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#in my bed with knives and random food

violent138 · 15 days

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Tim, looking around the darkened corridor: "You think it's a good idea to be breaking into random places right now?"

Jason said nothing, fumbling in his pockets.

Dick: "You live here, don't you?" Which gets everyone's attention laser-focused.

Jason just cast him a look, getting the door open.

Steph entered first, smacking into something that falls over. "Jeez." She complained, stumbling backward until Cass steadied her by the shoulders. "Sorry, that's my bad."

Duke turned on the lights in one motion, making everyone blink and wince.

"Get off me." Damian snapped, and Dick carefully let him go, letting him limp angrily into a chair. He frowned, scrutinizing the place. "You live here? Why would anyone--"

"Guys." Dick rubbed his eyes over the mask, cutting off Damian and Jason’s sharp answer. "First aid kit?" Dick asked Jason tiredly.

Jason nodded, moving to get it and heard Damian ask "What?" in response to a patented glare he must be getting.

Tim had made a beeline for the kitchen. "Dude, why do you have a singular set of dishes? And why are there just guns in this cabinet?"

Jason scoffed, handing Dick the kit. "Didn't realize I was running a fucking bed and breakfast."

"There's guns in this cabinet too!" Tim shook his head, opening and closing two more. "Oh good, just large knives in this one."

At Tim's raised eyebrows, Jason went into the kitchen and shooed Cass down the counter she was perched on, grabbing the paper plates he kept in a drawer and shoving them into Tim's chest.

Glancing at the way Steph was rubbing her neck, slouched at the table, Jason grabbed two ice packs, sliding one her way and throwing the other to Damian.

Duke, taking a book off Jason's meticulously organized shelf: "Why do you have seven copies of Pride and Prejudice? Did you keep forgetting you bought it, or--?"

Jason, storming over to put the book back. "Stop."

Dick looked up from the wound he was stitching. "Are they different at at all?"

"Are they in different languages?" Steph asked.

"Did you barter them for food? Because your fridge is fucking empty." Tim reported.

Jason groaned, realizing that they weren't going to drop it. "One has a different introduction and one is the zombies version. And yes, the rest are the same, now could you all stop touching stuff?"

"Why do you have five copies of the same book?"

#New format I'm testing out: too lazy to write a fic and too content heavy to be a text post #I present to you minificpost #Batman #Dc comics #Mini something #Batfamily #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #Duke Thomas #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #damian wayne #Tim Drake #batfam #Don't know why I fixated on pride and Prejudice #Man reads other books too lol

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isa-belle1367 · 7 days

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Ferral desmond has my heart. So here are some feral desmond head canons

1. Extremely flexible and amazing at hiding even before the animus

2. blast the most aggressive music with a straight face. Like his headphones will be screaming about murdering people for drugs, and he'll just be chilling.

3. He definitely takes insane amounts of melatonin to fall asleep like 40+mg (please don't do that that is not safe).

4. Has started multiple bar fights on purpose.

5. Has connections to gangs.

6. Has never paid taxes, the IRS hates him.

7. He got really drunk and decided to have an energy drink with it. He ended up hacking into government intelligence and had to skip town because the fbi had tried to kill him

8. He is really good at throwing knives but can't shoot a bow to save his life. Like give him a set of throwing knives, and he can take down abstergo in an hour, give him a bow, and he'll be dead.

9. Once he learned how to fall safely, he started jumping off tall buildings for fun

10. A complete adrenaline junkie he spends most of his time at 6 flags

11. His feral-ness is not helped by the fact that he has the diet of a pre-med student reheated coffees with a side of hope and prayers

12. Prefers sleeping on the floor will 100% take the floor over a bed the only reason he has a mattress was so his friends had some where to sleep when they came over.

13. When he gets high, he either has questions that could get him on a watchlist or he's climbing the walls

14. He enjoys scaring children

15. Is very picky about keeping things a specific way. He can sense when someone is trying to reorganize his spice cabinet

16. LOVES spicy food. If he's not crying by the end, then it wasn't hot enough

17. His notes app is so fucking random like he has his grocery list, a hit list, the Geneva conventions, the bee movie script, the fucking Bible (he's not even Christian)

18. Once, he fist fought a gang leader and won.

19. He has had to disappear on multiple occasions because the FBI tried to revoke his life subscription

20. The only reason he got taken by Templars was because he was about to skip town again, but then Abstergo walked in and he was like "sweet I won't have to run across the country again thanks guys!"

21. Back at the farm, Bill had smacked one of his friends, and desmond had to be held back by 5 people (3 of which were seriously injured after)

22. He doesn't typically get angry, but when he does, everyone scatters bc he is punching concrete, and- *how tf did he just crack the concrete with a single punch?*

23. Never sleep (he might be batman)

24. "Do it, you won't" has been said to him too many times, and each time, he proves that he will, in fact, do it

25. If you gave that man a full 8 hour sleep along with a proper meal, he would be able to take over a country

#I LOVE FERAL DESMOND #hes so silly #let that man be feral #as a treat #desmond miles #silly desmond #desmond #assassin's creed #head canons

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consistencynevermether · 6 months

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Astarion x Wizard! Tav reader

A/N: part 3 of my Astarion with different Tav classes. its magic time baby

summary- 1.1k words, SFW, gn reader

Astarion x Wizard! Tav

Neeeeerd

No seriously, that's Astarions reaction to you being a wizard. You choose to base your entire life around studying? You two are basically like oil and water in a lot of ways.

Ok but in all seriousness, Astarion does admire your dedication to your craft. He sees how much work you put into learning new spells and is genuinely excited when you get it right

It doesn’t mean he’s gonna stop making fun of you though. You're telling him you belong to a SCHOOL of magic??? Need for Academic validation much? Oh and please, if you're gonna wear wizard robes try to make them a little stylish, or he’ll come for your sense of fashion too.

Actually, I bet he’d help you spice up your outfits a little. A thigh slit here, a tasteful gold embroidery there, your not completely beyond hope

Dw tho, you can absolutely get him back. Oh, you need some magical assistance? Maybe help figuring out how a magical item works? Uh oh, looks like the rouge needs the wizard's help after all dontcha astarion?

It’s definitely the highlight of your day when he has to ask for help. Unfortunately, it goes both ways. His speed and skills have definitely saved your ass in battle before

Honestly, it’s giving annoyances to lovers. Plus I’m convinced at least 40% of Astarions love language is sass and knife cat energy.

He enjoys the banter definitely, but it’s never meant to cut too deep. He’s good at reading people, so say you're having trouble learning this one spell and you're starting to get frustrated. He can definitely tell and knows not to make jokes about your magic today. He can’t exactly help, because this man is NOT magically inclined. But he’ll pull you away from the spell scroll long enough for you to take a deep breath and have a break. It helps in its own way because now you can come back to it with a more calm mindset.

You can’t tell me this man isn’t laughing (a little manically) when you cast fireball. I mean come on that’s one of the most entertaining things he’s seen in 200 years let him have some fun

But also-

He secretly finds your powers very cool. I mean there’s something beautiful about magic at its core, he can’t help but be just a little entranced. And you’ve definitely used magic to show off to him just a lil (make a rose out of magic blue light or somethin he’ll scoff but find it endearing)

Honestly, I imagine you two are a slight hoarder couple. I mean you need to have all these ingredients for spells on you, and Astarions a rouge he definitely has like at least 5 knives on him at all times. Also the magic items. You both love to hoard those, just in case they’re useful

If you actually do have some sort of wizard's tower, layer, study, or something Astarion wants to see it

He’ll make a joking excuse as to why he wants to see your lair. And he’s DEFINITELY gonna grab a random cloak in there and do a bad wizard impersonation

BUT-

The real reason he wants to see it is because it’s an integral part of you. It’s basically your home, where you store everything you find valuable, where the pantry is always stocked with the food you like, and where the bed has the exact number of pillows you want it to have. Astarion wants to know these things about you.

I imagine after you finally defeat the mindflayers and everyone goes off to find their own way (or maybe you all stick together and keep adventuring while also occasionally having individual adventures, who am I to break up your found family) you immediately take Astarion to your tower and start working on methods to help him walk in the sun. magic sunscreen? Enchanted daylight ring? Charmed circlet? You've got options and you're not afraid to use them. Anything to make it so that Astarion doesn’t have to live his life in darkness anymore. You jest and say it would be a true tragedy if you couldn't see his beautiful silver hair kissed by the sunrise, but in reality, you were immediately tearing through every tome you owned looking for a solution. After all, who wouldn't do anything for the man that held their heart?

Ok now imagine. You and Astarion just completed a mission, saving some people in the grove with Halsin. And you already had received a message from Wyll and Karlach asking for assistance smoking out a group of assasins that had settled in Baldurs gate. But gods you were so tired. It was nearly midnight when you both decided to crash at your liar instead of heading straight to the location Wyll had given you. You were both covered in mud, twigs, and other “gifts of nature” as Astarion had described them in a voice mocking Halsins. You were so tired your eyelids stung, and everything was hazy. You both more or less stumbled into your study, already half asleep.

Of course, you had become a bit more coherent when you realized that there was only one bed. And two of you. Now this might seem a bit ridiculous to care about things like that considering how close the two of you are and how much you have been through and done together, but now hear me out. This man has spent the last 200 years either not having a bed or being forced to share one. You had both decided he needed some time to just be able to have his own space to sleep, after all, you had all of your lifetime together, and you wanted him to be comfortable, so whenever he had come to your study, he slept on the couch. You had wanted to get him a cot or something of his own at the place, buuut it had kinda slipped your mind entirely. And the couch he slept on was currently covered in about 50 books stacked across the couch, another thing you had forgotten about. Whoops.

You and Astarion both looked at the pile of books on the couch and then at each other. You felt like you were about to pass out where you stood and he didn't look much better. There was an instant understanding between the both of you, that understanding being “fuck it” as you both collapse onto your bed, neither taking off your filthy armor and robes, simply passing out on the spot.

You awoke to a certain vampires face buried in the crook of your neck, trying to block out the sun now shining in his eyes. Eventually, you both dragged yourself out of the small bed and cleaned yourselves up before heading off to Wyll's location, but after this situation you both unspokenly began to sleep in the same bed alot more often.

#astarion fic #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year

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The Arcana HCs: M6 making the MC breakfast in bed

Part 1 is here:

You had made your beloved breakfast in bed a few weeks before, and since then, they've taken it into their heads to do the same for you. How well does it go when they do?

Julian

Ever since he decided to return the favor, he's been caught up in the romantic aspect of it and is turning it into a grand gesture

This man never plans something unless he's forced to

So yeah, he scoured Vesuvia yesterday to find you the perfect bouquet, and he knows exactly how you like your morning caffeine

But he doesn't realize you're out of groceries until he's got 30 minutes until you wake up

He's finished decorating the tray and adding the sonnet he wrote you and now he's standing in front of the food cabinets, head empty, because he totally forgot about the breakfast part of breakfast in bed

Muffled cursing

Gathers what he can from the early vendors at the marketplace and breaks into Mazelinka's kitchen for the rest

You wake up to the sound of him crashing back into the kitchen, ordering Malak to keep you distracted by whatever means necessary

Rushing over, hair tousled and eyepatch slowly slipping, with a very unusual combination of street foods and kitchen ingredients

"Good morning, MC, light of my life, my dearest love, your dashing doctor has brought you breakfast in bed."

Your drink is cold, and you don't normally go for deep fried stuff first thing in the morning, and you have no idea what the random bowl of rosemary is for, but the flowers are beautiful and the sonnet is very sweet

You pull him down to sit next to you while you eat what you can and compliment what you can't

You take him grocery shopping with you later to restock the kitchen (and return Mazelinka's things)

Asra

They were planning to return the favor from the moment you had brought them their tray, but it's taken a couple weeks because they keep accidentally sleeping in

He finally enlists Faust's help by having her squeeze his arm and not stop until he makes it out of bed

He has already spent years collecting your favorites for you on his many travels, he knows what you like

Some of the food he's brought from outside (pumpkin bread!) and kept fresh with some useful spells

Some he endeavors to make himself

Except they also love experimenting

Maybe they got a little carried away with that one enchantment to enhance the flavor

Maybe they had to restart a few times

Maybe they employed a very mild sleeping spell to buy them a little extra time

When you do wake up, it's to Faust sliding around your shoulders and his smiling face over a steaming mug of your favorite morning drink

You do notice that about half the things on your tray seem ever so slightly ... off

You might also notice the hint of guilty mischief on their face

He's already admitting to his "adjustments" by the time you start to ask

Easily fixed though! They just snuggle up next to you in bed and take the first bite of everything as your official taste tester

Cue intense levels of sappiness as you take turns feeding each other and giggling

Nadia

Initially, she was planning on ordering breakfast for you the next morning, to be delivered to your chambers

But then she remembered how special it was that you had prepared it yourself

And you know how devoted she is to doing things properly down to the smallest detail

So she gets up half an hour before you do and walks down to the kitchen, thinking "how hard can it be?"

Famous last words

Turns out kitchen knives cannot be used with the same technique as swords

Turns out cooking pots get very hot when they sit on the stove

Turns out things burn quickly when you leave them unattended on said hot stove

Turns out fruit is difficult to cut into fancy little shapes, and even more difficult to peel

Portia receives an emergency message from Chandra and rushes over to find Nadia nursing a burned thumb, trying to wave away the smoke while the kitchen staff hide around the corner

Nadia's too proud to accept help from anyone else and the staff are too baffled to approach

Portia is deeply honored

Nadia appears a few minutes after you wake up with a bandaged hand and a simple but hearty breakfast

Portia helped, but Nadia still did the bulk of the work and makes sure you know that

She will shyly let you heal her, and is so satisfied with your praise that she decides to take a few cooking classes in the future

Muriel

Bold of you to assume he doesn't already cook breakfast for the two of you most mornings

But he was very deeply moved by your gesture, so he wants to do something special in return

Eggs

Except you've been slowly pulling him out of his "food is fuel that I am barely worthy of" mentality, so he steels himself and opens up the spice cabinet you've been gradually building

He's very careful, sniffing everything before he decides whether it should go in or not

The chili pepper makes him sneeze super loud and that wakes you up

It's too early, you roll over and go back to sleep while he's standing frozen in the middle of the hut, sweating

He also picked up your favorite pumpkin bread in town the day before

He had to ask Asra for help, but he did it, and Innana was so proud of him she howled the whole way back through the woods

He slices it up with the same precision he gives his carvings and toasts it so meticulously over the fire

He also carved you a tray since you had to use a slab of wood last time and he only gives you the best

He shakes you awake sooo gently and waits until you wake up all the way to put your tray down

Every positive comment you make turns him a little more red

After the amount of affection you show him for the rest of the day he decides to make you breakfast as often as possible

He carves "I love you" into the tray so that that's the first thing you see every morning

Portia

Queen of breakfast in bed

She's been taking notes for the last week on your food preferences, what pastries you like, what fruits make you smile, how you like your eggs, etc etc

Has all of the ingredients in her cabinets and prep work done the night before

She took you out to the rowdy raven the night before with Ilya and Mazelinka so she could put you to bed without you noticing her plans

And after the crazy dancing you did on the tables, she knows you'll be extra hungry in the morning

Everything goes to plan. The pastries bake perfectly, the eggs behave themselves, the fruit is just the right amount of ripe, her hard work pays off

You wake up to possibly the best breakfast you'll ever have

Except that in all the excitement Portia forgot to feed Pepi last night *and* this morning

Pepi is watching, waiting so very patiently for her breakfast, and she sees how much work Portia's doing in the kitchen so she's got her hopes up

And then all of that beautiful food goes onto your lap, and the longer the two of you talk and eat, the less food she sees on the tray and reality sinks in

She leaps up onto the bed, snatches the best pieces left, and streaks out of the cottage

Portia knocks her out of the tree outside with a broomstick

Lucio

It doesn't occur to him to return the favor until roughly two months have passed

He remembers during a bragging contest about how his lover is just the Best and lists the breakfast in bed as evidence

Person responds with "yeah, but could you do any of that?"

This is a challenge to prove his greatness, there is no way he's backing down now

He did not make any plans, he just started making breakfast foods (or trying to) at two o'clock in the afternoon

Quickly realized that the only food he's decent at making is what he learned as a mercenary, so he sets up camp in the palace gardens with a bonfire

Mercedes and Melchior are so impressed they keep trying to steal your food

Finally, covered in soot and reeking of smoke, he pops up at your shoulder and drags you to your bed by the wrist

"So just like, lie down there and go to sleep until I say so or something."

Mercedes and Melchior help out by lying on top of you until he reappears

"Wakey wakey, are you ready for the best breakfast of your life?!"

It's actually not that bad, you just don't know why you're having breakfast in bed while the sun is setting

He's peacocking about it for the rest of the week

#the arcana headcanons #the arcana #the arcana hc #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #portia devorak #muriel of the kokhuri #lucio morgasson #the arcana game #arcana shitposting #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #portia the arcana #muriel the arcana #lucio the arcana

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muted-like-sunset · 11 months

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Spark| Chapter 7

peeta mellark x fem! reader

masterlist

word count: 7.1k

trigger warnings: nightmares/nighterrors, drowning, implied abuse, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, mild argument, animal death (minor), fire, bears and bear attacks (nongraphic), canon typical violence, weapons (knives, swords, etc.), sort of sexual harassment? (mild), mentions of death.

(mostly) unedited, all mistakes are my own

She thrashes through the night, haunted by a familiar voice. She fights against long fingers grasping clumps of her hair, fighting to reach the surface of their bathtub as hands hold her under, trying to scream for Asher and instead getting lungfuls of water. She wakes with a start, kicking at the blankets wrapped around her until she can free herself. She draws back to the head of the bed until the blankets fall entirely from her body.

There, she shivers. Her hands press firmly into her eyes willing the feeling of water in her lungs to leave her. She casts a glance to the window in her room, eyes drifting out over the still sleeping city. The sun has just started to rise, casting a warm glow through the streets of the Capitol. She breathes in the sounds of the early morning, the sound of the city sleeping in after last night’s festivities. There is no birdsong, no soft rustle of trees like at home. She longs, for a moment, to hear her parents talking in the other room. To hear Asher pushing his blanket down the scratchy sheets.

She drags herself out of bed, making her way carefully to the bathroom. Hesitating at the shower for a minute, she gathers her thoughts before turning it on. She plunges in quickly, thankful for whatever Capitol technology makes the water warm as soon as she turns it on. Her teeth chatter with the force of her shivering, forcing her face under the spray just to come out gasping and running her hands over her face to orient herself. A quick press of a random option in the selection in her shower has her doused in a sickly sweet, almost fruity scent. The bubbles are a bright pink, brighter than even Effie Trinket’s hair, but she’s thankful for the visual stimuli. Theres nothing like this at home.

She works a bit to find the matching lotion, wondering if it will match its predecessor’s hue. After testing a criminally large collection of lotions, she settles on one that smells the same. This time, its assaulting shade brings a smile to her face. Once she’s moisturized and dried, she makes her way to the closet. Towards the front hangs a full outfit. Her skin prickles, wondering when it had been placed there. A chill runs up her spine as she pulls it from its place, dressing quickly to keep her mind from wandering too much. Tight black pants, a burgundy top with long sleeves, and plain black shoes. She stares at herself in the mirror for a second, studying her body. For the first time since leaving Twelve, she looks somewhat like herself. Her face is clear of makeup, clothing plain enough. She tilts her head, imagining a few snags in the clothing, more tearing on the arms and around the hem.

Her eyes prick and she takes a deep breath, eyes darting from her reflection. She isn’t home, she might never be home again. If she wants to go home she needs to focus on getting through the next few weeks, not moping over whats passed. Instead, she rolls her shoulders back, casting a quick glance to make sure her face is steeled back in a calm manner. Then, she remembers the pin. Where had she left it?

She trails back in her mind, picturing all of the clothing she’d worn since the reaping and realizing when it had gotten lost. The last time she’d seen it was yesterday morning, before the tribute parade. Perhaps Cinna still had it.

Its early enough that no one has come to collect her, so she waders aimlessly out into the main room of the apartment. By a long table in the dining room, a man with dark hair and an all white outfit stands silently. Another avox. Where has the girl from last night gone?

The table is covered in food of all kinds, so she takes a plate from one end and piles it high with a little it of everything she can fit. Eggs, sausage, hotcakes, and pretty purple fruit make their way onto the plate. She finds a jar of honey and drizzles it on top of the hotcakes, smiling. This is a familiar treat. She settles at the table with her plate and a glass of orange juice, tucking in to her meal. The purple fruit turns out to be some kind of melon, the juice of it pooling on her plate. She returns to the table and fills a plate with rolls and some fruit spread that smells strongly like oranges.

She moves to the window, setting her plate on the ground and picking a roll to pull apart in her hands. There, she watches the city streets slowly begin to come to life. She thinks of her parents getting ready for work, of Mama combing her Papa’s hear with a practiced hand. She wonders how the morning is in Twelve. If the streets are foggy yet or if the morning is dry. Katniss and Gale will already be in the woods, working to feed more than just their own families. She hopes Asher has started to go with them, that he isn’t moping alone at home. Knowing him though, the call of the mines has gotten more of his attention than she would like. The mines offer somewhat security where the woods rely on his skills. She knows that the mines are what he would choose, but she holds out hope that her friends can bring him along anyway. If for nothing else than a place to release his frustrations.

He and Gale might just be a match.

Had they seen them last night? How did they feel about their debut, had it given them hope that she could make it home? She hopes they’d slept a little sounder, that she’d looked confident enough to ease their worries for the night.

Haymitch and Peeta come into the room together, she wonders briefly if she has woken them.

“Comfy?” Haymitch asks, his face pulled down with sleep. She smiles sheepishly, pulling herself out of her seat. She collects her plate and joins them at the table, tucking herself towards the end and across from Peeta. He’s wearing an identical burgundy top with loose black pants. She tugs the fabric against her thighs and wishes hers were loose as well.

She’s anxious to start training. They’ll have three days to practice their skills before showing them off to the gamemakers. Three days is not nearly the time she’ll need to hone her skills, but she’ll have to make it work. There will be other tributes, like Marvel, who have spent their lives preparing for this moment. She can’t be caught unprepared.

The table is quiet as Haymitch and Peeta eat, she’s lost her appetite. After a while, Haymitch pushes back from the table with a small sigh, pulling a flask from his pocket and taking a swig. Leaning heavily against the table as though already drained by the day, he speaks. “So, training. If you’d like, I can coach you both separately. It’s up to you.”

She furrows her brow, glancing to Peeta to find much the same confusion. She leans forward. “Why would we ask to be coached separately?”

Haymitch smiles a teasing smile, looking up at her from where he rests his chin on his hands. His smile drops as soon as he finishes speaking, settling back into a slight grimace. “You can’t hold hands through the arena. Say you have a skill that Peeta doesn’t know about. You might be able to use it to your advantage.”

A skill Peeta doesn’t know about? To her, she has no unknown skills. Everything she’s learned is seen by the population of Twelve every day. She glances over to Peeta, watching for his reaction. He shakes his head so subtly she wonders if he even meant to, his eyes moving to find hers. “No, nothing. I’ve eaten enough to know yours, too, I think.”

She’d considered that he’d know about her hunting. Everyone in Twelve did, most likely. Still, its kind of nice to know that he’d reliably eaten something she provided. It makes her face heat a bit. She nods to Haymitch. “We’ll train together.”

“Alright,” Haymitch leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “What can you do?”

“Nothing, unless you count baking bread.” Peeta says dryly, she smiles. It’s harrowing to think it might be his only skill, but she knows that isn’t true. He’s strong, she’s seen it herself. She shakes her head, smiling at him like this is their own little joke.

“I don’t.” Haymitch says, turning to look at her. “I know you can use a knife, got anything else?”

She considers this, turning her days in the woods over in her head with a keen eye. She can use a bow, just not as well as Katniss or Gale, and she sets the groups traps, a skill also dwarfed in comparison to Gale. “I’m okay with a knife, that’s sort of it.”

Peeta scoffs a laugh, sitting forwards and shaking his head. He speaks to Haymitch, but his eyes are on her. “She’s better than okay, she’s excellent. She sets traps,” He looks to Haymitch, flexing his hands almost like he could feel the wire between is fingers. “My father buys her squirrels, sometimes rabbits. He says the way they’re caught must be quick, its so clean they barely have time to struggle.”

“If we’re correcting one another,” She begins, crossing her arms. “Peeta’s strong. I’ve seen him lift hundred pound bags of flour in the market, carries them two at a time if not more. Tell him that, it’s not nothing.”

“It’s not the same.” Peeta shoots back, his blue eyes locked onto her. It’s intense, she has to steel herself from looking away. “Lifting flour isn’t the same as using a weapon, you know that. Besides, I’m sure every tribute in the arena will just stand still for me to, what, carry them?” He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. She looks away from him, face flushing.

“He’s a wrestler.” She tells Haymitch. “He always wins unless he’s pitted against his brother, but even then its close. There’s always hand-to-hand in the arena, he’s making himself sound worse than he is.”

“Well, so are you. I’m not going to wrestle anyone to death in the arena. You’ll be off in a tree somewhere picking the rest of us off with traps.” He almost spits, moved to anger. She can see the way his hands tighten around nothing, curling themselves into fists before relaxing and splaying out large.

“It won’t matter if I can’t get any sponsors.” She mumbles, pushing her plate away from herself and slumping down in her seat, arms crossed in front of herself. “You do that kind of stuff naturally, I have to actually try to make people like me. People are going to fall all over themselves trying to sponsor you.”

He scoffs, but she doesn’t turn to look at him, too busy fighting off defeated tears. “She has no idea, the effect she can have.” He says quietly, like she might not hear him.

The effect she can have, what does he mean? That people will pity her, or that they’d have some reason not to? She forces herself to think. Surely, she has something to gain sponsors attention. She wipes at her face with the back of her hand, listening as Haymitch and Peeta shift.

“Well then, you two make a good show, don’t you?” Haymitch says, smirking. “We’ll work with that. Y/N, theres no guarantee you’ll have any supplies to set any snares in the arena, make sure you save that for your private session. Show them what you can do, it’d make an interesting games. Until then, steer clear of any trapping, do you hear?”

She nods, not meeting his eyes.

“Peeta,” Haymitch begins again. “She’s right. Don’t underestimate physical strength in the arena, it tilts the advantage to you in a confrontation. They’ll have weights in the training center, you can use them, just don’t go all out. The plan for both of you is to learn things you might not already know. Throw a spear, swing a mace, learn to tie knots. Save your skills for your private showings, are we clear?”

They both nod, she doesn’t have to look to know it. Haymitch leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“In public, you two stay by each other’s side every minute. You’ll figure it out, you always seem to.” This peaks her attention, sitting up and meeting his eyes. Seam gray, like everyone she grew up with. “Now go on, meet Effie at the elevator at ten to head down.”

She pushes back from the table, making a quick exit back to her room. His footsteps follow her down the hall and she pauses inside of her door, listening intently for him to show up to talk. It wasn’t so much a fight as it felt to her, but she’d still like to see him. Her shame cements her feet to the floor, listening instead for some sign he wants to talk. His footsteps pause just in front of her door, only for a moment, and her breath hitches. Then, she hears him continue, his door opening and shutting quietly.

She freezes for a long while, waiting at the door for him even though he isn’t coming. She shakes herself from her stupor, moving instead to her bathroom to get ready. She brushes through her hair, securing it the same way she always does before brushing her teeth. It’s almost ten, so she slips back into the hall to meet Effie and Peeta at the elevator.

Peeta’s already there when she gets there, talking quietly with Effie. She dips her head, following them into the elevator. Her nerves, temporarily stayed by a flash of anger at him at breakfast, return in full force at the idea of meeting the other tributes. Marvel will be there, and his district partner. The tall one with golden hair. She wonders if she might be spiteful of the attention her district partner is paying her.

“Hey,” Peeta whispers, bumping her gently with his arm. “You okay?”

If Peeta made friends with her, would she be angry? She tries to imagine her laughing at something he said, smoothing over her golden hair with an elegant hand, giving him a bold and flirty smile. Her stomach knots, would she be angry?

She nods, letting him stay close “Nervous.” She admits with a watery smile, looking to meet his eyes. The ride is quick, probably less than a minute before they’re coming to a stop. The doors open to a large gymnasium, and despite it not being ten yet it seems they are the last to arrive. She rolls her shoulders back, holding her head high as they enter. She lets herself study the other tributes, they’re all dressed athletically. Still, she and Peeta are the only pair that are dressed alike.

Her eyes find Marvel already looking at her, a grin on his face. The blonde girl is near him, glaring daggers at her. She fights the urge to tuck herself close to Peeta, to seek his protection from the girl. She’ll be on her own if this girl decides to take it out on her, she won’t always have Peeta at her side in the arena.

She and Peeta join the others in their tense circle, standing still as someone pins a cloth square with a 12 to the back of their shirts. A tall woman stands in the center of the circle with a name tag that says ‘Atala’, she begins to explain the training center. The rules go in one of her ears and out of the other, thankful that Peeta seems to be listening attentively enough for the both of them. She lets herself study the tributes she hasn’t seen closely before, trying to make herself useful.

Almost all of the male tributes are larger than her, and even some of the girls seem to dwarf her. Marvel’s district partner is one of them, tall and athletic looking up close. Her hair is pulled back into a braid that runs down her back and her eyes are trained on Y/N. She looks away, the other girls seem more manageable. Though, even the smaller one from District One looks frightening. The other tributes not from career districts look more like herself. It’s easy to tell that many of them come from backgrounds like her own, if the hollowness of their cheeks and eyes is anything to go by.

Soon, the group splits. She feels Peeta’s hand move to take her own, trailing down her arm before locking their hands together and tugging her alongside himself. She tries to shake off her thoughts, following closely behind even as she feels eyes on them. Was this what Haymitch meant as “in public”?

“So, what do we do first?” Peeta asks quietly, leaning down to talk almost into her ear. She bounces on the balls of her feet for a moment, looking around. The eyes of the other tributes flutter away as she surveys the room, all but Marvel’s. He holds her gaze until she looks away, looking instead to find an empty station.

“Feel like trying firestarting?” She asks, pulling him beside herself as she moves towards the station. They detach as they come up on the station, straightening themselves to begin training. She wipes the sweat from her hands.

Fire, as she has always been taught, is dangerous. One stray spark could bring down almost all of Twelve, so their fire had always been her Papa’s job. After the accident, that fell to Asher.

Still, she had built up kindling before. In her house, Papa had always scraped the coal dust off of every surface. The bottoms of their shoes were often caked in it in the right weather conditions. After collecting it, he pressed it into small discs to use as an accelerant.

She takes the lead, curious to try her own hand at what she’d seen done endless times. First, she tries with dry materials - grasses, ark, and leaves - and finds easy success. She flinches back each time the spark takes and bursts into flame, but quickly becomes accustomed to the flash of heat. The way it flickers mesmerizes her, she almost feels remorse when it dies out. Her next tries are in a damper environment. The woman running the station gives her pointers and she sets quickly to scouring the materials laid before her. Some are meant to make it easier, like puffs of cotton o a tarp, but she’s intent on learning.

She’d seen Katniss do a trick a couple of times when they’d been caught in weather they shouldn’t have, one that required a specific type of wood.

“These trees,” She begins looking over to see how Peeta is doing. He’s more focused on her than his fire, eyes darting up when he should be working on getting his flint to spark. “Can we use them? For the fires, I mean.” She asks. When the trainer nods, she slips into the fake woods created in the station. There are only a couple of trees, likely not even planted and instead just propped up below the damp soil.

What had she said? Y/N stoops low beneath a pine, pinching a fistful of dry needles from underneath. She moves back to her materials, taking the training knife and moving back to the tree. She scrapes off some bark, happy with the sticky feeling of the sap against her fingers. Yes, this will spark. She brings her spoils back to Peeta with a smile, offering the small chunk of wood and bark in her hands.

“Here,” She begins, settling down beside him to show him what she hopes will work. “See how its sticky? It’s pine, the sap is flammable.” The moment she’s gotten the wood into his small attempt at a fire, she holds a hand out for his flint. He passes it over wordlessly and she strikes it. It only takes one, the moment the spark touches the sap it bursts into a small flame, quickly taking over his pile of tinder and sticks.

They work together for the rest of the hour before Peeta suggests that they move on to another skill. They move down the line, stopping at the camouflage station, which makes Peet light up. She focuses on trying to mix colors to match the ones Peeta creates easily from mud or berries or clay. Meanwhile, he easily creates a scene on his own skin. She looks up from his arm as he steps away, backing himself against a mossy rock and checking his work. His arm practically disappears when he holds still and she can’t help the gasp that leaves her. “Peeta, that’s amazing.”

“I used to do the cakes at the bakery.” He flushes, looking to her with his chin down. The cakes he’s referring to are up in the window of the bakery, decorated in flowers and other pretty things painted in frosting. She had been by with Primrose many times, both enraptured by the sight of anything pretty.

This is how they pass the time until lunch. When time is called, they stand from their station (knots, much to Peeta’s dismay) and move to join the other tributes. They follow behind as the tributes are guided to a room off of the gym where the walls are lined with carts filled with food. She and Peeta find a cart that isn’t surrounded and pile their plates with a meat that reminds her of grouse or chicken, green beans, butter beans, and bread. She can’t help but grin when they come across a dish of small potatoes and piles some onto her plate before helping Peeta add them to his own. They find an empty table, sitting across from one another. Conversation should come easily, they certainly have plenty to talk about, but their conversation this morning with Haymitch makes any words that might come out stop, sticky in her throat.

She eats quietly, trying to avoid looking up in case Peeta is looking at her. Its only after she’s finished half of her plate that she sits back, wiping her mouth and looking to him. He’s looking at her, his own plate mostly finished. “Well,” He practically whispers, leaning forwards over the table. “Haymitch will want us to look friendly. Laugh, like I’ve said something funny.”

She covers her mouth, trying to make her nervous laugh sound more like a friendly one. He smiles at her, leaning back on his seat. “Now, your turn.” He directs quietly, settling his hand on the table, intertwined with one another. On impulse, she reaches across the table to smooth the tenseness from his fingers.

“Have I told you about the time we got chased by a bear?” She asks softly, still smiling nervously. Where they had melted the callouses from her hands, they left his rough. She runs smooth fingertips over his hands, feeling every crack and ridge, every burn that scarred his pale skin. He shakes his head, turning his hand over and taking hers in his hold. She clears her throat, sitting up a little straighter.

She tells the story, trying to mimic Asher’s animated storytelling but falling flatter. They’d been young and foolish enough to not back down from a bear that was in a hive. Honey, when they can collect it, is a valuable trade in the Hob. She’d been hoping for a new pair of boots for Asher, who’d outgrown his months before. Normally, black bears are easy enough to scare off if they’re alone. The issue is, bears can be hard to identify. Black bears aren’t just black, and grizzlies come in all shades. This particular grizzly seemed small, with a coat so dark it had looked black. That was, until it turned and the sun caught it’s coat differently. She’d been the one to spot the color, taking several steps back and throwing her arm out to her friends. It stood on its hind legs, threatening a bear often makes them show their true size, and it had been large. She’d cursed herself for not paying closer attention to the rounded shape of its ears, or the large hump of its shoulders. They’d had to climb high to avoid it, the bear too heavy to get to the branches they could at their size.

Peeta, better at this whole thing than she is, laughs and prompts her for more information at just the right times. ‘Wait, they’re not just brown? No, they come in lots of colors. That’s terrifying, how big was it? Maybe six and a half, seven feet.’ They laugh at her misfortune, garnering the attention of several other tributes. Facing them, she has a clear view as they turn to see the pair. Peeta notices her looking away, turning over his shoulder only long enough to see the others looking before he turns his gaze back on her. “Hey, why don’t we get some water and see if we can head back in.”

She looks past him again, catching sight of the careers. Some, like Marvel, are already looking. The massive tribute from Two is watching, smirking side by side with his district partner. She meets Marvel’s cool gaze and looks away, nodding. She sticks close to his side as they stand and move away from the table.

They stick by the drinks for the remainder of their hour lunch, only a handful of minutes, talking quietly. This is how their days pass, breakfast with Haymitch and Effie in the apartment, training, lunch, training, dinner in the apartment, bed. Rinse and repeat.

On the second day of training, they split in the mid morning to practice different skills. She’s no use in weight training, and even though she’s been instructed to avoid her skills, she’s hardly got any skill with a bow and arrow. It doesn’t count, not really.

She spots Thresh, the massive tribute from Eleven, wielding a knife of some kind in hand to hand training with one of the trainers. His dark skin beaded with sweat as he and the trainer trade mock blows, resetting periodically with a small nod and a tensing of his massive shoulders. She creeps closer, positioning herself just to the side of their session in order to get a closer look. Thresh seems to notice her, finishing out a round with the trainer before backing off, grabbing a hand towel from the trainer’s hand and wiping it down his face before stepping off of the platform.

“It’s all yours.” He offers, eyes trailing over the room as though to find his next stop. His low register startles her, but only for a moment.

“Oh, no. I just,” she gestures wordlessly to the platform and waiting trainer, eyes locked onto Thresh. “Just wanted to watch. You looked like you knew what you were doing, I guess.”

He eyes her warily, setting the massive blade and his towel down on the nearest table. His voice is honey sweet, a low comforting bass that rumbles low in his chest. “Not my first fight.”

“Guess you’ve got the advantage.” she smiles, hoping to keep him from running off. She wants him to like her, even just a little bit. Hopefully, that small acquaintance will keep him from killing her. “You’re Thresh, right?”

He nods, humming.

“Y/N.” She introduces. “What is that?”

He lifts the blade again, its curved blade glinting in the light of the room as he turns it over in his palms. “This is a hand sickle.”

He stretches out a hand, offering her the blade. She accepts it, surprised to find it lightweight. “Is this something y’all have in Eleven?”

“Sort of.” He answers, readjusting her grip on the handle with his own hands. He spins the blade so the interior of the curve faces outward, curving away from her body. “Just smaller, better made.”

She nods, watching as he chokes her hand up the handle. Once he seems satisfied, he backs away and grabs a matching blade. He swings it a bit, like he’s getting used to it. Then, he swings it in a powerful arch. She watches, mimicking the swing to the best of her ability.

He laughs a bit and it catches her off guard. For someone so serious, he’s got a wonderfully contagious laugh. She grins at entertaining him, cocking a brow. “Was it that bad?”

He shakes his head, smiling still. “Not bad, just clumsy. You ever used a blade before?”

She smirks, sinking her weight onto one hip. “Don’t have much reason, the coal doesn’t bite.”

He laughs again, tilting his head down and giving a single shake. His shoulders shake with his laughter and her grin grows impossibly larger.

They settle into a small routine. Thresh shows her a move, she tries to replicate it, he adjusts her, and she tries again. They exchange small conversation. By the time lunch rolls around, they’re joking around regularly. Thresh has settled back into his imposing look, but she keeps smiling.

She follows behind him as he collects a plate and moves to sit at an empty table. His tiny district partner joins shortly, sitting silently next to him and eating her food. She can’t help but eye her, its startling to see her here. Of course, there have been young tributes in the past, it isn’t even uncommon. Still, seeing her here, in person, is considerably more alarming than it would be to see it on television.

“What’s your name?” She asks, eyeing the little girl. Her head pops up, chin down and eyes finding Y/N’s gaze shyly. Her dark curls, somewhere between dark brown and black, are pulled back into two small buns at the base of her skull. She looks almost like a lamb with peacefully lowered ears.

She chews a moment, swallowing her food before she speaks. “Rue.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Rue. I’m Y/N.” Y/N smiles, trying to keep her face calm and happy. Her chest aches with the thought that this would have been Primrose. She wonders for a moment if they’d have gotten along before quickly correcting herself, everyone likes Prim.

Rue giggles, pulling a roll apart between her finger tips. “I know.”

The older girl laughs, finding talking to the girl easier than she imagined. They pass the first part of lunch easily before she stands, taking her tray in hand. The careers have been staring since yesterday, even now Marvel’s eyes are locked onto her. She can’t hep but be curious, but even so, she won’t attach herself to the tributes from Eleven. She excuses herself, looking for Peeta. He’s sat at a table with a couple of other tributes but none of them seem to be talking. She moves to a mostly empty table, save for the boy from Disrict Three.

Not wanting to intrude, she sits down the table from him. Its nice, to have a somewhat secluded meal. In the apartment she’s at a packed table, here she can distance herself. It’s not technically being in public, she and Peeta don’t have to always be attached.

Behind her, someone clears their throat. She suppresses a startled jump, turning over her shoulder to see what the fuss is about. The careers have abandoned their table in favor of hers, but it isn’t her that’s being accosted.

“Move.” The massive tribute from Two commands, setting his tray down firmly on the table. The boy from Three, the real target, gets the message quickly enough. He’s smart to not aggravate such a massive adversary so early, not when theres still so much to get through. She’s starting to collect her things when Marvel sets his tray beside hers, sitting a bit closer than she expected.

He’s giving her an odd look, something she can’t quite put a finger on. She hears sound in front of her and turns to see the tributes from Two taking the seats across from her, Marvel’s own district partner hovering behind them venomously. .

“Got a name, Twelve?” The boy from Two asks, a smirk on his face. She hesitates, wiping her hands down her pants.

“Its Y/N,” Marvel hisses at him, giving him an agitated look. He looks to her, bumpng her playfully with his shoulder. “Don’t mind Cato, the muscles dont let all of the blood reach his brain.”

Across the table, Cato huffs. She knows better than to laugh, instead looking to the two girls for a reaction. Cato’s district partner is tense but smiling, Marvel’s seems absolutely tickled at his jab tough her eyes remain hard on her. Cato laughs at this, glancing back and forth between the two. Giving in to the curiosity, she looks between the careers before settling to ask Marvel.

“Okay, what’s this?” She asks harshly, causing silence among the group. Cato laughs lowly, mumbling.

“Ooh, kitty’s got claws!” He laughs, leaning over to his partner. Y/N gives him a look before she can think better of it and the girl from One bristles behind them.

“We just think you’re interesting, Y/N.” Marvel almost purrs, leaning in closer to her. She chances a look away from the group, eyes searching for Peeta. He stands across the room, speaking quietly to Rue. He’s showing her something, but Y/N can’t see it.

“Aw, no need to call in your bodyguard.” The girl from One whines, leaning against Cato’s massive shoulder as though bored. “We just want to talk.”

“He’s not my bodyguard.” She says flatly. Theres no need to drag Peeta into this, not when she isn’t sure what they want. Leaning forward on the table, she looks into Cato’s eyes. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Well,” he murmurs, leaning towards her with a smirk. “we were wondering if you wanted someone to have your back in there.” Her eyes move to study each career, looking for some hint of their plans for her. Cato is smirking, oozing arrogance, and she knows that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. None of the careers would, but after seeing Cato train she feels especially in danger around him. His partner as well, even though she looks completely bored. She’s seen her throw her knives, she’s not one to be messed with. Marvel’s partner glares at her, obviously upset at the idea of her entering the group.

She leans back a bit, brows furrowing as she takes in the situation. “You want me to join you?”

Marvel laughs quietly, the sound makes her hair stand on end. A shiver runs up her spine and she fights down the blush at his proximity, clearing her throat. He reaches over to her, patting her thigh with a grin. “We do.”

She jumps at the contact, pulling her leg tighter to her body as the careers laugh. She splutters a bit, her words caught in her mouth as she scrambles to get them out. “I don’t understand. I’m not-“ She trails off, gesticulating nervously with her hands.

Cato shakes his head, his smile dropping. He leans back in his seat, framed on either side by the girls, and crosses heavy arms over his chest. It makes him look all the broader. “Doesn’t matter. If people like you, they like you.”

“If you want to join us, hang around.” The smaller girl says, her dark hair shiny under the lights. “We’ll know if you fit after the interviews, then we’ll send word to your mentor.”

She studies them, but finding any tell that they’re lying or baiting her would require her to know more about them. Perhaps the way the blonde twirls her hair around her finger is a nervous habit, or maybe Cato only seems dry and stoic because he’s hiding something.

Then again, perhaps that's nothing. Sighing, she nods. After all, what is there to lose? With Peeta’s strength, they’ll be an easy choice for careers. “Alright, I’ll let Peeta know.”

“No.” Marvel interjects, quick to reach a hand out for her arm. His hold is gentler this time, but still a bit too tight. “We just want you.”

—

The third day, part way through lunch, is when the private sessions begin. She’d spent the remainder of yesterday and the entirety of the morning following behind the careers as they moved stations. They focused heavily on showing off their skills. Clove, the girl from Two, was a master with knives. Cato favored a sword, Marvel was good with a spear. Glimmer, Marvel’s district partner, was decent with a bow.

Glimmer was something to see, she could see her succeeding in the games. Long, lean, and muscled, Glimmer looked like something off of a Capitol magazine. What she lacked in skills she made up for with her beauty and silver tongue. More than once, Cato had fetched her weapon from the rack or gotten up to get her something she asked for. All it took from her was a smile and the touch of her hand. Clove seemed upset about it, but even she said nothing.

Glimmer is the second person to be called for her private session, right after Marvel. As the female tribute for Twelve, Y/N has a long wait. At first the room seems to buzz with conversations, though all talking ceases the moment Cato leaves for his session. Clove has no interest in talking to her and, knowing she isn’t wanted, she stands and moves to find Peeta instead.

They sit in a tense silence as the other tributes are called and exit, waiting for their own names. When Thresh is called, Rue moves to sit closer to them. She talks quietly with Peeta, sparing Y/N glances every now and again though she doesn’t speak. When Rue is called, they’re left alone. The silence returns until Peeta is called. He sighs, standing and heading towards the door.

“Peeta,” She calls, startled by her own voice. He turns easily, brows raised as he waits for her to speak. “Just, remember what Haymitch said. Be sure to remember the weights.”

He nods, giving her a small smile. Her tense shoulders relax a bit as she prepares herself to be alone in the room. Continuing towards the door, Peeta calls back to her. His voice echos in the quiet room. “Thanks. Good luck, Y/N.”

She nods back. If she can’t win, she wants Peeta to. Its better for her family,for their district. If Twelve has a victor they’ll be given food for an entire year, which in turn gives next year’s tributes a better shot. For career districts, maybe this doesn’t matter.

When her name is called after what feels like an eternity, she stans and moves to the door. On the other side, the gamemakers sit up in their viewpoint, looking down on the training room floor. She moves to stand in front of them. Many seem to have enjoyed too much wine, talking and laughing loudly to one another as she approaches. They’ve been through twelve districts, plenty of time to finish at least a bottle a piece.

Still, there is nothing to do but enact Haymitch’s plan. Of her skills, only two could be worth showing. There is nothing to snare here but herself, or perhaps a training dummy if she could lug it across the floor. Off to the side, there is a rack of bows. Theyre made of a variety of materials and sit by matching quiversof arrows. She plucks a silver one from the rack, shouldering the quiver and taking a stance before the gamemakers. There are basic targets down range from the rack, but across the gym are move lifelike dummies, like the ones Clove used during training. They’re farther, but she’s shot smaller game at a greater distance.

The moment she pulls back the string she knows something is amiss. Unlike her bow back home, this one feels tight. She takes aim nonetheless, trying to avoid psyching herself out and insead taking a steadying breath in. Breathe, aim, let loose.

The arrow misses the dummy by several inches and she knows that she’s lost any attention they may have been paying her. She glances up, only managing to confirm her fears.

Instead of looking at her, all eyes are turned on a table behind them. A large pig has made an appearance, skin perfectly roasted a golden brown color. She forces herself to take a deep breath, turning back to her target. She nocks another arrow, steadying herself and adjusting her aim for this bow. When the arrow flies, its immediately clear to her that it’ll land. It sinks deep into the dummy’s head, nocking it’s head back in a graphically intense manner. The arrow sinks deep, surely protruding from the other side of it’s head. Right between the eyes, she smiles proudly. She turns back, excited to see the gamemakers reactions.

Still, the gamemakers are absorbed in their meal. They’re laughing, clapping one another on the back with huge smiles.

Frustrated and bordering on furious, she rips an arrow from her quiver, nocking it and pulling the bowstring taut. In the roast pig’s mouth rests a perfect red apple. She takes aim and lets go.

The arrow strikes the apple, flying a few feet further before pinning it to the wall. The gamemakers turn, and her stomach leaps into her throat. Why had she done that? She had never been an incredible shot, she’s lucky no one is horrifically injured or dead. Still, she curtsies low to them, hanging on to her confident air. “Thank you for your time.”

She rights herself, forcing her muscles to move slowly, to not shake. The bow is set back in its place. Her feet carry her quickly to the door to the elevator, slamming her hand onto the button to her floor without waiting for dismissal. Some mix of horror at herself and the motion of the elevator makes her stomach sink to her feet and the rise quickly into her throat. Why, why shoot an arrow at the people solely capable of making the next few weeks of her life hell? It was that pig, that damned pig. She’s facing her final days and they hadn’t even had the decency to pay attention to her.

More than that, it was her own temper. For the second time in the last week, she’d signed her own death certificate. She sinks against the back wall of the elevator, imagining the glass breaking and her plummeting to a quick death at the bottom of the elevator shaft.

#Peeta #Peeta Mellark #the hunger games peeta #THG Peeta #peeta mellark x reader #spark #The Hunger Games #Hunger Games #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games rewrite

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cetra · 5 months

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OC + Random Associations

[Image ID: A banner for my original character named Killian. To the left is a circle containing a portrait of a saint. Extending from the circle towards the right is a painting of gold stardust against a black backdrop. Towards the middle of the banner is the name “Killian” written in a zany typeface. /End ID.]

thank you @perpetuagf for tagging me to do this!! I went with Killian again sorry i know I'm being really annoying about him 😭🧡 and it was so fun.... ugh... we're so back. Tagging anyone who wants to do it + some of the usual suspects who do the OC thing @dekarios @avallachs @camelliagwerm @gwynbleidd @mightymizora @mythrae @sleepsvessel @dragonssxheart @latenna @dekariosgale @euryalex @loveofdetail @nightwardenminthara @stwaidwen @glamfellens @margaritalaux-antille @killerspinal @bladeofavernus @katagawajr @katsigian Sorry if i forgot to tag you I'm so out of the loop on here and i should probably be in bed by now, okay let's go

Animal: Lamb, several birds (doves, geese, kestrels), donkeys

Colors: Gold, black, brown, yellow

Month: in a world with our calendar, probably August

Songs: The Valley by The Oh Hellos, Holy Lands by Bill Miller, White as Snow by Rivers & Robots, Chains by Radical Face, Out of Our Heads by Sheryl Crow, UGH SO MANY GOOD ONES

Number: 2/two

Plants: Lilys, daisies, palms, chrysanthemums

Smells: Burnt wood, parchment, various oils

Gemstone: hmmm I'm not sure actually. something gold

Time of day: Late afternoon going into the evening when the sun casts a golden glow over everything, aka Killian's favorite time to nap

Season: Summer despite being born in Winter

Places: His home village especially on the riverbank and his father's tavern. once he ventured around the land he loved the ocean

Food: Meat, cheese, bread, starchy vegetables, apples, dried fruits, nuts, peppers, olives..... and he has a bit of a sweet tooth

Drinks: hot chocolate, cider, wine

Element: maybe air/wind

Seasonings: Assuming this includes spices and condiments etc. i'm thinking sea salt, cumin, nutmeg, and mustard seed

Sky: the summer sky especially when it's golden hour or like around the time I said he loved to take a nap

Weather: Sunny, warm or temperate

Magical power: Glowing and levitating (Believe it or not despite being probably the most powerful person in my world, he actually uses magic very infrequently lol)

Weapons: Knives/daggers, bow & arrow

Candy: Dried fruit if it counts, candied fruit peels, caramel, honeycomb

Method of long distance travel: Horseback or boat

Artstyle: oil paintings, tapestries, illuminated manuscripts, carved wood and stone, ancient cave drawings, much of my world can be inspired by the Book of Kells if that gives you a good idea

Fear: Failure, absolutely. failure!!!

Mythological creature: maybe a seraphim?

Piece of stationary: Parchment paper

Three Emojis: ☀️🕊️🗡️

Celestial body: yes..... the sun

Thanks for reading about my boy

#killian tag

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moonlit-mizukage · 1 month

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Chapter twelve

SUMMARY: Everything seems to be as normal as can be in Shiratorizawa's gang until Tendou's little sister, Y/n, meets a mysterious man named Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi is the right hand man of Seijoh. The two are quick to discover their true identities but continue meeting up I secret. Soon Iwaizumi develops feeling for Y/n and takes her back to his home. Matsukawa and Hanamaki unexpectedly make a visit to his home when they catch the two in bed together. Matsukawa is quick to recognize the face of Tendou Y/n. What will happen to Iwaizumi and Y/n? What happens when Oikawa finds out? Or worse, when Tendou finds out?

Trigger Warnings: swearing, violence, blood, knives, please keep in mind this is a gang au!

Taglist: open! Dm or comment to be added!

An: Sorry this stories been on Hiatus so long. My health hasn't been good at all but I'm back and better now :)

Y/n waited outside the classroom for Iwaizumi. She texted him with the information and where to find the class. Y/n was also looking to make sure Aone came by today or she’s screwed.

Iwaizumi walked up to the campus door closest to her classroom. He walked inside the building and walked up to Y/n.

“Hey Y/n.” He said. Y/n jumped a little for show.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen him yet so I was a little scared when you called me just now.” Y/n fake confessed. If there was one thing they were good at, it would be lying.

“It’s okay.” He pulled her in for a hug kissing the top of her head.

Y/n was surprised by the random show of affection he did with her given the situation at hand.

Iwaizumi pulled back.

“Shall we go inside?” He asked.

Y/n nodded as she walked inside the room.

It wasn’t long after Aone had come into the room. She pulled Iwaizumi’s sleeve. She motioned towards Aone with her eyes mouthing the word to him. Iwaizumi felt himself grow mad. He stayed seated though as the lecture went on. Iwaizumi couldn't think of a single thing besides killing this guy at that moment.

The lecture ended a few hours later as Iwaizumi and Y/n left the room. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but feel as if someone was following them. He led Y/n outside to a secluded area. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aone’s brute build. Iwaizumi paid close attention to Aone seeing him stare and take what he assumed was a few pictures.

After a couple hours, class ended and Y/n pulled Iwaizumi off to the sides.

“I think he took more pictures of me.” Y/n said, doing her best to make it believable.

“I definitely saw him take pictures.” Iwaizumi said.

What Iwaizumi didn’t know was that they prepped for this situation last night. They bought a new phone and loaded it with pictures, notes, and Y/n’s address. Aone’s new phone contained almost everything about Y/n except she was Shiratorizawa. Shirabu, Goshiki and Y/n prepared for the worst.

Iwaizumi began to walk from the room and follow Aone. He noticed Aone stopped and sat down. Iwaizumi told y/n to go ahead of him this time just to see how deep it goes.

Aone followed Y/n through the building while Iwaizumi followed him.

Y/n stood in line for food, Aone ordered exactly what she got, even went to the same cashier. Iwaizumi had enough.

“Hey buddy!” He shouted. Aone remained expressionless. “What the hell do you want with Y/n?” He asked as he stood in front of him now in the eating area.

“Who?” Aone played dumb.

“Don’t play dumb or I will pound your face in!” Iwaizumi threatened.

“I like her, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You stalked her! I know cause I followed you!”

“So you stalked me?” Aone asked.

Iwaizumi didn’t have a valid response so he grabbed Aone by the shirt and pulled him up from his seat. Aone growled. Iwaizumi pulled him really close to his face.

“Leave her alone or I will deal with you.” He warned.

“No.” Aone said, “I am not bothering her, I never approach her, so she's fine.”

“She’s terrified of you!!” Iwaizumi said. “You probably stalk her at home too, don’t you?” Aone remained silent. Iwaizumi grabbed his phone off the table, letting go of his shirt. “Unlock this!” Iwaizumi demanded.

“No.” Aone said simply.

Iwaizumi noticed it was a 4 number passcode. He typed Y/n’s birth year, it was wrong. He thought long and hard. Aone tried to grab the phone from his hand as Y/n finally walked up. She grabbed the phone and punched in 4 numbers. The phone unlocked. She stood there shocked.

“What did you type?” Iwaizumi asked.

“1113…..The date of my dads death….” Y/n was frightened, pretending to be like how he would know.

Iwaizumi was falling for the scam. He pulled the phone out of Y/n’s hand and opened the photos. There were over 1500 photos of Y/n. Some at school, the store, in a car from far away and the worst, photos of her sleeping in bed through her window.

“How the hell did you get these photos?” Iwaizumi snapped.

“I did my research.” Aone said.

“This isn’t research! You're a creep!” Iwaizumi went to grab ahold of him again but Y/n stepped in between them.

“Aone, how do you know the date of the father’s death?” She asked, she was visibly shaking.

“I did my research on you, Y/n. I think we should be together. I know you and this guy aren't official.” He said.

Iwaizumi let out a low growl.

“How dare you! You better leave my girlfriend alone or I will personally kill you!” Iwaizumi snapped.

“Girlfriend? Ha. I know she's nothing more then a fuck to you.” Aone said.

Iwaizumi grabbed his shirt collar once again and ripped him up to his face.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up!” He growled in his face. Iwazumi pulled out a knife. People started to run away from around them, leaving it to be just the three.

“What the fuck?” Aone raised his hands in defense. “Y/n I didn’t agree to this.”

“Agree to what?” Iwaizumi snapped.

Aone ripped his hand off his collar and backed away.

“Ushijima will be hearing about this.” Aone said before running off.

Iwaizumi turned to y/n, eyes wide and full of panic.

“Did he say Ushijima, as in the leader of Shiratorizawa?” He asked.

Y/n stood in pure shock. Iwaizumi looked to Aone as he began to chase him down, wanting more information.

Shirabu, Goshiki, Kindachi and Kunimi approached her.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” Shirabu asked.

“Hajime�� he just found out……”

“Found out what?” Goshiki asked with a gulp.

“About our secret.” Y/n said

Shirabu and Goshiki looked terrified.

Masterlist

Taglist: @universal-s1ut @what-dose-nani-mean @johnnysactualgf @dontmindtheevie @opchara

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu smau #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu mafia #haikyuu mafia au #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #hq iwaizumi

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nadiajustbe · 1 year

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Random Scarlett and Browne series headcanons because this fandom needs content (there was supposed to be more Albert, but it turned out to be a little bit for everyone)

He literally adores comfortable knitted sweaters, I mean, he canonically lived in one in the first book, but hear me out: when choosing, his favorite would be purple, followed by brown and light and dark gray.

Albert would have loved those coloured animal patches that they sometimes give to children in hospitals. I mean, I don't know what animal species are left alive in their world, but giraffes or tiger cubs would have been good for him. It's just cute, don't look for logic.

He is sometimes picky about food, in terms of, of course, the harsh realities of survival with Scarlett, he will eat whatever he can, but I think if possible he would have some kind of limited diet of favourite foods and dishes.

Scarlett, on the other hand, eats and loves absolutely EVERYTHING, because it is literally the only way for her to survive and she is used to taking whatever comes to hand. Although, I think she has some favorites too: fish and meat, most probably not so much greens (??? at least because they are not so easy to get and process, and also because I think so). But with all that said, she doesn't really think about it in most moments.

Joe, in contrast to this, also likes meat and fish, but he leans more towards fish because, c'mon, he literally lives and moves on a raft, he doesn't have that much choice, so I'm sure he can fish well)

Scarlett doesn't like chocolate, Albert likes milk chocolate or chocolate with nuts.

Ettie loves all kinds of sweets, although she hasn't had many in her life, so she enjoys fruit, for example.

Thomas also loved sweets, and it was literally the only reason they were ever in the McCain household in the first place. (I absolutely do not want Ettie to bring up Scarlett's trauma in any way, but there you go)

I saw a headcanon, it was @mellowkotto's I think, about Scarlett being terrible at playing computer survival games, and it really fits, but listen.

Albert is a very fast learner, so he would be really good at survival games because he would understand the mechanics and the rules of the game very quickly. This would create a pretty strong contrast, because in reality, things are a little different even after Albert's survival lessons. This led to a whole series of headcanons between me and my bestie about how they would play Minecraft, but that's a topic for a whole another post.

That's the only thing I'm saying from there: Albert built himself a house, tamed a dog, an ocelot and built a garden on his first day of play.

Scarlett spent the whole night trying to kill monsters with her bare hands because she's so angry that there are no knives or guns in this "bloody game" (don't tell her about mods), but then she just burrowed into the ground a few blocks down to survive.

Albert likes his pillow and bed to be warm

Scarlett likes her pillow and bed to be cold.

(It doesn't matter anymore, because if they share a bed, Albert canonically will be sent to sleep on the floor)

Albert falls asleep quickly, almost instantly, no matter how easy or hard or crazy the day has been.

Scarlett falls asleep for a long time thinking about her past and the results of the day, and even meditation doesn't always help. (Because they are both traumatised, except that Albert tends to ignore his traumas/not trigger them much, and Scarlett tends to live in them more than she wants to.)

Albert likes to play with Ettie, spinning small rocks or things in the air in front of her in a circle, like an invisible juggler when no one is looking.

Scarlett is pretty good when she needs to draw a quick sketch of a plan on a piece of paper, although she usually prefers to analyse the situation on the fly and keep everything in her head. And she and Albert are both terrible artists, seriously, some of Ettie's drawings are much better than what they can create even as a team.

(Although I think Albert would like to practice to better understand Ettie, for whom drawing is her preferred method of communication instead of words)

Both Scarlett and Joe are quite canonically gamblers, the only difference is that Scarlett spends large sums of money on gambling, not really caring about winning (she has trauma, just leave her alone), Joe mostly plays for fun, playing, for example, cards with Sal, for example, with a maximum bet of a few coins for show.

Mallory has been trained formal, clean language while working for the Faith Houses and the authorities, and so even if he speaks in a threatening and violent manner, his speech always remains calibrated. Therefore, it was another minus to his perception at Scarlett that she greeted him with a bunch of curses and a fist directly to his face from the truck cab.

And, regarding Mallory, in his childhood at Stonemoor, he would try to bring Dr Calloway some kind of gift after her "experimental sessions", whether it was a flower from a vase or a crooked drawing. Calloway was genuinely pleased with such thing, not because she really loved Mallory, but because it was the clearest indicator that her system was working and that this child was definitely attached to her and would do what he was told.

Despite the fact that Scarlett had the cuss-box after she joined the Brothers of the Hand, I really wish that the idea to pick up this tradition had come to her on her own, not on someone else's suggestion. Perhaps she had a similar jar for monitoring bad habits in her old house and then remembered it.

#the outlaws scarlett and browne fanart #the notorious scarlett and browne #scarlett and browne #scarlett mccain #albert browne #headcanons #don't search for logic #please tell me if any of this is against canon #because I can forget details(

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hollowcreeps · 5 months

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Jeff The Killer Headcanons

Jeffrey has a tattoo machine and has given himself many tattoos. He's not actually bad at it. He definitely has a half sleeve.

Is actually really good at drawing. He doesn't have an art style. He just wings it.

He named his knives. Fight me.

He listens to all kinds of metal. Nu metal? Black? Metal? He has a wide variety.

He likes slasher films. His favorite was sleepaway camp but then he watched Idle Hands.

His room is covered in band posters and horror movie posters.

It's also pretty dirty. He doesn't clean up after himself well, but it isn't filthy. He has clothes littered and he doesnt change his sheets (if he has any at all)

He has eyelids in my universe. He also wears eyeliner. He paints his nails too.

He really likes cucumbers..like..he realy likes them. The other creeps are concerned.

He also loves cherries.

He drinks. A lot. It's not as bad as it was but he still does it quite a bit. His poison of choice is peanut butter whiskey.

He drinks the original monsters and thinks it makes him better than others. He thinks he's the shit for not drinking the other kinds.

Some parts of his skin is messed up from being burned. Don't mention it unless you want a knife thrown at your head.

Jeff has no problem eating some foods raw or undercooked. He has been seen eating raw pasta, under baked brownies, slightly undercooked hamburger meat. It's a hazard at this point.

He has a habit of choking on his food. He either doesnt chew it enough or unintentionally breathes in while eating.

He is a prankster. He will set clocks to different times so no one knows what's right, and will even do it on whoever is unfortunate enough to keep their phone unlocked. He once switched some of everyone's clothes out. Ej had Toby's favorite sweater, toby had one of sally's dresses, clockwork had one of Jane's dresses-it was awful.

He carves shit into random places. There is a stick figure etched into ej's bed frame and he carved "dick" into Jane's bookshelf. People have to routinely check for carvings that the smiling psycho has left behind. Slenderman got so sick of it, that jeff can find wooden disks around specifically for him to carve on.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #slender mansion #slenderverse #jeffrey hodek

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gummybugg · 6 months

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Meet my OC Blair from Crater City!

hi hi! i brought a detailed character bio! yay! enjoy the headshot i drew!

Inspired by that one picrew @ reelrollsweat made!

Detailed Bio under the cut!

˗ˏˋ [intro]

Name: Blair (he/him)

Role: protagonist

Dob: Jan 10; aged 23

Sexuality: bi

Mbti: esfp

Occupation: in-universe equivalent of an uber driver (which is lowkey illegal since he hijacks auto-cars)

bio / summary: Moves to Crater City from the outskirts for a chance to pursue computer/technology and to find a place he can finally belong. Quits college and his white collar job because they were “too boring,” much to others’ dismay. Once his bff Elijah gets jumped by his supposed creditors, Blair vows to do whatever it takes to avenge his best friend even if that involves getting his hands dirty.

˗ˏˋ [appearance]

Height: 5’3”

Hair: very dark brown, mullet, full of cowlicks

Skin: beige

Eye: very dark brown

build / physique: build to last (chubby/sturdy)

notable features: acne scars, multiple cuts/scars, missing left pinky, slight beard stubble, sharp canines, double ear gauges, double helix piercings in each ear, tongue piercing

clothing style: some random guy who rolled out from under your bed (cargo shorts + a band tee)

˗ˏˋ [more]

tag for your oc: blair, blair core

aesthetic / vibe / tropes: just some dumbass in a post-apocalyptic hellscape; heart motif

traits / quirks: follows his heart, lives in the moment, loyal to those he loves, tries and fails to keep promises, tends to be self-centered/stuck in his head, party animal, turbulent, vulgar at times, will fight even if all odds are stacked against him, noticeably fidgets/stims according to emotion, excessive use of alliteration and odd metaphors, can talk someone’s ear off for hours at a time

quotes: “Let scientists do what they want with this body. There's enough Blair to go around for everyone!” / “C’mon man, get up, you know we can't afford an ambulance!” / “Oh, so you're mad at me because I wanted to avenge my best friend? Excuse me for thinking my best friend’d wanna help me dispose of the body!”

fun facts: croc-enthusiast, terrible driver, perfect at parallel parking, left-handed, has unusual luck

hobbies / skills: going to bars, dancing, playing video games until 5 am, collects knives/road signs/keys/rocks, creates robot pets that don't last very long, knife tricks with his balisong, doodling, creating characters

likes: the color red, frosted animal crackers, sweet food, night driving, talking about his hyperfixations, hugs, rock music, buying shirts with funny quotes on them, listening to Elijah play his guitar/sing

dislikes: being called crazy/a freak, the constant chatter in his head, loud/bright places (when sober), when people don't believe him, the dentist's office, condescending people, the rich

moodboard:

playlist

(may update this page as I see fit!)

...

🚗 Want to rot your brain with each sporadic Crater City post? Join the taglist! Maybe I'll finish this wip someday, who knows! (dm to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23 @talesfromtheunknowable

#writeblr #character intro #oc intro #my oc #blair #crater city wip #my character #oc art #character sheet #my art #had a little fun in the drawing process #it was a learning curve #ive been out of practice for a bit hehe #Spotify #oc playlist

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datastate · 10 months

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augh. i’m on mobile now so i can’t write out my every detailed thought (though i will probably a longer post on this later with basic descriptions for other people’s refs + for me to reflect on when/if i can draw them out), but the gist of a few of the main scenes in my mind:

- kai: very few personal items that are not clothes or gifts. never buys more food than need be, and always sets up his living space to be something that can easily be repacked and moved elsewhere. if it weren’t for his bedroom and the chidouins’ vase of flowers in the kitchen, you wouldn’t realize anyone even lived in this apartment.

- sara: the chidouins have photos of family hanging up in a lot of places, and mr. chidouin displays a photobook next to his safe on the shelving. their walls are made of dark red wood, having a warm & rich (literal and figurative) feel to it... usual upkeep thanks to kai, but they have a bit of traditional fabric as the table setting + in blankets, and then custom furniture... sara lives at the furthest end of the house, & her window is barred off... but her father gifted her a telescope. and has a desk in her room to focus in evenings so her parents can relax w tv or talking. mr. chidouin has an office on the other end of the house, reinforced soundproofing in these walls. sara has a jewelry box and small music box she keeps in the jewelry box’s drawer.. ahh and so much more.. so much more. i will leave that for later.

- reko: an apartment that’s generally clean (bc she has friends over often), jackets strewn around near the door (she doesn’t wanna stick her jackets in with her normal clothes, and doesn’t have any other closet really) & her shoes haphazardly shoved into the shoe cabinet (except her boots). with posters plastered up in her room, almost always has a candle set on top of her dresser that’s lit. a camera at her bedside, with cool knives in her drawer. has a slightly elevated bed, with instruments tucked in the section beneath & hidden by her sheets falling over the side of the bed. so on... mostly smaller, random things hanging around to indicate she’s here. she has random notebooks she often forgets she leaves out with sketches/notes/lyrics/people's numbers, it's a fun surprise for later! (read: a friend finds it and asks her what the tagalog means and she is like hm. something management won't like. lemme rewrite this chorus and we can try it)

- shin: family has cats... they mostly stay in his room, & with general cleanliness, he rarely reuses clothes and has his laundry hamper at the end of his bed that the cats climb up to sleep with him at night. family keeps a photobook, but has no photos actually hanging around. shin’s bed is against the wall furthest from the window, which has a (now sunbleached) blanket thrown over it instead of a proper curtain because they went so long without actually getting one that’d keep the sun from peering in and waking him up despite staying up until 4am and wanting to sleep in. whole computer + desk + high quality speakers in his room with a specified drawer of labeled hard drives. very clean; despite wavering energy, he sanitizes & replaces his sheets at least once every two weeks.

- keiji: went into this a bit earlier, but yeah... unorganized place. dishes on his kitchen counters instead of cupboards, which just contributes to ingredients being in the living room of all places; has a chair in his room w clothes that aren’t dirty enough to warrant cleaning yet; tools he idly messes with & mail he has to read just tend to pile up wherever he tried settling down to work with it... mostly struggles to manage repetitive menial things on his own.

- kanna: so so many flower & other plants :] has a large tree just outside her window that she used to fantasize of crawling out of her window and climbing down. names plants, though kugie struggles to keep up. has a lot of sketches of plants scattered around because kugie keeps forgetting to buy a folder for her to put them in so they aren’t all over their dresser & the floor, but keeps her plant pattern-pressing book on her at almost all times, otherwise it’s in their shared bedside drawer. kanna is the one who likes changing sheets & finds putting on bedsheets enriching... theey have a full body mirror that the kizuchis’ grandfather made that kanna stuck so many stickers on when she was younger. kugie keeps her backpack next to her bed, in-between the table drawer; kanna has hers hanging on the foot of her bed..

+ more later...ahhi’m. so asleep. goodnigh

#i repeated myself w the last two augghg...!! it's fine.. i hope you enjoy nonetheless...#they are so distinct in my mind's eye... reflecting so many things about eachperson in the most subtle ways #jestersvaguely #yttdposting #long post

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fireworkreindeer · 1 year

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Requested by @gender-theif fluff of some of the rats from ratsSmp with some chaos cause, why not?

Blue eyes opened as Scott yawned, sitting up in bed. His nap was lovely and decided to go and check upon his crops. He slips out of bed, places his overalls on, his hat, and makes his way to his garden. "Hey, Hey! Leave those carrot tops alone!!" He yells, grabbing his broom. There in his garden, sat Tubbo, Bek and Shelby. He swiped his little broom, chasing the three out of his garden. "Hey! I was enjoying some nice carrot leaves there, farmer boy!" Yells Bek, scampering to the other side of the attic. "No one touches my crops!!!" He yelled back, stamping his foot. He stares at the half eaten carrot tops, and his pumpkin has been nibbled on. "Why are you yelling, Scott?" Asks Owen. "Bek, Shelby and Tubbo ate the food I was growing" he whined. Owen sighs and goes off to find them. Scott just sits there, in the dirt, and cries over his crops.

"Why were you guys in Scott's garden?" Owen asks when he finds the three. "We were hungry!" Whines Tubbo. "And you said we can't go down the attic alone" says Shelby. "But why not?" Bek asks. "Cause I don't trust you three to be on your own down there" "But I can just beat up the humans!" Bek begins to show off their boxing skills and punches Tubbo in the face. "Tubbo! Oh I'm so sorry" Tears form in his eyes as he cries. "Owwwww! That really hurt!" He wails. "Tubbo, I'm sorry" "I'm telling Olive!" He runs off to find them. "No! Don't tell the lawyer rat!!!" Yells Bek, chasing after him. "I DON'T WANT ANOTHER LAWSUIT!!!!!!" "You know what? I'm not gonna ask"

"So this is how its gonna go?" Owen turned to his left and made his way over to Lizzie, Jimmy and Martyn. "Yeah! Nothing can go wrong-" "What are you doing?" The three froze, shoving their plans begin them. "Nothing!" Spoke Martyn and Jimmy. "Going over our plans to kill the cat" "Lizzie" hisses Martyn, giving her a nudge with his paw. "Explain to me this 'plan' of yours" "Right! Its simple:

Step 1: Find the cat

Step 2: Kill the cat

Step 3: Take the play thing from the blue room

Step 4: Party time!!!!" Smiles Martyn.

"That's it? That's your plan?" The three nod. Owen places his face into his paws. "That is, by far, the most stupidest plan I've ever heard!" "What do you mean its stupid? It's foolproof!" protests Jimmy. "Because you dummies missed out on important factors:

One, the humans. How do think the humans would feel, seeing three rats with knives, trying to kill the cat?

And two, how are you gonna get that play thing, up here, without being seen by any human? That's crazy!"

"But it is possible" spoke Lizzie. "No. No it's not. Please don't go down and try to kill the cat" Sighs Owen, scampering away. The three look at each other and grin, pulling out their knives and holding them high. "To killing the cat!!!" Yells Lizzie. "TO KILLING THE CAT!!!" the three race off to find the cat.

"So, did you like it?" Smiles Acho. "Yeah... Its good but, its so sad! Can't you write something that isn't sad?" Asks Sniff. Acho thinks for a while before writing on a scrap of paper and with a piece of lead from a pencil.

"Watching the flowers grow

Oh no! I stubbed my toe!

I hit it on the door

And now I'm on the floor

And get hit on the head with a broom!"

"Can't you write anything happy!?" "What's 'happy'? Can I eat it?" Acho asks. "HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT 'HAPPY' IS?!" "I DON'T KNOW!!!"

During all of this chaos, Krow went around, stole a bunch of random stuff from the other rats and ran back up to the rafters. "KROW!!!! GIVE ME BACK MY CARROT TOPS!!!" wailed Scott, chasing after Krow. "Why is it so annoying?!" whined Scott. "I'm the best thief around!" It smiles, hiding in the rafters, eating carrot tops.

#squeaksblr #rats smp #ratssmp #krowfang #dangthatsalongname #jimmy solidarity #ldshadowlady #inthelittlewood #ggacho #snifferish #bekyamon #Tubbo #owengejuicetv

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izzy-b-hands · 1 year

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I think Roach is probably better than he knows at conflict resolution

both with a cleaver or knife during a raid (it's still technically conflict resolution) and with the crew day to day

I've got this thing in my head that if asked, he wouldn't like. register? that he's good at this bc it's probably on autopilot after years at sea with a bunch of random assholes depending on the ship/port

Like some grumpy morning for everyone, one of those where everyone is already kinda pissed off and every little thing that happens after is a countdown to a migraine, outburst, crying fit, or some combination. They're in each other's way and the sea is stormy and god they all want to go the fuck back to bed

But instead Ed recommends a course towards a cove that won't magically keep them safe from the weather, but it's less intense near that spot for whatever reason (and does it matter when ppl are slipping on the wet deck, and then shouting wordlessly into the sky as if condemning the water cycle itself? If it helps, it helps enough)

Once that's settled Roach wanders into the galley and preps, aka preps for himself. Something to smoke, coffee and water, plus something to nibble on before he starts rolling out everyone else's breakfast options.

And there's a lot for this day. He maybe spent too much at the last set of market stalls, but they have variety for awhile again. That's worth it.

(this is where we hop off the historical accuracy train and Roach gets access to whatever foods he wants for this)

Frenchie and John are first in, still arguing over something to do with the weather (Roach honestly can't recall because EVERYONE is arguing today. He knows it had to do with some weather superstition at least.)

Wordlessly, he starts handing them jams and marmalades to open and help plate along the galley table, because he's going That Fancy. Big ass display to graze off of, to keep people in carbs and extra sweet or savoury little bites. It's really more of a brunch, in the end, but it's also four in the morning so also still breakfast?

Frenchie and John quiet into a conversation about the new spreads and if any of them might unseat Ed's favourite marmalade as the best one.

It's nice.

Jim and Olu aren't shouting, but they're also fuming enough to make the galley heat up just by their walking in.

So without thinking Roach hands them knives and loaves of fancy bread and points to the plates to present them on.

The room chills out. A conversation sparks up about seeing if they could budget for any of this food they really like, even just now and agai-

And there's Izzy, sopping wet and absolutely irate as he stomps into the room (though Roach notices seaweed on his clothes, and that's a clue enough that something probably happened to earn this ire)

As it happens, he finds out Izzy slipped overboard and scraped the fuck out of himself getting back onboard. When he got back up, everyone had already left and wandered off.

Roach finds him a towel and a cup of coffee bc he isn't going to let him get salt water in the goddamn prep space

once he's dried off, Roach mentions the need to brew more coffee and tea and Izzy is in the pantry looking for more before he finishes his sentence

The galley grows pleasantly warm as more of the crew stomp or cry or sigh their way in, each casually assigned something to do

Eventually, he realises there's not actually much for him to do. The space is full of people, plating and arranging and helping to make it look as good as if they were having guests over

He wanders out to the deck after telling them it'll only be a moment, wrapped in Ed's coat that he insisted he take, with a mug of warm tea in his hands that Izzy practically shoved at him oddly sweetly?, and a plate of the snacks they've been putting together

And he has a lovely, damp, very early but relaxing brunch in the rain

#text post #long post #at some point the rest of them will realise how hungry they are and that fancy display will be gone in a flash aksnfkgn #but that's the joy of it! sharing space and food and !!!!!!

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brandycranby · 7 months

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brandy!!!! a raccoon mug for me? 🥺💕 ahhh it’s so cute!! 😍 would steve get something like that for hybrid!reader? or bucky maybe? she and bucky must be an absolutely chaotic (and iconic) duo 😌

awwwwe you know what, the promise of (smutty) wrestling would make me get into bed immediately, too! steve just has the best bribes 🫣😋 ehh and a midnight snackie? yeeees imagine a sleepy stevie following her into the kitchen and just sitting at the counter half asleep while she’s rummaging through the fridge for food 🫠

also, it is confirmed, am definitely a raccoon: https://www.instagram.com/reel/CsbobGjAMct/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== 👀🦝

you know, I was thinking abt re-watching knives out this weekend (bc fall weather is finally here) and then I was wondering how ransom would react to raccoon!reader 😅 I think he would not be able to handle the chaos! buuuuuuut: hybrid!reader would loooove his soft knitted sweaters and his shiny hair 🥹 and another totally random thought: does hybrid!reader know her birthday? does she celebrate it? 👀☺️

okay haha this is a very chaotic ask, but here you go! have another forehead kissie 💋 and a biiiiig hug 🫂🥰 sending you much love and the bestest vibes for the weekend 💕🤲🏼🌸

-🦝

my squishy raccoon nonnie 🥰🥰 ty for kissie n hug 😣💕 sending u one right back w the mug

hehe i think steve and co would get her all the raccoon stuff!! she's always seeing cute cat stickers and puppy merchandise online 🥺 i bet she feels left out as one of the "undesirable" hybrids. but we should value all kinds of animals (and hybrids)!! she gets some mugs, some t-shirts. bucky and wanda send her memes and comics every day and they all make sure she feels extra special on her birthday. i think she does know it but didn't really celebrate while she was out in the wilds 🥲 now she gets a big big cake that steve orders a month in advance!! and lotsa presents!!

OOOOOOOH now that i'm thinking about ransom and raccoon hybrid!reader!! i bet it's a love-hate relationship. or love-admiration on reader's part (big shiny soft smells GREAT has food and blankets love love love) and annoyance from ransom (meanie). but he likes the admiration and attention probably hehe and he'll grow to cherish her 🥺💕

ty for always sending the good vibes and love!! i hope you're feeling a lot better and good luck with your new semester coming up <333

#brandy answers #raccoon anon <3 #sweet anon <3 #my asks #raccoon hybrid!reader

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enzie-ki · 8 months

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31-34 (sleep meme)

sleep related headcanons!

31. does your muse wake up hungry or do they need some time to feel hungry?

If I wake up early, I'm not so hungry, but if I wake up late? There better be food somewhere nearby because if not, you'll have to deal with grumpy Enzeru, or someone's going to wake up with 4 fingers.

32. what is your muse's mood like when they wake up? are they grumpy, cheerful, confused, etc?

I'm usually pretty cheerful once I get out of bed, emphasis on get out, when I wake up, don't bother me unless there's an emergency. I can be a bit confused sometimes, because I do sleepwalk sometimes, and I'll go to sleep in my bed, and wake up in a random hallway, or outside Kuina's room, or outside Chishiya's room, or with a concerning amount of knives in my hands.

(These events are not mutually exclusive)

33. when sharing a bed with someone else, is your muse a cuddler?

I'm a big cuddler in general, so yes, unless I really, really dislike you, in which case, instead of waking up with my arms around your waist, you'll wake up with them around your neck.

34. has your muse ever cried themselves to sleep?

Not recently, but I probably did when I was a kid. Probably over nightmares or spiders or something like that.

#aib rp #aib roleplay #roleplay #alice in borderland roleplay #rp meme #alice in borderland rp #aib #askbox games #aib oc #enzie-ki #in character #amafuji enzeru

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