing that still lingered in his heart.

However, he couldn't bring himself to ask around about you. The fear of others finding out about the night you had shared made him hesitate. He was afraid of the judgment and the speculation that might come with such revelations. Not only that, but all he knew was your name and the bar you had met at. So, instead, he kept his thoughts to himself, burying them deep within his heart.

As the days turned into weeks, the marks you had left on Gepard started to fade. The blush on his cheeks grew less frequent, and he tried to convince himself that he was moving on from that night. He focused on his duties with renewed determination, pushing himself harder to distract from the memories that threatened to resurface. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't completely forget you.

Locked in conversation with another Silvermane Guard, his heart skipped a beat as he heard your voice echo from around the corner. He came to an abrupt halt as he instinctively turned his attention towards the source of the sound. He felt a rush of emotions flood back, memories of that unforgettable night intertwining with the present moment.

For the first time, he could remember your face, the glint in your eyes and that signature smile that punctuated the evening. But reality quickly pulled him back, and his heart pounded in his chest as he wrestled with his emotions. He knew he couldn't let himself get lost in the past, not now, not when he had responsibilities to uphold.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to regain his composure, forcing a smile as he turned back to his fellow guard. "Sorry about that," he said, trying to sound casual despite the lingering tremor in his voice. "What were we talking about again?"

will geppie go after you? or will he finally let you go?? (we win these)

#gepard fluff #gepard x reader #gepard x you #gepard landau #gepard hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #♥︎ | milky writes #♥︎ | request

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star-girl69 · 1 year

Note

Hii are you taking requests rn? If so can I request a jake x neytiri x fem omatikaya! Reader fic where Jake and Neytiri have a fat crush on y/n but don’t really know how to go about telling her and they end up being really awkward about it. Maybe like they stumble over their words around her and the couple become an awkward mess trying to hint that they like her? Reader isn’t dumb tho and she can tell and admits she likes them too 🤭 would be super cute if it was a really fluffy fic!

Drink Your Poison (I’ll Kiss it Out)

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: a lot of facts about pandoran wildlife is incorrect and i apologize for that, i’m just too lazy to go back and change it. and i doubt it takes someone this much time to learn archery but… for the sake of the plot! also this is just obscenely long.

also i’m so sorry anon this fic just went off the rails 😭😭😭😭

warnings: animal death, mentions of death, near death experience, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of blood and injury, mentions of poison, angst, swearing, light fighting, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“My mother…” Neytiri starts, head on her mate’s shoulder, fingertips circling absentmindedly across his chest. “Wants us to teach her friend’s daughter how to hunt and fight.”

It is late summer, autumn starting to creep in. It’s is cold as the look at the stars, the summer is getting cooler, but they are warm on the other’s embrace.

“Why do we gotta do it?” Jake groans, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Neytiri shrugs, sees a wisp from the spirit tree fly above them.

—-

Every morning, you rise when the sun does. Wash your face in a bowl of water, eat quick, dress, and sling your bow over your shoulder to head out into the brightness.

The sun always shines straight in your eyes, and this morning is no different.

You look towards your left, to the forest, find Jake and Neytiri waiting for you.

You father had been a great warrior, but you had never excelled in the art of it. Once he died, your mother had been insistent that somebody carry on the family legacy- being the best hunter in the clan. With no other siblings to speak of, she forced training upon training on you, but it never took.

Until, finally, she confided in Mo’at about her issue.

Mo’at, knowing that Jake and Neytiri were still young, still needed practice. She decided that teaching you could be a sort of test for them- if they could teach you how to hunt, then surely they could lead the clan?

Every morning, you walked begrudgingly over to them, groaning all the way. It was not your fault you preferred other things to hunting, not your fault that you were not born for it like your father was. But, your mother was insistent, and you loved her.

You slap a fake smile onto her face you come into earshot of them, and Jake smiles widely and greets you. Neytiri sends you a tight lipped smile, but you do not mind. None of you want to be here, Neytiri is just not as good as putting on a show.

You look at Jake as his face turned serious, and he takes your bow from your hands. You’re a bit put off by his actions, but in the week they have been teaching you, you have come to learn that Jake often has a plan for each moment he makes. Everything is intentional.

He points to the string.

“What is this called?”

He smiles as you roll your eyes, giving you and expectant look.

“Really?” you ask, feeling like a child.

“What is this?” he simply asks again, and you sigh.

“The string.”

“Good. And this?”

It continues on until you have named all the parts of how correctly, and Jake smiles.

“Good girl,” he praises, and although your stomach flips in a way it shouldn’t, you have grown used to the names he calls you.

“Yes,” Neytiri says, sliding off of the large rock she was sitting on. “You did well. You are ready.”

You face lights up, the prospect of this early morning torture ending making your heart twist.

“Just to shoot,” she says, but smiles at your disappointed look.

Due to their duties, your lessons are early in the morning and quite short, so your training takes triple the time than it would someone learning from your old teacher.

“Soon,” Jake tries, handing you the bow, and you can only bite back a grumble as you trudge through the forest.

—-

It is the third day of shooting when it finally happens.

You had been waiting all this time, for the pressure to get to you, for you to snap and fall, break apart.

You are being held together by the stems of flowers, so close to breaking, the air permeated by the sound of its slow rip.

You trudge through the woods yet again, feeling defeated before you had even started. In theory, you should be an expert at the bow.

You know each part of it, your stance is perfect, and yet you can never quiet hit the bullseye.

You feel like a stupid child, and you curse the day your father died. If he had not died so early, left so much ambiguity, perhaps your mother would not be scrambling for pieces of him in you.

It is a heavy weight to carry, and your back is breaking under the pressure.

You sigh as you face the target, Jake watching your stance.

“Good, good. Try moving your foot a bit forward- yes, perfect. Atta girl.”

You send a silent prayer to Eywa, more so a plea, begging to hit the bullseye just once. So you can go home and tell your mother, and perhaps she will start to heal, perhaps she will let you be you.

“You’re too tense,” Neytiri notes, and your eyes are already blurry with tears.

“‘M not,” you mutter, and she clicks her tongue.

“You cannot shoot if you mind is elsewhere. Hunting is as physical as it is mental. What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” you hiss. You can no longer slap a smile onto your face, pretend it is all well. The clearing falls silent, and you only feel more stupid, more worthless. “Can I shoot?” you ask through the silence, voice choked up.

“Yeah,” Jake whispers, and your arrow cuts through the tension as you release it.

But, with your blurry eyes and tense muscles, the arrow sinks into the drift below the target, missing the bullseye. Missing the bullseye.

It takes a second for it to sink in, for your eyes to clear enough of the salt to even see where the arrow had landed. But, you see it, and you have never felt like more of a failure.

Tears fall down your face, like the final decrescendo of a song, and you are filled with an overwhelming self hate.

Soon, you cannot see in front of you again, and the bow is falling to the ground and your hands are coming to you face, pressing against your mouth as you choke back a loud sob.

Why can’t you be like you father? Why cant you be what your mother needs you to be?

Your cries are loud as they fill the clearing, and you don’t stop until a warm hand rests on your shoulder.

Like the recoil of the string after you let go of the arrow, you snap into place, spine straight. You turn, saying how sorry you are, desperate to push past whoever is stopping you and run back to your bed.

Is it wrong to hide there forever, pretend you have never seen a bow before, pretend the pressures of your mother don’t exist?

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, head tucked into your chest, throwing your hands out blindly as you try to push past. “for- for wasting your-” you breathe in heavily, practically heaving, barely breathing.

“Y/N,” a voice says, and arms wrap around your biceps, holding you in place. “Y/N, deep breaths,” it says, and you look up to find Jake staring down at you, concern in his eyes.

You cease your struggling, let yourself sag against him, and he places his head on top of yours, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You est presses against his chest, a heartbeat thundering in your ears, much softer than what is happening in your own chest.

Suddenly, Neytiri fills your field of vision, placing a hand on the side of your face. Her voice fills your ear, and anchor back to the ground, and it takes you a moment to realize what she is saying.

“You have to breathe, Y/N. Breathe,” she urges, placing her hand over her chest and breathing in deeply, exaggerated, movements big, encouraging you to copy her.

With shaky movements, shaky breath, you manage one, then another, then another.

“What is wrong, Y/N?” she finally asks, and you screw your eyes shut, pushing away from Jake, embarrassed and foolish.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, face still damp with tears. “I- I should go,” you say, but Jake stops you with a pointed look. “It’s not your responsibility to help me.”

“We would not ask if we didn’t want to help you.” Jake replies, and perhaps it if selfish, but you have been bottling everything up.

You take a breath. “My father was a great warrior. My mother- when he died, she wanted someone to carry on his legacy. I have no siblings, so it was up to me.” You let out a dry laugh. “And you see- I am nothing with a bow. And I tell her, and she says I am just not trying hard enough. I am tired of living under her pressures, and I just- I couldn’t do it, not today.”

“You do not deserve to have the legacy of your father pushed on you, Y/N. I’m sorry, truly,” Jake says.

“When my father died,” Neytiri starts, cutting through the silence that had fallen. “My mother put not pressure on me. I put it all onto myself, because I carried his bow and promised to protect The People. I know what it is like for your back to break like that, Y/N. And you shouldn’t have to suffer.”

You look her up and down, and she does the same, her expression changing, tone softening, almost as if she has realized something new to you that has been there the entire time. Like she was seeing you in a different light.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and Jake softly smacked your shoulder.

“Atta girl,” he said, and it felt different this time.

—-

The next week was peaceful, with Jake and Neytiri off visiting another clan. You didn’t have to wake up as early, and slowly, the embarrassment at your breakdown faded.

They were so far away, taking your thoughts with them. You didn’t see your mother much, you made it your mission to get out of the tent as much as possible, stay away from her, lest you broke down in front of her. You couldn’t take that again, not so soon.

You felt like you were floating through life, praying to Eywa for some guidance, something to ground you to the earth.

In return, two people filled your mind. Your dreams, your waking moment. They filled you, and you thought about them constantly.

Washing your clothes, collecting food, something persistent: I miss them, I want them.

It was what your blood sung, what rested in your heart. As the days stretched on, your fondness only grew and grew, days blending until it was the day the arrived. You didn’t see them, but you knew they would come the next morning to train you.

(You dreamt about them.)

—-

Your morning routine was slightly less soul-crushing, you mused.

Regardless of the crush you realized you had on the two, you did genuinely want to see them. And, hopefully, they would want to see you too.

Something had connected you the day you broke down, giving the three of you a common denominator, peeling back some layers, new parts showing through.

Something had changed, and you knew it and yet didn’t know it.

You slung your bow over your shoulder, moving aside the flap of the tent, only to be met with blue. When you looked up, Jake was in front of you, smiling down sweetly.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, and you swear you saw him bite his tongue. His eyes turned to your bow next. “You won’t be needing that today.”

You backed up, so you didn’t have to crane your neck to look at him, before taking the bow into your hands suspiciously.

You noticed Neytiri then, when she spoke, appearing nearly out of nowhere. “Really,” she smiles, eyes trailing up and down. “You do not need it.”

Quickly, you rush back into your tent, throwing the bow to the ground and saying a silent thank-you to Eywa, coming back outside before the two could change their mind.

—-

“We still have to train you. We made a promise. But, we thought to give you a break, no?” you nod as Jake speaks, playing with the knife he had given you as the two lead you through the forest.

“A sturmbeest was here yesterday,” Neytiri says, ears perked up and tail swishing. Her bow is huge, the one of the late Olo’eykan. Orange and red, you think it is about as tall as a human. “The hunting party failed to capture it. But I am better than them,” she gloats, looking at you over her shoulder, almost to make sure you heard.

You smile, and she does as well, before putting a finger to her lips and turning back towards the forest. The only sounds you can hear are of faint footsteps, birds calling, the forest aching and moving as it wakes.

Neytiri leads the two of you into the forest, until she stops and beckons you over. When you stand next to her, close, the surrounding bush making it hard not to, you see what she is looking at. With you limited knowledge, even you know that is some sort of animal print.

Neytiri crouches low, touching the wide part of the footprint, easily embedded into the soft dirt below.

“The front of a sturmbeest’s foot is wider than the back. So… the sturmbeest is heading south.” You nod, trying to commit her words to memory.

You and Jake follow her silently, until the sound something moving surprises you. You turn around, only to find that it is Jake moving the gun from his back into his hands. You hadn’t even noticed it.

“Thanator territory,” he says, barely a whisper. But you hear him and nod, look out at the forest wearily. You haven’t seen a Thanator up close, only the dead body of a small one. But you have heard stories of them, know how big they can get.

Suddenly, Neytiri raises her hand, kneeling before a fallen tree trunk. The two of you come close to her, foliage providing cover, all squished together on the small log. Elbows stick out and touch, and you swear you could reach out and collect the tension in your hands.

“Got you,” Neytiri whispers, silently placing an arrow into her bow. Her form is impeccable , and she is unwavering, strong and beautiful and fueling your stupid crush my just existing.

She pulls her arm back, breathes out, and lets the arrow fly. It’s soars through the air, wind whistling, meeting its target and sinking into flesh before the sturmbeest can react.

The sturmbeest calls out and falls to the ground, Neytiri managing to hit that perfect place.

She is a force, you think, as she jumps over the log, knife in hand, kneeling before the sturmbeest and whispering to it. Thanking it for its sacrifice, thanking Eywa. Finally, she sinks her knife into that death spot, and the animal stops it’s squirming.

The forest is quiet for a moment, until Jake leans downs to get a closer look at the beast.

“Good job,” he says, and Neytiri seems unmoved by his compliment. She turns to you, slightly smug, bow in her hands.

“That is how you do it, hm?”

You laugh while Jake calls in the kill, pressing the black cord around his neck and speaking into it. He tells you they’ll stay until the human flying machine can come to you. He calls it something else, but the words are foreign on your tongue and make you feel odd.

Instead, you take to exploring, keeping the clearing in sight, fooling around and observing the flora and fauna of Pandora.

You fainting heard Jake and Neytiri talking, the regular movement of the forest, but that all faded as you heard loud footsteps. Hundreds of them, raining down like a violent storm, each footstep like the pitter-patter of rain. It was like you had angered Eywa, and she had come for her revenge.

You knew whatever was coming would tear through the bushes soon, forcing a path, creating at path. But you were frozen in fear, paralyzed of the sound, like thunder in the ground.

Suddenly, you were tugged to the side, behind a tree, pressed tight against someone. Instinctively, you pushed into them, fight or flight taking over, and whoever your savior was smelled like the forest, like home.

You screw your eyes shut, winding your arms around your savior’s neck, until the thunder stops, and the forest is still again.

“Are you okay?” when you look up, it is Jake who saved you.

—-

“Today,” Jake starts, leaning against a tree, “we thought you should try shooting with a different bow.”

“Really?” you muse. “A different bow is going to fix all of my problems?”

“Well- it’s not-” he stutters, and you feel a little mean.

“I was joking, Jake.” You crack a smile to soften the blow, but he still inwardly cringes and looks away.

You have noticed, ever since you cried in front of them, ever since the stampede where Jake had saved you, you noticed. The stuttering words, the odd looks, the way Neytiri smiled at you more and more with each day. A week had passed, and it only became more and more everyday. Overwhelming in the best way.

It confused you. Excited you. But you knew.

It was obvious they liked you- and you certainly had no qualms about it. Triads were uncommon among the people, but not unheard of. Accepted, most definitely. That was no problem to you. But it was the way they were so awkward.

You never imagined yourself being the one to make the first move, but you wanted them, even just for a night. If they were not going to do it, then you must.

—-

“You know, we’re practically best friends with all the time we spend together, yet we don’t really know anything about each other.”

Neytiri looks up at you from below you, crouched down, adjusting your stance by your hips.

“Why- why would you want to know us?”

“Because you’re my best friends, obviously.”

Jake laughs, shaking his head as sharpens his knife.

“No, I’m serious! My life is this: morning lessons with you two, breakfast, chores, and then I just try and avoid my mother until supper.”

Neytiri smiles, standing up after your hips are where she would like them to me, taking a step back to check her stance. But you have gotten used to this- her eyes go where they don’t have to, stay in places longer than they need too. It seems more like she’s admiring you. But she’s so subtle, you barely realize.

“That is lonely.” Neytiri is blunt, but you take no offense to it. You know how lonely it sounds, you know how lonely it is.

That’s why they are much more than your friends, something more, in between, they are your saviors. Not only literally, but figuratively. Without their lessons, their conversations, without them to dream about during the night and day- anytime, all the time- you would go crazy.

“Come over,” and the words are a fever dream, and you are fever dream, unreal, metaphysical.

“What?”

“Come over,” Jake repeats, and Neytiri is looking at the slope of your neck, prominent in your archery stance. “Tomorrow, dinner.”

Your heart is in your chest.

“If- if you want to.”

You smile, because he was doing so well, but it’s alright. It’s endearing, sweet.

“Yeah.”

Neytiri takes a step back. “Shoot.”

You do, and you miss, but you didn’t really. Not in the way it matters.

—-

The next day, nothing is out of the ordinary. The same lingering looks, the same feeling in your chest, until you are just about to leave.

“An hour before eclipse? I’m a good cook, promise.”

“Yes,” you say, losing the war, the war to them, that you never wanted to win anyways.

—-

You wonder if they even know what they do to you.

If they know how you feel, if they even know how they feel themself.

Do they know there are stars on their skin? A feeling in your heart, like an arrow has been shot into it? But it’s not painful, not like it sounds. It’s a beautiful feeling. A lovely feeling. It’s misleading like that, like them.

Your heart is aching and as you sit with them, roasted sturmbeest in your hands- the one Neytiri caught that day- the conversation is pleasant. Not want you what.

With each swallow, each bite past your lips, each awkward bate in talking it is like you are sitting at a table, licking your lips, empty poison bottle in your hands. But it tastes so good, and you wish you could share. But you won’t share. You can’t share. Not when it’s yours, only yours, and it should always stay like that.

Your feelings only grow at the dinner table, more certain that all you want them to do is eat you up, swallow you whole, but it’s no problem; you know you’ll be safe.

Jake hands you a wrapped up piece of dried sturmbeest, smiles and says to add some poison before you give it to your mother. Neytiri hits him, and it’s a cruel joke, but you find it in yourself to smile.

Like a feedback loop, with the rise of your feelings comes the doubt of theirs. Each soft smile, each “you can come over whenever you want,” only makes something slip into your mind. Until you realize.

“I just- I just wanted to say- I’m not something you need to pity.”

Jake smiles, looks taken aback. “Why would you think that?”

“Yes,” Neytiri says, smile fading from her face, confusion creeping into her voice.

“Listen,” you tuck your chin to your chest, you never should have said anything, “this was really nice, really fun? I like you two, but I’m- I’m not a toy for you to play with.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jake says. “You’re tired. Take the day off tomorrow-”

“No! What?” you huff, ignoring the butterflies on your stomach when he places a hand on your shoulder. You shove him off, but it hurts to do it. Hurts to be away from him, now that you’ve got one taste.

“My Jake-” Neytiri starts, but you are annoyed, frustrated that they won’t just make a move, frustrated that they probably don’t even see you that way.

“I’m not tired. I know what I am, what I want.” Your eyes flick between them as you say it, venom on your lips, poison bubbling up.

“What does that mean?” Neytiri asks, eyes narrowing, but you have dug your own grave and you cannot dove out now. Your only hope is to keep digging, find some other side.

“It means I know what I want. Unlike some people.”

“Unlike us?” Jake crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you saying, Y/N?”

“I’m saying it’s rude to lead people on. I’m saying it’s rude to make me think- only for me to be a pity case.”

His eyes darken, and he takes a step forward.

“Make you think what?”

“You know!” you shout, even though you don’t know if he does.

“Say it,” Neytiri whispers, fire in her eyes, coming closer to you, next to Jake now, past him. She is right in front of you, and so beautiful, and you have already drunk your poison.

“Don’t wanna talk.”

Then you crash your lips onto hers, because who cares if you life will be ruined? You want it just once, before you go crazy, because you can live without the touches, the looks, but you have to have a little taste just once.

Just as the novelty of the moment wears off, and it is simply you kissing Neytiri, Jake watching, and you feel small and stupid. Stupid for ever thinking any of this was what is was.

You pull away, cheeks hot, anger in your chest, poison in your throat, when Jake’s finger hook under your chin and tug your head up, and it is perfect and everything, and he tastes like the forest, like the joke you have always know, will only ever know.

You will only ever know this. The feel of their lips on yours.

When he pulls back, you are wide eyed and breathless, disbelieving. You feel like someone will come around the corner, point at you and laugh.

“We didn’t know-” he starts.

“I knew.”

Jake’s face falls, turning a little less worried, into a small smile.

“That obvious?”

“Painfully.”

“Y/N.” Her hands on yours are not foreign, but the tenderness in them is strange. You have known her touch before, but not like this. “We want to court you. Properly. We spoke, and we- we both want…you.”

And you are floating, gone from this world, so fucking overjoyed because it happened. What you have wanted for weeks, what you have know, what you have doubted.

You feel otherworldly, still out of breath, oxygen deprived. You would kiss them forever, die in them, but you couldn’t risk them getting hurt.

You feel like Eywa has given you something good, like your bad luck has ended- and you have never been more grateful than now.

Neytiri grabs your biceps, squeezes once, almost as if to say ‘yes, this is real’, before her hands come to your wrist. Wrap around, move you like a rag doll to hang around the back of your neck.

You can see Jake stand behind her, closer enough to touch his chest when you extend your fingers, just the fingertips, not enough, too much, overwhelming.

“I feel like there is poison in me,” you confess, high off the moment, off of them.

Neytiri places a kiss on the curve of your jaw.

“Let me kiss it out,” she whispers against your skin. “Let us.”

—-

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

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thesweetnessofspring · 5 months

Note

while we’re being sad, when Katniss does pass (and I can’t imagine it’s too long after her beloved) what is said of her? what legacy does Granny Katniss leave on Panem? and then, because the idea of her being at true peace gets me, what do(es) the first moment(s) of her “sweet old hereafter” look like?

Well this is an interesting question! Katniss will always be a historical figure in Panem, and I don't think it's incorrect to compare her to the likes of Joan of Arc, Elizabeth I, Rosa Parks, or any of the incredible women who have made history.

I think that like those women, there will be the Katniss Everdeen of the history books. The simple story for propaganda, to cover up any ugliness remaining. The story of the girl who volunteered for her sister, overcame all with her true love, and had the wisdom to put an end to the leader that would have taken Panem in the same direction as before, and then decided to live a quiet life in her home district as an example to all of how safe and wonderful Panem became.

It will be the historians and history buffs who dig into the story more. Who raise questions about who this Gale Hawthorne was to Katniss really and the validity of the claim she was pregnant during the Quell. They'll pour over the court records and sort through writings of Katniss and her companions, her enemies, her admirers. Video footage will be analyzed and looked at for clues about what was really going on with Peeta that whole time. They'll interview people who knew her as Mrs. Mellark and comb for all details.

When there are people around who remember her, they'll talk about how she never seemed like that figure from what they learned in school. She was just Katniss Mellark, best shot in Twelve with a garden to envy and a knack with the children. It was everyone else that made a fuss about her. But as time goes on, the memorium to what she did becomes what Twelve is known best for, and they embrace it all. Some for the history, some for the money. Some for both.

Now Katniss at rest, if we take the belief that her spirit goes on, will be met by three people: her father, her sister, and her husband. She holds the first two tighter and longer, since it's taken more time for this reunion to come. Then Peeta takes her hand and says, "I have a friend I want you to meet." She thinks of the old childhood friends Peeta lost in the bombs, but a young woman with black hair and a rainbow skirt gives a curtsy and says, "Hello, darling. I'm Lucy Gray Baird, and I'm so happy to finally make your acquaintance."

#katniss everdeen #thg headcanons #and you're right she doesn't last much longer than peeta

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hoyowomentournament · 27 days

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Quarterfinals: Bronya Zaychik vs Collei

(Propaganda under the cut)

Bronya Zaychik:

revamping this bc i feel like it could be better: i love her so so bad <3. canonically disabled lesbian who has trouble with feeling intense emotions BUT HER ENTIRE CHARACTER REVOLVES AROUND LOVE!! whether it be from her romantic love of seele in the early game/manhua (it being the primary motivation for her to take care of herself and a partial reflection of her initial goal of saving seele from the quantam space no matter what); familial love surrounding her (her inheritance of the legacy of reason from welt yang who lost his own father, her guardians love for her being the only reason shes survived for so long even after their death <- many examples of that but the most obvious one being alexandra trading her own life for bronya via misteln, cocolia's relationship with bronya being emphasized as complex in part because of the real love they do feel for each other alongside all the other resentment from cocolia's betrayal of her), literally just. the core of reason and its 300,000 minds being representative of welt joyce's decision to fight for humanity because he loved humanity from that. and all of this from (again!!!) a canonically disabled lesbian! who's character and marginalized identities have been dehumanized over and over again in real life and in the plot! this isn't even mentioning how her entire arc exemplifies honkai's theme of agency!! which makes me sob my eyes out bc bronya hasn't really been allowed agency since she came to cocolia's orphanage!! she was a child mercenary who's lost her home and guardians over and over and over again and forced to care for herself when she was young. her first true point of domestic stability was in cocolia's orphanage (which even then wasn't perfect!! cocolia, for how much she loved her children, still asked them to participate in dangerous experiments!) and when that was threatened because of her loss of seele and her trust in cocolia, she chose to leave. her agency is also exemplified with cocolia literally taking over her body in the early chapters of the game and ofc the parallels w wendy. AND DO YOU SEE HOW THIS CONNECTS TO WELT JOYCE, HUMANITY'S ADAM, WHO CHOSE TO FIGHT FOR HUMANITY AND EMBRACE HIMSELF AS A HUMAN INSPITE OF HIS ORIGIN AS THE CURRENT ERA'S FIRST HERRSCHER AND HOW THAT ALSO EXTENDS BACK TO ELYSIA'S SACRIFICE? she's so important to me everyone watch cyberangel rn.

Collei:

MY DEADALIVEGIRL!!!!!!!!!! i genuinely don't even know where to start. collei is such a beautiful beautiful character who's entire story revolves around a girl who's been dehumanized and exploited for her entire life, healing through compassion and a recognition of her own humanity. first of all, when we meet collei in the genshin manhua, she is full of vitriolic anger and hate at both the world and herself. she's been dehumanized over and over and over again and because its a repetitive experience, she fully believes that her lack of worth is something innately true. this only changes when someone (amber) shows her unrelenting compassion and trust. amber goes against everything that collei believed about herself. amber tells her that she is not only capable of good, but she is good. amber reinforces this novel idea that collei deserves goodness. and that realization is the moment that collei begins recognizing her own humanity, and thus, recognizing her own potential to grow, heal, and be the good person that amber knows she is. every moment thus forth is a demonstration of her attempts to grow and be kind!!!! she decides to go through with cyno's sealing ritual even with its conditions! she asks lisa to help her write a letter at the end of the manhua! she mends amber's tattered clothes like she promised! she decides to go to sumeru, a land of wisdom! it's so pertinent to her character that she gains her vision (representative of her ambition) during a show of compassion (protecting a child during a dangerous storm)! it's even in her symbolism with the way she's constantly referred to as a sproutling. NOT EVEN MENTIONING HOW THE REBIRTH METAPHOR THATS APPLIED TO HER CHARACTER (re: sprout of rebirth, revived serval, cyno and anubis and their ritual) IS SO DEEPLY CONNECTED TO SUMERU (her being the first sumeru character we know of and having that rebirth metaphor hinted at in the manhua! that rebirth metaphor carrying over to the actual sumeru plot w nahida! the rebirth metaphor tying in with the snake and cat symbolism that she and the archon residue complete!!!!!!) she's just such a loaded character!! AND collei's one of the few genshin characters with canonical cptsd who has identifiable and realistically common triggers. most importantly, the game acknowledges that its there and in spite of that, shows her resilience in still trying and healing!!!! my disabled deadalive mummygirl i love her so bad.

#hoyoverse women tournament #hoyoverse #tournament poll #honkai impact 3rd #hi3 #bronya zaychik #hi3 bronya #genshin impact #genshin #genshin collei #collei

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blue--ingenue · 8 months

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Ominis Gaunt headcannons - {Pt. 2}

Author's Note: i had so much fun writing hc for Ominis, so here's a part 2 :) starts out very fluffy, but becomes pretty angsty at the end (sorry, loves 😭). might mess around and paint what i visualized for the synesthesia hc later

he has synesthesia. combined with his heightened senses, he can conjure up whole worlds using his observations that others could only dream about

you ask him about this one day at lunch. every so often he’ll take a bite of something different on his plate, but no two expressions are ever the same. he tells you that different tastes conjure different images in his mind. one afternoon you smuggle an assortment of foods from the kitchens to his dorm (courtesy of the kitchen elves. he and Noctua were always kind to the elves at the Gaunt household and word reached the house elves at Hogwarts. once he became a student they vowed to look out for him.) you hand him a bit of everything, and he uses different colors of light to paint what he sees. spicy foods cause him to paint a whirlwind of red and orange: quick sharp slashes of red and pinpricks of orange as the pepper settles on his tongue. a slice of cake, with light buttercream icing and fluffy yellow sponge yields a beautiful palette of layered pastels: fluffy strokes of baby blue and powder pink rest upon a glowing gold background. puffs of magenta, green, and red pop up between the cloudy swaths as he detects the sugared flowers the elves sprinkled atop the frosting

you take turns describing the world to each other. it doesn’t start out as a date, but ominis decides to indulge himself and imagine that it is (little does he know you’re equally as smitten with him). he mentions that the stars are too far away for his wand to sense, so he settles for reading astronomy books to get through class. you decide to lay outside the castle on a clear night, armed with a wide checkered blanket and a basket of his favorite foods, to describe the stars to him

the basic shapes and distances between stars can be found in any old textbook, but it’s the way you describe them that has him transfixed. you detail how they twinkle and contrast with the navy sky around them. you tell him the myths and origins of each constellation, how different cultures wove them into myths and fables. he adores your voice and naturally gravitates toward you. he shivers a few times as the night’s chill settles in, and you decide to wrap your cloak around the both of you. he positively melts, and you swear you’ve never seen him look more at ease

in return, he decides to play piano for you. this is something Noctua taught him, and something he refuses to do unless he trusts those around him. you tell him that you don’t have a favorite song, so his natural response is to try everything. you spend hours in the music room, letting the sun warm your backs as you rest your head on his shoulder. his playing is impeccable, but the moment he feels you against him his fingers splay across the keys and his face flushes furiously. you apologize, but he insists his hand merely cramped up. you spend the rest of the afternoon like this, you humming along when you recognize a piece and his hands dancing across the keys. his heart feels so full it could burst, and he swears he feels Noctua smiling down on him

speaking of Noctua’s ghost, I have a headcannon that Noctua’s ghost is trapped in the castle. for some reason (maybe an extra curse Salazar Slytherin put on any of his descendants that refused to obey his legacy of pain), she can’t speak to him. so she follows him around, occasionally. she’s unable to speak to him, and he’s unable to detect her

growing up his family treated him as a pawn. they treated his blindness and refusal to embrace the dark arts as weaknesses. they only family member he truly loved was Noctua. his parents forced him into various lessons to “polish” him off for high society, but other than that he was left to his own devices. left alone to face their cruelty and sequestered to their manor and property, the Noctua became the only parent figure he had

she would read to him, bring him toys and sweets, and spirit him away from the manor on trips to London. she told him stories of the outside world, how there was so much more to life than the mundane existence his parents promised him he would endure. she would give him hope; she was once in his shoes, treated like an object and refusing to conform to the Gaunt bloodline’s cruelty. she promised him that if he was patient, if he was strong, he could be like her, one day: free from his family. free to pursue a life of his own

this makes it all the more heartbreaking when he discovers that she died in pursuit of the belief they shared: that one could escape the Gaunt name, the shadow of Salazar Slytherin, and live on their own terms. if Noctua, the strongest, bravest woman he knew, couldn’t do it, what chance did he have?

#ominis x mc #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x y/n #fluff #fluffy #angst #hurt/comfort #noctua gaunt

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