#PDG
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Picard showed us Seven and Tuvok still like, absolutely have problems, but are mostly okay. Prodigy told us the same of Janeway, and that Chakotay immediately got lost in space again. The season 2 sneak peak showed us the emh is fine. Lower Decks showed us that Tom is absolutely not okay but is physically fine at least. Neelix is presumably fine on that outpost he got left on. But on god someone has GOT to get me an update on Harry and B'elanna.
B'elanna I could see going in a couple different directions, but I don't for one second believe Harry "blow myself up on two separate occasions after being home so that I can be back on Voyager" Kim didn't hop on the Protostar the second Chakotay announced that mission
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Also have this kid that only exists in an alternate universe where Celyan and Cyane (@noa-de-cajou's oc) don't stop talking after 2021 and have a weird love-hate relationship. Shiloh is very cute, and loves his mom and nom a lot.
#my art#drawing#art#draw#my oc#ocs#dessin#thal'imagination#doodle#technically shiloh is also noa's oc but eh#pdg#lpm#la peste moderne#ast
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TW : Violence, character death, blood, objectification and unwanted sexualisation (nothing happens dw), dysphoria, body mutilation, (self) amputation
"Stay focused."
They still treat him like he's a child. Not that he really blame them, they've been doing that for most of their lives, next to them he's just a rookie. Still, he knows his strengths, knows his weaknesses. He knows what to look for before they attack, when the woods are silent and the air full of static.
His eyes look on the left, the right. He's with two older hunters, Ioan and Bogdan. They've been hunters longer than he's been alive, he knows he can rely on their experience and knowledge. Yet, something doesn't feel right tonight. Even for a hunt, everything is too calm, too silent. Vampires naturally make the living creatures around them run away, the stentch of death noticable to most animals.
The smell is stronger that night.
Left, right, still nothing. Had one of the other groups found a nest, they would've, should've informed the rest of them by now. Feral vampires stay close, hunt as a group and fight for the food later.
A sound, barely noticable hasn't it been for the silence that's envelopping them. Virgil raises his sword in the direction of the sound, eyes locked to the shadows. Ioan looks in the other way, makes sure it's not trying to trap them and strike from the back. Bogdan is silent but his grip is firm, his scared jaw tense. Wait for it to strike first, let them think you're the hunted.
Then show your own fangs.
Barely a sound is heard when it strikes, claws first, towards Ioan. Barely human anymore, probably didn't have a good feast in weeks. Yet it stands, not a sound from its mouth as its left hand is severed, limp on the ground.
It doesn't even bleed anymore.
One strike is all it takes for Bogdan to end its fate. One swift mouvement through the heart of the creature, black ooze covering the blade rather than the crimson blood of a living thing. It doesn't slowly disintegrate into ashes or fade away with grace. No, it just ceases to be, what was its knees touching the ground first. It'll go up in flames once the sun touches its corpse, in just a few dozen of minutes.
Ioan mumbles something, Virgil guesses it's a prayer. For the lost soul maybe, maybe for Bogdan who's using a part of his vest to clean his blade. But the three men all feel something wrong.
"The smell is still here."
He barely speak, barely whispers, but it's enough for the older men to agree in silence. Something not right, something's missing, something's-
There's blood on the grass before Virgil hears anything.
There's blood on his boots. On his coat. On his face.
Warm, crimson blood.
And standing over Ioan's body, a vampire. Tall, silent. Perfectly healthy, short haired and smiling with blood on its gloves.
How did they miss it. How could it hide from them.
Bogdan reacts first, sword flying in the creature's direction. Kill first, before it kills you. You'll grieve once safe.
More blood stains the grass as Bogdan's arms fall on the ground, the sword still gripped tightly in his hands. The man doesn't have any time to scream in pain when the vampire's hand crushes his throat, his cries reduced to a pathetic noise. Yet Virgil sees what he wants to yell in his eyes.
"Run."
But something tells him it's exactly what the vampire wants. For him to run, to be scared. For him to become the pray he pretends to be.
So he stands. Sword in hand, heart beating so loud he almost doesn't hear it speak in a soft spoken voice, too sweet and delicate for its nature and the blood on its hands.
"You're not running sweetheart ?" He wants to vomit, but he stands. Stares at it until it laughs. "Well, that's unusual."
It goes toward him, letting Bogdan's barely conscious form fall to the ground, letting it whine as he's loosing too much blood. He'll die soon.
He'll die too, Virgil realises. That vampire is well fed, its cheeks almost pink with warmth, his form too human. Its well fed, not looking for a meal. Its looking for amusement.
A bloody hand sets itself on Virgil's right cheek, slowly caressing the three scars that sit here. Just a bit closer and Virgil could strike its heart, kill it and avenge his compagnons but-
"One move and I'll rip your jaw apart." Virgil knows it means it. The red eyes in front of him cruel and curious. "You're very pretty... How old are you darling ?" He stays silent, but the feeling of claws in his jaw makes him awnser.
"Twenty."
"My, my, so young and yet so hurt already..." It smiles, a fake cry, an apology that doesn't try to be convincing. "Tell me, what did you think you'd do here ?" It takes the cross that sits around Virgil's neck in its hand, staining it with blood as well. "Hurt some ghouls ? Clean the mess ? Really, a shame."
"We're hunting."
"You're saying this like I'm not hunting too. What, it true ! I hunt for fun. Just like any human could."
It drags its hand lower, its fingers meeting leather strong enough to stop any teeth from piercing it, no matter how sharp, around the boy's neck.
Just a few minutes. The dawn is near. He thinks, at least. It should be.
"You hunters and your idiotic "bite-proof" outfits..." It rolls its eyes and smiles, its fangs shining in the darkness. "Should I tell you where it is not ? I feel quite hungry looking at you."
A shudder pass through Virgil's body, his nausea coming back stronger than before. He knows what it means, sees how it's looking at his chest, his legs, his arms, his hips. Feels the familiar way his body yells to rip everything out, or to rip what's looking at him.
But for now he can only wait to strike.
Maybe the vampire thinks it has already won and that's why it lets Virgil keep his sword, steady in his left hand.
He feels a fangs caress his right hand before he moves, more like a reflex than real though.
Maybe he thinks about something.
A tired smile. Eyes that are just as tired behind glasses.
I can't die yet.
The pain in his hand is burning as black ooze falls on his blade and blood runs from his palm.
It bit his hand.
He pierced its heart.
It laughs, eyes wide, unbelieving. The wound does not close, the silver of the blade burning the creature as if it was the sun.
Virgil rips his shirt and quickly creates a tourniquet above his wrist. His veins turn to ooze under it, the venom stopped where the blood stops flowing.
Barely a second pass.
The vampire launches towards him.
He's covered in black liquid as the vampire's head roll on the ground.
But he cannot rest yet.
He rips another part of his shirt, the leather underneath his only shield as the sun slowly rises. His blade is clean, sharp as always.
Another part of his shirt is ripped, a clean one, and he stuffs it in his mouth. He plants his blade to the ground, and put his arm under where it should cut.
He doesn't have time.
He barely scream behind the gag.
Blood and onze come out of the severed limb.
He has no time.
He gets his sword back. Get the gag out.
The sun is out.
The vampires burn quickly. His limp arm does slowly.
He needs to go home.
He feels the blood on him.
He needs to go home.
He's barely conscious when the day patrol finds him stumbling in the forest.
I need to go home.
He's brought to his father's house. He hears whispers, cries, panic.
I'll be home, Bastien.
It's his only though, as the dark claims him.
He swears, to whoever will hear him.
He'll go back to him.
#thal talk#my art#thal'imagination#lpm#pdg#la peste moderne#YEA THIS BECAME WAY LONGER THAN INTENDED LMAO#anyways some backstory about how my favorite vampire hunter lost his arm lol <3#this is set in early 2024 like barely before the new year#at or ast it doesn't really matter it happens either way lol
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durres 2022
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Pasion de gavilanes Norma Elizondo
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2013. The first time his mother allowed him to wear a smoking. He isn't sure, still is searching for himself, but he knows he prefers he/him to she/her and that his name is not his name anymore.
Seeing that validated made him happy. Seeing his aunts kiss like everything was normal made him happy.
Only cloud in front of the sun was seeing his cousin cry. Why is he unhappy ? This is a happy day.
2014. He changed names, his mother accepted him but his father ? Not so much. It doesn't matter. None of them are really stopping him. He's thinking about taking hormones, but changes his mind every two mornings.
At the very least being called by his new name feels good.
2015. He was just going back home when that guy grabbed him. A punch went through his nose, followed by another, and slurs that he never heard in his lifetime.
Worst is that this voice was strangely familiar.
He got confirmation when he went hiding at his aunt. She was going through a rough patch, her wife's cheating finally revealed and the divorce getting messy, but she still took him in. That's where she confirmed him it was her wife's brother.
He was thirteen and already exposed to transphobia, his cousins silently staring at his wounds from the other side of the room.
He knows what it feels like to be hated. To discover the worst in people. But he is spiteful, he is resilient, and he survived another night.
The following day, he tells his parents he wants hormones. The same day, his aunt is single for good.
2017. He hardly sees his cousins anymore, lost in the divorce and so many other rough patches they went through. Puberty blockers did their job, and he is now on T, with the permission of his parents. His therapist helps him go through that puberty easier that he would with his assigned one.
He has friends, and his heart beats faster when he sees that man in the school grounds. Said man is a proud gay, taking under his wing the baby transgender he was. Looks are exchanged in-between classes, and he gifts him some drawings. The others are made of his face, more beautiful that he ever drew faces.
One day, a group of bullies took his notebook from his hands and saw the drawings he was hiding. They ripped them all, calling him a fag and a tranny, words that are now so familiar to him.
He drew them as he saw them. Ugly, exxagerated villains. Spite is still powering him.
When he's 18, he will have his top surgery. It's already planned. Nothing else has importance.
2019. When his cousin disappeared at the beginning of the year, he never thought he would find him on TV, in the most horrible telenovela there was. But he coudn't stop watching. Even after the end. The most awful end he ever sees.
He remembers the twisted smile, the cries, the shouts. He puts them on paper.
This would be his last act as a free man before long.
2020. He got out of hell only to get back in another one. Unable to get back to his home, to get his long-awaited top surgery, he stayed behind to survive. Alone.
He never was alone before. Even in hell.
He is still spiteful. His drawings get more and more depicting of an horrifying reality. He still survives.
His estranged half-brother asks him if he wants to come live with him in Norway. Norway is not the paradise it was anymore. It was taken over by devils. he can see the devils. He still goes, because he is tired of being alone.
He gets his top surgery on his brother's allowance. His sister-in-law hates that. He feels like he doesn't belong.
He still gets the letter.
The same letter his cousin got two years ago.
2021. He had no choice but to go to that school. Hope's Peak. Nobody really pays attention to him, a survivor among the survivors, and that suits him. His promotion is already considerably down. Apparently, this year's killing game almost exclusively captured new people.
He doesn't care. At least he's alive.
A statement that gets more and more weak.
2022. That new guy is suspiciously interested in him. It's not rare to see him in his vision field just watching over him with his piercing turquoise eyes. His own are always down.
Once he tried to call him. Something simple, a "why are you watching me" kind of call. The guy dissapeared instantly after realising he got spotted.
This is annoying. So he tries to get intel. A vampire hunter, says the other survivors of the 2022 promotion. He had difficulties learning english and speaks in Latin or Romanian most of the time, but it's not what made him the hardest to be integrated.
People think he's a cult survivor. Still is part of it, apparently, and tracks down vampires even here at Hope's Peak. People believe he found one.
He has the same turquoise eyes as a man from his past.
2023. He started talking to the weird guy, discovered he was not that weird after all, just lost. That he could relate. Both of them are survivors of something. This conversations started to make him believe the world was not that rotten after all.
Until he saw in the 2023 promotion his youngest cousin and the relative of the people who ruined his life. And realised he stopped being spiteful a long time ago.
Still, he could be at least for him. Him, who gets flustered around him for reasons he attributes to his supposed vampiric nature. He knows very well what he is, but can't believe people would love him, as his broken self and the sword of Damocles hung above his head.
At the very least this world is worth something. If there is still people ready to approach him.
2024. He is so tired.
The cute guy went in with a prosthetic arm.
He didn't get why he acted horrified at the sight.
That world took away something from him and he can't even realise it.
This world is so rotten.
2025. He didn't wake up at Hope's Peak.
He knows why. He knows what that means.
Ten years of murderous games and a cousin taking the first role do that to people.
He looks around him. There is shouts, complaints, screams and the tired face of a man that lost everything and is ready to retaliate.
Every one around him is rotten to the core. Everyone around him will die with him. He has no hope for a happy ending.
But next to all of these people he hates, there's him.
He doesn't know what he's doing here. He doesn't know what are his chances of survival. But he knows one thing.
If there is to be one survivor of the 2025 killing game, it would be Virgil Vânător.
Whatever he has to do.
#hel is talking#la peste moderne#hel ocs#lpm#hel stories#hel writing#perros de guerras#pdg#not my ocs#present for thal#I wanted to write something about the skrunkies uwu owo
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sara y franco | anti-hero ♡
#pasion de gavilanes#pasion de gavilanes 2#pdg2#natasha klauss#michel brown#pdg#natashaklaussymichelbrown#sara y franco#sarita y franco
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Voici ce que font les PDG pour rester en forme malgré leur emploi du temps
NOUVEAU : Voici ce que font les PDG pour rester en forme malgré leur emploi du temps
Les PDG et dirigeants de grandes entreprises sont souvent sous pression, jonglant entre des responsabilités énormes et des horaires chargés. Pourtant, nombreux sont ceux qui trouvent le temps de se consacrer à leur bien-être physique. Comment font-ils ? Plongée dans les routines de quelques-uns des plus grands noms du monde des affaires.
Avant de commencer, il faut savoir qu’aucun n’est…
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#bien-être#Elon Musk#exercice#forme physique#Jack Dorsey#Mark Zuckerberg#MÉDITATION#musculation#PDG#Richard Branson#routines#Satya Nadella#Tim Cook#travail prenant#yoga
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Novela: Pasion de Gavilanes
Personaje: Norma Elizondo
Capitulos: 188
HD Caps: 41024
Ver aqui
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Sarita and Franco after 20 years of marriage 🔥🔥 best telenovela pairing ever. 2003/2022
#sarita x franco#sara x franco#sara y franco#sarita y franco#pasion de gavilanes#pasion de gavilanes 2#natasha klauss#franco reyes#sara elizondo#michel brown#pdg#pdg2
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Glad Prodigy included a Gorn ship in the ones coming to aid at the end of season 1. Prodigy joined Strange New World's stupid war on the Gorn on the side of the Gorn
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Doodle dump lets go
I have more but the fandom stuff will get their own posts lol
In order :
me asking on Instagram for ships to draw kisses with and got Judicaël (@noa-de-cajou ) x Abel (they dont kiss, that's not how they show their love) as well as Tachi x Kana (bf who doesn't have tumblr's oc)
Next just doodles of three of my characters. Agathe as an actual Pirate, Virgil tying his hair up and Abel getting his coffee.
Last is a doodle of a ship I dont draw nearly enough, Miki x Jin my beloveds....
#my art#drawing#art#draw#ocs#my oc#dessin#thal'imagination#doodle#i love them all#disrupt#lpm#la peste moderne#oe#pdg#lysara
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Bastien and Emerens belong to @hel-phoenyx , Mika belongs to @noa-de-cajou
Tw : Talk of injuries, dysphoria, implied unwanted sexualization (very brief)
Dont look at me.
She's scared, that little girl. She's so small, so fragile. The boys her age need to protect her, shield her. But they're why she's scared, they're who she doesn't want to be seen by. They're who she wants to get away from, when they pull her blue hair.
She asked her uncle to teach her how to fight. She's barely nine, small as can be. But there's something, in her turquoise eyes, something that convince him to teach her.
She scares all the boys now, when they try to pick on her or her brother.
She's happy about it. They dont look at her anymore.
I want to be a hunter.
Her dad stops in his tracks when she tells him that, after a day with her uncle. "Why is that." he asked. "Because I want to." she anwsers. She never liked telling him everything. She doesn't like telling him it's because she feels weak if she can't protect him and their family.
He asks the trainer if he can exceptionally take in a girl.
She's the best in her group.
Stop looking at me.
They never do.
When it's not the others her age, it's the adults. They talk about that girl that started to ask to be a boy. They look at the way she - he ? - outclasses all the other kids without trying. Look at the way they grow, how their body changes.
Stop looking.
When he comes back from a hunt with two of his seniors, they all go to him. "You did it Virgil !" Says his next-door neighboor. "I always trusted you boy." the old man that often look at the forest hums. "He's the one who killed most of them, your kids are exceptionnal !" His dad is told.
They're not looking at him, too busy congratulating the others. When he knows they're not playing attention, he goes home. His coat, big and hiding as much as possible, is hung on the wall of the small house. He wanders in his own room, a luxery for most families dont have in the village.
He looks in the mirror, old and dusty, barely cleaned by the kid.
He's almost fourteen now. He still feels as lost as the little girl he was just three years ago.
He puts a sheet on the mirror, trying his best to ignore the reflexion of a stranger it gives him back.
I need to stop looking.
He almost thinks he'll be unable to see like he did before when he comes back with a bloody face just a few months after his first successful hunt. His own blood, running down the right side of his face, falling in his eye and making it impossible to open.
The nurse tells him he'll have a nasty scar, but his eye is safe. She saw him in worst shape, when he had stumbled upon a trap as a kid and almost lost his whole leg. She gives him something to stop the pain and looks at him with kindness. "We got to help each other.", she says.
Stop looking at that girl.
He doesn't say it. He never does. Just avoids their gaze, gets away.
The mirror is broken when it starts reflecting a body that is more and more unlike his. He sees a woman in the mirror. A woman that is terrified of him.
Stop looking at me.
When he's eighteen, a letter is sent to him. A school wants him to join, and they will not take no for an anwser. He accepts, knows the village has enough men to not need his help.
People at the school look at him all the time. They look at his scars, raised skin on a face that was described as "pretty" once. They look at his arms and back, the muscles impossible to miss. They look at him with a confused look when he speaks romanian or latin, the only languages he knows.
He wants them to mind their business.
His roommate leaves him alone. They hid the mirrors before he even got to the room, mumbling in a language he did not understand.
He's... Lost.
So he looks around. Tries to find what he's used to.
There's a boy from the year before him. Pale, shying away from the sun, always alone. He heard what he thinks is his name in passing, once or twice, from students that approched him. Never did he approch them first.
"Bastien". Virgil keeps an eye on him, doesn't trust what's happening around him.
He called him once, he thinks. He started being more discreet after that. He does not like those green eyes.
Yet he learns english. It's hard, but one of the two people knowing latin or romanian helped him a bit. They're short tempered and agressive, but they don't look at Virgil when they teach him.
He starts talking to his roommate, and they talk with him too. It's not much, but now he recognizes the girl from their class who's often in the room, here for the make-up abilities of her friend.
He starts talking to Bastien too.
Well, more like "Bastien asked what his problem was and now he's keeping a closer eye on him".
The year goes well, once people stopped looking.
His english gets better with the months, and soon enough he's the one teaching latin to someone Bastien knows. Soon enough, he's running each morning with two people from classes above his, sharing stories from his village with them.
They look scared, sometimes.
He still goes back at the village, when classes are not happening. He's still a hunter. He's still here to fight and protect.
Once he looks in the mirror in his room, broken pieces put back together as best as they could be.
He doesn't look at a woman. He looks at himself.
He doesn't mind being looked at, for a while. Doesn't mind when people stare at him.
He likes it, when someone looks at him. Enjoys seeing his eyes on him at the corner of his vision.
And yet, he gets looked at by a vampire. It looks at him like he's prey, like he's just here to serve it. It looks at him like he's a way to get amusement, looking at his chest and hips.
Don't look at me.
Never look at me like that.
It's dead soon after that. But Virgil lost his arm. He had to.
When Bastien sees him, he's terrorized. Doesn't understand why that was necessary. Virgil wants to reassure him, to tell him it was fine. But only an empty feeling comes to him.
Please don't look at me like that.
Bastien starts looking at him like before after a few weeks. They're friends, he thinks, hopes. Bastien's his anchor here, someone he can always find when his roommate is out with his friend. Someone he can look around with.
He knows he's in love when Mika asks him what's his deal. When they look at him with tired eyes, like it's Virgil's fault his heart tries to ruin his friendship.
Virgil's never been in love. So he keeps watching. Avoids to be seen while being looked at.
It takes months before it gets too much. Months of a new student, Tachi, mocking them. Months of Emerens, the he's been teaching latin, teasing him. Months of his hands, the one of flesh and the one of hard plastic, longing to feel the touch of Bastien's.
"Bas', can you look at me ?"
They're alone, in Virgil's dormroom. It's not uncommun for them to just sit in silence together, Bastien doodling and Virgil reading. Yet Bastien looks up from his sketchbook almost immediatly.
"What's up ?"
There's a pause. Virgil's eyes goes from Bastien's face to the ceiling.
"Nothing, sorry."
I just wanted you to look at me.
"... Uhuh. Come on, speak your mind."
"I..." He doesn't know. He wets his lips, feels blood rush to his face. "Can you... See me."
Silence, the sound of a book closing and shuffling next to Virgil. Next, Bastien's voice comes from right next to him.
"Yea I can, that's... A weird question."
"No." You don't see me, you're looking.
"No it's not weird ?"
"No ! It's..." You're just looking. "You're not seeing me. Not..."
"How can I do that then ?"
Virgil turns his head, his nose facing Bastien's, the other boy's glasses folded on the sheets as to not break them with his head turned to Virgil. He's looking at him, with squinted eyes.
"You can't even see me properly." Virgil laughs, smile growing on his face.
"Not the point. How do I look at you, Virg' ?"
It's dumb, that question. It should be easy, to just say anything, to avoid the question, to go back to their own game of tension.
But Virgil can only look at Bastien. Looks at dark, tired green eyes, looks at chapped lips, looks at a slightly disheveled uniform, looks at hands he wants to hold.
"Do what you think I want you to."
It's a plea, really.
Yet, Bastien anwsers it.
Chapped lips meets Virgil's. Soft, just a press of lips, chaste and quick as can be. Virgil's eyes closed, and he chases after Bastien's lips before he has any opportunity to say something dumb.
He feels so light, like his brain is about to explode. It's just pressing his lips to Bastien's, but if feels so... Special.
He open his eyes, and turquoise meets dark green.
You're looking.
"I love you." A whisper in the quiet room, an invitation from Bastien.
Keep looking.
"I love you too".
See me.
He kisses him again, hands finding his face to hold him in cold and warm palms.
Never stop doing that.
#thal talk#my art#thal'imagination#lpm#pdg#i got a little carried away i think but it feels normal from me when it's about Virgil lol#thal writes#virgil and being seen. a long story. even more complicated in at because he doesn't have some people around to help him learn stuff
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