#it's what he's trained in it's what he's been taught it's how he exerts power in a life where he's desperate for more of it

[derangedthots]

Hi how are you, I saw this here and thought of Jacemond and You immediately.

"actually the best ship dynamic is i would kill for you. i would kill anyone who layed a hand on you. please let me kill for you. please let me show my devotion by dirtying my hands, it's the only way i know how. Let me destroy anything that hurts you. i've hurt you too. i'm destroying myself."

I screamed internally when I read it.

Any thoughts?

yes. my thoughts are yes and Yes and also YES again just *cries screams claws hair* yes.

#ask #anon #jacemond #smth smth aemond's love language is violence bc of course it is he knows he's good at it #it's what he's trained in it's what he's been taught it's how he exerts power in a life where he's desperate for more of it #it's his agency and to give hand it over to someone else to give someone else his hands his sword is his oath #his devotion #his devotion cuts and it cuts deep #smth smth kissing the palms he's injured before slicing his own and then lifting his blade to defend jace while still bleeding #oh oh they make me crazy fr

[diejager]

Hi this is my first ask! So uhm how would you feel abt writing a Capitano fic? Nsfw maybe? HES been my fav character since release BUF THERES BARELY ANY SMUT OF HIM 😭 so ^^ you can pick the theme and how ever you do it cause your writing is <3333 💓💓

Hmmmmmmm, it was really really interesting to write. I tried since I don't know much about him, but eh. Dude's hot, especially his voice.

Il Capitano smut

Cw: bruises, smut, fingering, riding, rough sex, wall sex, exhibitionism, creampie, alcohol,

Note: I tried making this gn- probably sucked bad but uh... enjoy?

Wc: 1306

A stoic and cold man, he was, yet so dignified and respectable within the ranks of the Fatui. He spoke scarcely, only keeping his orders to short sentences when he addressed those lower than him, but his deep tone sent everyone scurrying to do s they were told for fear to enrage the captain of the Fatui's army.

You weren't different, holding an average rank within the fresh recruits from last year, new but used to this treatment towards everyone lower than the Harbingers. You followed close by, standing a few feet away from The Captain - as per his order to follow him whenever you're not accomplishing an assignment - silent but unbothered by his pretence.

You didn't dare fathom what made him so keen you have you by his side, at his back and call whenever he wished. If he called for you, you'd answer quickly; if he told you off, you'd stand there; if he gave you an order, you'd do it; whatever he said goes.

A needy moan left your lips, hips grinding into his palm. Capitano's long fingers were deep within you, curling as he moved roughly, thrusting his fingers in and out at a delirious pace. Your face bled red, and your body burning with unbridled need, panting and gasping while he stayed collected, face hidden under the darkness of his mask and black locks ripping down his shoulders. Although he was silent as he always was, you could feel his gaze on you, it was solely devoted to watching your walls crumble around you, letting pleasure take hold of your rational mind.

You rocked your hips, trying to bury his fingers deeper as you called out his name, the title everyone called him with fear, respect or pain, but yours was lust-filled.

You knew he kept a close eye on you whenever you left this side, he would gaze down the window of his office that faced the training ground, watching you defend and return blows after blows. You often triumphed over the others, you were determined and strong - not as much as he or the other Harbingers were, but it was... respectable.

It was enthralling to see someone much fragile and smaller training with the older soldiers, still young with so much promise. How often did he see you train outside of his supervision, exchanging blows with the soldiers and trainees that agreed to hold a small skirmish? He saw the callousness of your fingers, the bruises and cuts that littered your arms and legs. If it were possible for you to reach his heights in power and strength, to be able to train you personally would be enchantingly tempting. To teach you the way of the sword or polearm in clearer ways than the sloppy trainers that taught the fresh soldiers. To be closer to you than when you stood beside or behind him, to be able to touch you without breaking a bone.

For someone who rarely paid attention to weaker people, he was extremely attentive to your needs. Back arched to meet his crotch and hands clutching the wall for your dear life, Capitano pushed you against the alley wall with each thrust. His low grunts and groans were muted by your loud moans as he filled you over and over, hasty and deep thrusts that were made easier with the sleek that ran down your thighs. Your knees shook, weak from exertion, you would've fallen if it weren't for his solid grip on your waist, pulling and pushing you. The more noise you made the more you feared that others would hear you, mouth shakily cupping your mouth to muffle your screams, letting a few blabber and whines leave as you called him.

How many times have you cum? How many times had you screamed his name, unaware of how a few lingering ears caught on to what was happening? How many times has he filled you? Your mind was numb, nearly fucked dumb as you waiting for Il Capitano to finish. Both dried and fresh tears stained your cheeks, eyes puffed up and red as you creamed once more around his shaft, still hard and filling the void he created. Eyes wide at the mind-numbing orgasm, you hunched over, depending heavily on your boss to hold you up; and hold you up he did. Pushing you firmly against the wall, his right hand twisted and pulled your thigh up. The change of position made you shriek, moaning when he hit deeper than before, cum leaking every time he pulled out and rammed back without a stagger. You clenched around him, feeling the tell-tale sign of another orgasm that had you teetering between the lines of consciousness and unconsciousness. Capitano's pace stuttered, hips rocking irregularly until it stopped, snug between your walls that enraptured him as he filled you with another load.

Panting lightly, Capitano backed off, peering down at your gasping figure that slid to the ground, face and palm placed flat on the cold wall - you hopped it would cool down the fire that boiled within you - without a single mutter that would indicate what he did to you.

"Were going back," his deep rumble shook your core, still fresh out of the lust-crazed haze he put you in.

Even on missions - albeit rarely - he would bring you along, the occasional revisions of borders or attacks he would lead. Wherever he went, he had a strong hold on you, needing your presence by him. If he entered the battle, you needed to stay within his sight, all the while you fought as if your life depended on it - it did. You would gawk at him if you could, how swift and strong his hits were, sending his enemies flying and falling until they gave up or died. He was merciless and dangerous, so much so that those who knew him hesitated to move against him. Although ruthless, he was patient and calm, almost eerily so from words you heard, but you digressed, you learned from experience that he was a great man. Rough on the edges but dependable.

Sitting on his lap, cock pulled between your thighs and harshly thrusting into your warm walls, you yelped as he moved you to ride him. Your knees bent under you, hands clutching onto his forearm for support. A drawled-out moan escaped your lips as he hit deep, cock twitching before he continued to ram against the spot that made your mind reel with pleasure.

"Ca-Capitano-" you cried out, head rolling to the side.

His only reply was a gruff grunt, bucking his hips to meet your mid-thrust. Rough and merciless, he chased his pleasure thoughtlessly with little regard for yours, but whatever he did to you had you begging for more - even unintentionally. The thick walls of the tent did little to quiet your moans that echoed out in the cold of Snezhnaya's borders, reaching the ears of the drunk and sober soldiers around the campfire. Dignity lost in the torrent of passion, you only saw the world inside the Captain's warm tent, made hotter by the sweat that coated your naked body and the heat of your lovemaking.

His grip would leave bruises, adding to the ones on your arms and legs from training. If he couldn't leave any from fighting, he would do it through sex, leave marks of his own in the forms of purple and blue swells on your waist, hip, thighs, arms and neck.

He may be cruel, unforgiving and silent towards others, but with you, he could be attentive, caring and loving in his way, whether physical or not, he wanted you to be a part of his solemn existence in the Fatui.

#genshin capitano #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #il capitano #capitano x reader #Il capitano smut #capitano smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #fatui harbingers #fatui capitano #fatui x reader

[iridescentscarecrow]

by you talking about makima being an abusive mother i assume you're referring to eli's excellent post about CSM's association with motherhood. please do check it out if you haven't, it's been rotting away in my brain for a while and the Chainsaw Man as a birthing device is something i'll bring up in this response.

this is a really intriguing line of inquiry, and an interesting way to think of kishibe; so i'll attempt to assimilate my thoughts on how he's positioned in this answer. this will be quite long so do bear with me:

i've talked about how Family as a concept bleeds into part two from part one. in p1, makima forms for denji a Family, and in p2, denji is handed this motherhood over nayuta.

makima as the Mother is kept and collared by the state. and thinking of chainsaw man in terms of its reproductive power can be extended to its literal reproduction of the narrative. myth and memory form themselves through regurgitation, and the CSM cuts away this chain of reproduction when it eats entire concepts. when it makes people forget. there's an already apparent connection to the Womb (makima // nayuta // denji) but the selectivity in narrative-reproduction is why its central to makima and kishibe's conflict. the war against the mother who exerts control over the child.

because kishibe is the Masculine: he teaches makima and in turn makima entrusts denji and power to him,,, he narratively affirms denji's wondering if he's still able to feel, whether he shouldn't feel sadder at himeno's death by telling us, the audience, that the best devil hunters are those who "have a few screws loose." we're painted this image of denji as a feral incomprehensible Crazy thing, but this isn't true even at this phase of the story. he mourns pochita, he empathises with power's grief at losing meowy. [there's an intriguing line of thought where you compare denji with aki along this vein too, if you think about it].

and that's why the movie date with makima is actually the effective closing of this arc -- her telling denji that he does have a heart subverts kishibe's rhetoric, and what the story tells us denji is. this is makima in her role as mama, the mother, the love that she feels and recieves and creates. incidentally, the chaotic agent that kishibe envisions coincides with makima's idealisation of the chainsaw man, apart from the part where she's expressedly affectionate towards it. and who has she been raised by except these (masculine) institutions? who taught her how and what to want?

aside but "that's a lie." // he sees makima and recognises her machinations at one level but he's never really understood her or her need for love. she tells him that she wants to save people (and this may or may not be true) but he can't really parse that, can he? and kishibe also structures and contextualises so much of the story for us, just like what makima does: what i already said about denji's chaotic self, him narrating reze's past, etc. he's an independent source of information.

because yeah: kishibe is ruthless. and people often bring up kishibe's relationship with quanxi but i don't often see them balance her "ignorance is bliss" vs. kishibe's need to have a few screws loose. we know as the audience about how quanxi actively shuts herself off, but kishibe keeps talking about leaning into this devil hunter nature. and what i think is decipherable from this dynamic is that quanxi, or at least what kishibe sees her as, is kishibe's ideal. tbh she's actually a Symbol for various different ideals, her habitation and display of her sexuality alongside her Ignorance is denji's ultimate form! and kishibe trains denji... [aside but this is why cosmo being her gf is so interesting to me. something something woman who thinks ignorance is bliss x devil who embodies the Horrors of Knowing]

kishibe blindfolding himself after her death is him transposing that ignorance onto himself. he doesn't want to see a thing -- and that's where you see that dissonance. it's not that he's beyond caring, it's how blind he is in how he does this caring.

and kishibe strains against this, he wants to cut away his relationships as contrasted with makima (and even denji) wanting to form them. and this is why makima cutting off kishibe's last tie to quanxi is so interesting because you remember: quanxi didn't accept his deal.

you have kishibe pining after quanxi and yet she's not sexually available to him, so he further isolates himself. and the forming and breaking of relationships comes back here so vividly --

aki's and power's deaths form the CSM out of denji. it's crazy and unpredictable but it doesn't challenge makima, does it? // "attacks don't work against her."

and when all is said and done, denji tells him it's love. loove. denji's the one who explains makima to kishibe. they're sitting at the bench and denji's petting the dogs while nyako, the willingly domesticated animal, twirls itself around kishibe... and kishibe handles the cat with such affection. denji tells him it's love so what does he do except hand nayuta to him??

thank you for the ask, anon!

#kishibe as fatherhood... kishibe as the expected masculine... father figures for denji are dead behind a closed door -> #ignorance is bliss and kishibe is his mentor... #crow.asks #csm #umm. also a fic rec but nerve ape by hassoutoby on ao3 does kishibe's character very well. please read it #csm meta #kishibe #chainsaw man #csm kishibe #makima #denji #quanxi #crow.txt

[ecto-stone]

Internally i want Danielle to like be very suprise when she get taught skill by Danny. When she is so used to how Vlad taught her. Like Danny do demonstration, and then Danielle holding her hand out waitting Danny: ??? what are you doing just tries do it. Dani: ???? what do you mean just tries do it???? So Vlad have been teach Danielle and the Clone to use power by connecting their Power Flow and simulated/regulated the Powerflow to help his kid understanf better how it do. To an extension Dan know Vlad do this too since he also have few trainning with his Vlad before thing go so wrong. Vlad do this so they won't hurt themself over exerting the power. But it is also very important that the Connector had to be Really good at manipulating the Ectoplasm energy flow to prevent Overflow energy from harm the connected or Blow himself up.

[flipping-the-coin]

Ratchet, canyou explain how field attacks work? Why is pax so good at them? Is there any defense against attacks like that? If field attacks are so powerful they can make the prime collapse, why werent they used during the war to help take down Megatron and the cons? Is there special training for that kind of weapon?

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡: ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔱

ℭ𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔩 ℑ𝔞𝔠𝔬𝔫 -

ℭ𝔶𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔞𝔫 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔩 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔰 -

𝔊𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔇𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 -

Orion is so fragging good at using his field as a weapon because evidently, he's had millennia to master it. I don't know everything, but based on what I've pieced together, Orion mainly expressed himself through emotion when he was within the Matrix. Without a frame to divert his attention, he could put his entire being into expressing emotion physically. I assume he likely caused Optimus pain by sending electrical currents through sensory systems in his and Optimus's shared frame. But again, I don't know the details. All I can say for sure is that his skill in focusing his emotions transferred directly into the most severe field attacks I have ever witnessed.

Let me make this clear. The EM field of a Cybertronian is not meant to be painful. It's purpose is to express emotion without words through electromagnetic shifts and flares. The average civilian does this without thinking until they are trained to hold their field close or are given a dampener. It is instinctual for our kind since we are so varied and can be forged with special needs and alternate ways of communicating. In fact, field communication is considered to be the first and purest way to express desire and emotion. Supposedly, before there was language, our kind were bound together as one through the whims of our sparks. Much like words, field flares are not meant to cause actual pain. They are merely intended to get a point across.

But of course, as with all things, there are exceptions.

As a Doctor, I was trained to actively dull my field and taught to increase and decrease my ability to sense fields at will. I learned this through focus training where I was instructed to actively force more of my attention into specific sensory organs. The same general premise applies for those trained to use their field. Not everyone can do it, mind you. Training to use one's field is incredibly difficult since it requires a mech to learn how to imbue more of their emotion into their field through an actual exertion of energy and mental strength. Even when trained, most only learn how to stun temporarily or to create a shield of sorts which makes it impossible for whoever is behind the trained field user to be read by others.

The only actual defense against field attacks is to completely shut off the ability to sense fields. Being unable to sense a field means it cannot be registered as pain. However, that is a very... unsettling process for the untrained. It is akin to losing a whole separate set of optics and is very distressing for anyone who hasn't gone through endurance training. Fields are used for so much, and you never really know how much you rely on it until you walk directly into a wall because your proximity sensors were shut off along with your field. I honestly don't know how the humans last without the ability to sense one another.

It is also somewhat dangerous to train as a field user. Once you learn to use your field as a weapon, it is incredibly difficult to go back to using it as a simple means of communication. Trained users, even when they are trying to be docile and loving, have been taught to put so much emotion into their fields that they are incapable of being mild in their communications. Their average field usage is suffocating for normal mecha, and when they get violent, it physically hurts. Sensors read the emotion being flared as danger, which in turn is translated into pain since the processor is unable to locate any actual source of pain in the frame.

It is a flaw of Cybertronian biology. But it is what allows us to sense danger, so there is no actual winning in this regard.

Explanations out of the way, it is because of the sheer amount of training involved that few soldiers were ever trained in the art of wielding fields. It is time consuming in the extreme and during the war, we simply couldn't risk having our soldiers hurting each other with their fields when things got tense. It would have been chaos. Not to mention field users would have projected their feelings at all times like blazing beacons for the Decepticons to notice. It was simply more efficient for the average soldier to live with field dampeners and keep their emotions hidden from view.

Only the elites were trained to use their fields, and even that was more of a side note. The knowledge needed to train field users was all but lost when the Primacy was destroyed and only the Elite Guard still maintain a degree of the skill that field users once had. Even they are nothing like the Limit Breakers the Council employed before and during the start of the war.

EM fields are not intended to be made into weapons. And quite frankly, I think turning fields into weapons is something that should go die along with the sins of war.

𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 - ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔱

#maccadam #transformers prime au #transformers #two sides to a coin au #transformers prime #orion pax #cybertronian culture #cybertronian biology #ratchet responds #tfp ratchet #ratchet

[live-he-says]

WIP Wednesday - River of Stardust

Have a 950-word snippet from my upcoming Chapter 10 of River of Stardust.

This scene is a fix-it moment between Xunfeng and Dongfang Qingcang, where Dongfang Qingcang finally teaches Xunfeng Black Slash.

It's been edited to censor certain spoilers, and also so it could also stand-alone for those who haven't read the fic from the beginning. If you like this snippet, you might like my fic! River of Stardust is a canon post-drama gap-filler and fix-it story. Check out the main tumblr post for the story here (and give @clj-art-blog all the love for her amazing art).

Without further ado, the snippet:

***

“Better. Remember to stay grounded.” Dongfang Qingcang said to Xunfeng, as he walked from behind him. He tapped the back of his younger brother’s knee with the flat of his blade as he passed, nonverbally reminding him to keep his knees loose. 

With the Moon Supreme having finished whatever lengthy political one-on-one discussion he had been having with an officiant, Dongfang Qingcang had offered to finally, unexpectedly, teach Xunfeng Black Slash. (“Better late than never,” Dongfang Qingcang had said at Xunfeng’s shocked reaction. “31,000 years after I stopped asking is fairly close to never.” Xunfeng couldn’t resist quipping back.)

They were both in full war armor regalia, their blades glinting with the starlight surrounding them. Xunfeng had practiced the move several times already after watching his brother demonstrate, getting closer and closer to perfecting its nuances.

“It’s the diversion of an exerted force, back to its target,” Dongfang Qingcang coached, “You are taking the cultivation in your opponent’s strike and redirecting it back to them. It looks like an offensive maneuver but it’s defensive, and only possible when you are attacked first. When perfected, Black Slash is effortless. Understood?”

Xunfeng nodded. 

Without preamble Dongfang Qingcang suddenly lashed out, not with his blade, but with his fist. Centuries of training under a once ruthless Moon Supreme taught him to never be caught off guard however, and Xunfeng tapped into the core of his cultivation, feeling it ground him as his brother had instructed previously, and for a moment it was as if the world moved in slow motion. Rather than stiffen for impact against Dongfang Qingcang’s incoming blow, Xunfeng shifted with it, as if dodging. He could see the aura of Dongfang Qingcang’s cultivation like an outline around his fist, and rather than blocking it, he welcomed it, opening a part of his cultivation up like a channel, siphoning the direction of the energy. 

This all happened in mere seconds. Xunfeng moved with the hit, and then redirected its energy flow to his blade as he brought it up, slashing the air between them.

Dongfang Qingcang grunted on impact as he fell to the ground.

Xunfeng’s eyes widened. He did it. He really did it. Even with his brother having said so, it still felt surprising in its ease, with hardly any exertion of his own power.

Dongfang Qingcang looked up at him from the ground, rubbing his shoulder where the energy of his own punch had been redirected. “So that’s what it feels like.” His expression was wry, but not displeased.

“I think you could’ve hit harder,” Xunfeng said, walking toward him smugly. 

Dongfang Qingcang ignored the remark. “Your form has improved,” he replied instead, the closest to a compliment Xunfeng had ever received from him. When Xunfeng offered him his hand, Dongfang Qingcang looked at it for a beat, and smirked. He grasped it, allowing his younger brother to pull him up. Xunfeng smiled at him a little. “And so has your mood,” Dongfang Qingcang continued. “Did something happen?”

Xunfeng thought about what Danyin said to him, and how such lovely, honeyed words from her lips was enough to sustain a man for another thousand years. Xunfeng’s smile widened just thinking of it.

“I learned Black Slash from you, at last,” Xunfeng said evasively, uncharacteristic grin still evident, “If that’s not cause for celebration, what is?”

Dongfang Qingcang gave him a closed-mouth smile back, far less of the grimace it used to be back when he was learning how to wield his emotions. 

“I understand why this is so powerful now,” Xunfeng continued, “Regardless of the size or power of your foe, it’ll always be a blow capable of flooring them, since it’s a transfer of their own energy.”

“Correct,” Dongfang Qingcang confirmed.

Xunfeng went on, “I also see why you avoided teaching me for so long. Black Slash requires a clear mind due to the invitation of someone else’s energy into your own, as part of the diversion process. If you are not of sound mind, inviting someone else’s energy alongside yours could have devastating consequences– and when I was a child, I was far from level-headed or clear-minded.”

“You’ve always been the more sensitive of the two of us,” Dongfang Qingcang acquiesced, “Even before my emotions were stripped.”

Xunfeng’s smile slipped from his features. He lowered his head in deference. “I am… sorry, brother, for not considering your situation sooner.” He closed his eyes. “The pain you had to endure for hellfire, and for Cangyan Sea, is unimaginable.”  

“You would have done the same, had you been in my place.”

Xunfeng looked up at that.

Dongfang Qingcang met his gaze evenly.

In the silence, an exchange of new understanding passed between them. They were brothers, as distinct as night and day in many ways, but they were both sons of the crown their father left them, and with it came the weight of an entire people which they would not hesitate to die for.

Had it been Xunfeng, and not Dongfang Qingcang who had the the potential for hellfire, his father would have done the same to him, and Dongfang Qingcang held no doubt that his brother would have bore the same necessary tortures, and successfully. Fate flipped a coin, and it simply landed on Dongfang Qingcang. That was the only difference.

“Brother,” Xunfeng said, and somehow it was both an acknowledgement and a thank you.

“Brother.” Dongfang Qingcang returned with a small smile.

Xunfeng swallowed, breathing in deep as if to compose himself.

“Now,” Dongfang Qingcang started anew, “let’s see if you can do Black Slash again. Or was it a fluke?”

Xunfeng smirked, and got into formation.

#love between fairy and devil #cang lan jue #dongfang qingcang #dongfang xunfeng #xunfeng #lbfad #lbfad fic #lbfad minibang

[ghoste-catte]

Any tips on writing giving Lee more powers without y'know. Erasing his disability. Was writing an unrelated fic and realised that by its internal logic, it would make Lee kinda "ooh your disability was actually a power in disguise" which. That's BAD. That's so bad. I reworked it but the issue remained in my head.

Hey! Oh my gosh, I have no idea how long this has been sitting here, because Tumblr does not do a good job of letting me know when I have asks.

I think the biggest thing with writing disability - Lee's or anyone's, really - is to make sure that you don't erase the drawbacks. It's okay to show that there are possibly some positives to having a certain disability ... I'll use the example of being hard-of-hearing: while not being able to hear well is definitely shitty in a lot of circumstances, there's also an amazing sense of community, strength, and solidarity that can come with being HoH/Deaf. That's not to say there's a "bright side" to every disability - certainly that's a matter of the individual's experience as well as the specifics of the disability. But many people are proud of their disabilities and do see both advantages and disadvantages; the neurodiversity moment is another great example.

So when it comes to Lee's disability, I think it wouldn't necessarily be bad to show that there are some upsides or things that he can do better than others as a result of it. For example, he's clearly had to train his strength and endurance much, much harder than anyone else, and as a result he's much stronger and has more stamina than most people (in my mind, at least). It's taught him perseverance and given him a mindset of constant improvement. I think the fact that he is frequently underestimated could be portrayed as a double-edged sword: while it hurts his confidence and the emotional effect is not to be understated, it could also potentially give him an edge in battle.

The main thing to keep in mind, then, is that even if you want to show some perks, that you not undermine the genuine limitations that are placed on him by his disability. Not being able to do ninjutsu and genjutsu are huge limitations in his chosen career and means that he has to work twice as hard as everyone else for half the payoff. We see that very clearly in the Sasuke vs. Gaara fight: Sasuke was able to learn and replicate Lee's moves in a fraction of the time it took Lee to perfect them. On top of that, he's more susceptible to genjutsu (can't remember if this is a headcanon or actual canon) and would definitely have a harder time breaking out of one than the typical shinobi. He's at a disadvantage in ranged fights. He's got a very limited moveset. He's not able to, like, call upon the elements to give him supernatural powers (however extraordinary his strength and speed are). His disability has led to a lot of shame and ridicule, particularly as a child, and that's something that sticks with you your whole life.

I can see plenty of ways that you could enhance his powers within the bounds of what he's canonically able to do, whether that's by being creative with the Gates, or using his speed with his weights off, or looking at the amount of force he's able to exert on an opponent or the environment (I could see him, for example, being able to imitate something of an Earth Style jutsu by kicking the ground with enough strength and precision, or punching air hard enough to cause a sonic boom). I mean, the dude did canonically kick a meteor in half; that's pretty impressive.

I'd be interested to hear what other people think on this topic, too! There's a lot of creative and thoughtful minds in this corner of fandom, and my word is certainly not law. Feel free to chime in in reblogs or replies, y'all.

#answered #anonymous #naruto #naruto meta #rock lee

[maytheoddshq]

Helios Serpentine (he/him). Tribute. District One. Twenty-four. Ryusei Yokohama.

( tw: mentions of death )

Helios’ mother would tell him for years to come, that the day of his birth had been a sunny one. 

Golden rays and a warm breeze, Jade Serpentine lauded it the most beautiful day of the summer, if not of any summer she had ever witnessed. Not a cloud in sight, the sunlight filtering through the hospital windows unobstructedly. It had only made sense, to name her pride and joy after the sun. 

Both father and mother doted on their son, Jade, in a more gentle manner than Carat, but it was to be expected of a family consisting almost entirely of government officials. He was enrolled in Academy classes as soon as he was old enough, being taught the usage of every possible weapon under the sun, but he was constantly reminded by his mother that kind words, charming words sometimes went further than exerting power. He was supported at every turn he took, but not every person in his family had that same privilege. 

His father’s brother, Aeneas Serpentine had a son as well, conceived and born around the same time as Helios. Though, while Hades’ mother doted on her son just as much, his father was a different story entirely. Never satisfied with his only child, he prodded and pushed him, trying to shape him into the person he so desperately needed him to be. An heir, a worthy successor. Despite Hades’ obvious talent with the weapons and the sword in particular, he remained soft, too malleable for any shaping that his father did to stick. When Hades’ mother, Flora, died, the already strained relationship deteriorated even further. 

Helios and Hades got along well, though Helios didn’t ever not feel sorry for the gentle boy, growing up in such a hostile environment. 

They both trained in separate groups in the Academy, dwelled amongst different friend groups. It didn’t change the fact, however, that the Serpentine boys were exceptional fighters, Helios embracing it more so than Hades ever did. 

So, it came as a surprise when Hades volunteered for the 124th Hunger Games. An accident, Helios would find out later. Hades had merely tried to talk a younger boy out of volunteering, and had let out a loud shout that was easily misunderstood. No one could back out of volunteering in whatever manner, and so into the Arena Hades went. Undoubtedly not ready for what was ahead of him. Everything went off without a hitch at first, as Hades took out tributes in the bloodbath and beyond. One the fourth day, however, disaster struck. He was locked into a room inside a giant maze together with Link Cache, instructed to solve a puzzle that would allow them to emerge from the room. In the end, only one of them would. Helios watched that tomb’s door close on his cousin, the entirety of his struggle broadcast for the nation to see. Cut off from gifts, oxygen was being steadily sucked out of the airtight room. It was hours before his cannon sounded. 

The loss impacted Aeneas far more deeply than Helios would have thought. From the funeral onwards, he would only see his uncle on special occasions after the man had shuttered himself off in his manor, largely doing work from home. 

Helios’ parents grieved for Hades as well, but that did not mean their own son was no longer meant to train for the opportunity to be able to volunteer himself. Just, prepared for what was to come. 

All the efforts paid off in the end. At twenty-four, Helios was one of the best the Academy had to offer. Skilled, charming and slightly too cocky at times. His mother had tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips when Helios told her of the Academy’s decision to have him volunteer. 

The very first consequence of his cockiness wouldn’t be revealed until the day of the event itself. After he already found himself on stage, another hand shot up to call out. How should he have known that constant teasing and daring would lead to Callisto Meadowforge volunteering? 

There was an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as he shook Calli’s hand on stage. 

This wasn’t going to end well, no matter the outcome.  Hades had carried a necklace with his mother’s ring on it in the Arena. After his body had been brought back to one, Helios had begged his uncle for the piece of memorabilia. 

Three strengths and three weaknesses ( + ) charming, resourceful, confident ( – ) easily frustrated, perfectionist, calculated

PENNED BY: Leo

#thg rp #thg rpg #hunger games rpg #hunger games rp #lsrp #helios #bio

[spellcasterlight]

hi there! i saw many titles in your wip tag game thing, but one in particular caught my attention i wanna know more abt ur shinoten hunger games au 👀 if youre comfy sharing of course !

have a good day ✨❤

Hi there @alumort!

Warnings: None - under the cut simply for length!

Thanks for the ask! ✨

WIP Titles Game! 📓

Ao3 ✨ | WIP Game Always Open ✒️| Ko-Fi ☕

So I was in a Hungers Games mood and started jotting down some notes!

The first chapter would of course be heavy in backstory and world building. Lee and Sakura dying in the games. Tenten being Gai’s adopted daughter. Her taking over the blacksmith shop after he is injured in an attack. Shino being the mayors son. 

I would have them both admire the other for different reasons, coming to light more during the pre-game interviews and training. Tenten would admire Shino’s intelligence, his wants to improve the lives of everyone who lives in his district, how he treats everyone the same no matter where they come from and his self-taught capabilities with a bow. 

Shino would admire her determination and drive as well as her loyalty to her family and her creative abilities as a blacksmith and her ways of handling swords as well as throwing knives because of her work.

Kakashi would be Tenten’s mentor and only because he promised Gai to bring her home. Kurenai would be a paid for mentor by Shibi. Both mentors make it clear to their charges they will sacrifice the other tribute should the need arise (for different but understandable reasons) but Shino and Tenten dig their heels in and stick to their plan to team up and win together.

I also wanted to do some changes to the games themselves. I would keep a permanent rule of ‘if two tributes survive from one district they both win’ but also add a mental puzzle aspect so I could bring in more of Shino’s intelligence and teamworking opportunities. I would also have an ‘end point’ to the game. A place were the potentials winners would need to have their last show down to win so to speak!

Below are some extremely rough exerts mostly in dialogue form!:

Tenten being asked about Lee and Shino in her pre-games interview:

So I have heard that your brother was also a participant in the games is that true?

Most contestants try to go it alone don’t even think about trying to team up with their nation partner and even if they do one of them dies before they can find each other.

The girl last year was Sakura Haruno, remembering what Kakashi had said she tried to engage the audience. Maybe some of you remember her? Cherry blossom pink hair, beautiful green eyes, just a little bit of a temper?

My brother had been in love with her since he first laid eyes on her.

When she was called for the reaping his is the cry you can hear in the playback.

Konan hadn’t even finished saying she was going to pick the boys name before he volunteered. And part of me knew he would.  There was just no way he was going to let her go into the games with someone who might not put her first. Who would go in with the intention of never teaming up with her. That whoever it was would have no intention of bringing her home.

Their plan right from the beginning was to find each other and win together.

Sakura worked in the small medical clinic we have but after that attack by the boy from the sound there was nothing she could do

Your other nation tribute, Shino Aburame, tell us about him.

Shino is the most intelligent person I’ve ever met and the politest him and his dad both are. Shino has all these ideas about how to improve the district for everyone and I- He’s-He’s good people. I admire him.

Shino being asked about Tenten in his pre-games interview:

And what are your thoughts on your other nation tribute, Tenten?

Tenten is everything I am not. She is fierce and powerful and skilled in combat and I find myself enraptured by her beauty both inside and out.

Do you plan on trying to win together?

I would not win without her. But she would have a chance without me.

Tenten and Shino planning on working together the night before the games:

Why did you lie? In your interview.

I did not lie. I do not lie.

Yes you did. You said you couldn’t win without me but I could win without you. That’s wrong and you know it. I’d never get out of there alive without you. You would know how to answer the riddles for the chests, you would know what we could and couldn’t eat, you would have a plan for each other tribute.

I have what? I have a little muscle on me and I can run a bit.

Even if I managed to find one of the chests, crack the code, and there’s a sword or a knife in there. I’m doing nothing more than taking down a few of the other tributes before I-

You sell yourself short. I stand by what I said in the interview.

And I stand by what I’m saying right now.

Could we really do it?

I have faith in us. I have faith in you.

I have faith in you too.

So it’s settled. We’re in this together.

Together.

Kakashi and Tenten’s final talk before she enters the games:

Any last words of advice?

Stick to the plan. Get a weapon find water and find Shino.

We said we would both aim for the centre. They always place the tributes around the outside of the arena looking in so

That is what everyone else's plan is going to be.

It’s the only way we’re going to find each other.

I have to tell you Tenten. I made your dad a promise I would look after you if that means having to prioritise you over Shino I-

-I’m going to do that. I will not see Gai cry again.

Sensei.

We won’t lose you too.

If push comes to shove you need to look after Shino not me. He can do so much more for our village than I can. He’s smart and well connected and level headed he’ll make better decisions than I ever could. He’s the better choice for all of us.

Shino figuring out a puzzle in the games:

Tenten. A chest.

What on earth does that even mean?

Please Tenten be quiet a moment.

His fingers flailed staying completely silent

It worked!

I fear it will not be that simple.

The chest contained a beautifully made bow and a quiver that was unhelpfully empty as if to only half-heartedly congratulate Shino on his working out of the clue.

It is as I thought. The puzzle was too simple for anything truly helpful.

She wordless took them out of the chest only taking a second to admire the craftsmanship of the longbow before handing them to him.

At least you can swing it at someone

After the games, Tenten and Shino head home:

The train would stop in Konoha the next day

Tenten-

I like this. Us I think we make a great team and I-

I would like to look into this more. If you don’t want to please say now-

That is also what I wish.

But slow right?

Slow.

May I still kiss you sometimes?

What do you think?

#shinoten #tenten #shino aburame #wip #wip game #tag game #writers tag game #thanks for the ask! #asks are open! #❤️❤️❤️

[walkingshcdow]

How Rahadin Got His Own Tent: A Drabble

Summary: When Alek Gwilym loses a sparring match to a young Rahadin, Strahd is forced to learn the truth about how elves age and just how perceptive his young, adoptive brother is. 

I watched as Alek Gwilym sparred with my brother and it baffled me how like two dancers the two of them were in practice. I never thought particularly of the grace of combat, but something about the way they feinted and parried under the midafternoon sun was mesmerizing. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on Alek’s skin and I must admit that until now, I had never seen him perspire during a mere practice. Rahadin, for his part, seemed unbothered by the summer sun or by the labor of battle, even a staged one, such as this. I admired him as a warrior, of course. He was my brother and all von Zaroviches were blessed with quick reflexes and raw power, but there was something feline about Rahadin that I always surmised must have been to do with his elven heritage, for though I called him my brother, I did so largely at my father’s insistence at first and late, habit. I would think that the elven whelp he found in the woods some fifteen years before my birth was his favorite child, were it not I upon whom the crown now rested. I was, of course, the better tactician, but Rahadin had been my father’s weapon, as he was now mine. I admired him no more than one did a fine blade or an easily-steered horse. Alek, however, was a beautiful sight, tawny hair only faintly streaked with silver, slick against his scalp with sweat, and powerfully built in a way Rahadin’s slender build could never rival. The three of us traveled on many campaigns together. Admittedly, I did not understand why my father had not risked his eldest in the waging of wars, instead, he first trained Rahadin to be my bodyguard, but it seemed his mistake was my gain. He came second only to Alek in skill and first in loyalty. Watching them spar now, however, was as watching a mastiff savage a greyhound, who slipped away from biting jaws. It pleased me to know that like dogs, they fawned upon me and heeded my command. 

It happened in a flash, though, that the greyhound did bare his teeth as, without warning, the flash of Rahadin’s steel stopped just short of Alek’s jaw. 

“Peace!” I cried. 

Though Alek may have been one of my most loyal dogs, he did not deserve to die like one. I rose from my seat, hands upheld and approaching the pair of them swiftly. Even at knifepoint, Alek smiled, chest heaving from exertion. Rahadin did not return the smile, but for the fleetest moment, he cocked his head and searched Alek’s face. I realized then that Alek’s smile, and then his laugh, were reserved for Rahadin’s pointed ears only. Approval. Rahadin uncoiled and sheathed the knife. I do not believe either of us had seen him pull. He then turned his brown eyes to me, serious again, and he bowed deeply. 

“Forgive me, brother,” Rahadin said. All his years at my father’s court had taught him manners but never stamped out the melodic accent of his voice. It bothered me to hear it now, smooth and without shortness of breath, as did his smooth, nut-brown skin and unlined face. Should not a man at least fifteen years my senior be wearier from battle with my best soldier? “You must know that I would never harm General Gwylim, unless it was upon your order.”

“My order?” I echoed. “And why would I order harm to be done to him?”

Rahadin spread his palms wide. Shrugging, he met my gaze. 

“I pray to all the gods in the Seladrine you never ask that of me,” he said. I frowned. The Seladrine! Even all these years had not made my brother worship the gods of men. “He has been my favorite mentor and I think I still have much to learn from him.”

Mentor! What a thin, impossible lie! If Rahadin was fifteen years my senior, then he must have been twenty years older than Alek. I made a violent sign and commanded Rahadin to leave us. Only then did Alek turn his blue-gray eyes on me. He no longer panted and he wiped his brow with a handkerchief. 

“Are you hurt?” I asked Alek only when certain we were alone. “He could have killed you.”

“He could have and I must admit that I am impressed.”

“Impressed!” I scoffed. “Did you see him pull the knife?”

“I should have expected it,” Alek admitted. “But I did not see. Did you?”

I had not, of course, but it would not do to tell Alek that. Perhaps he would think my eyesight was failing or that I, like he himself, was getting slow in my middle years. I had never thought of Alek as slow before. The man moved swiftly, deftly, and brutally. Besides his deep devotion to me, there were reasons he was my chief counselor and most trusted general. We walked from the tents, towards a river that flowed nearby, where our troops had gathered water in the last weeks. Alek stripped away his armor and then his shirt with the immodesty of a hardened soldier. I watched him kneel to wash and scrub his face. Droplets of water trickled down his neck and chest and it confused me that a man who had so nearly died would make himself vulnerable to his displeased lord. I towered over his crouched frame, awaiting an explanation. Alek turned his eyes skyward and let out a long-held breath.

"One day, the boy will be better than me, Strahd,” he said at long last, carding his fingers through his mane of hair. "I think the day has almost come."

I looked at Alek Gwilym, puzzled. The boy? Sergei? What did he have to do with today’s sparring round, when it was Rahadin who had very nearly murdered my general? Sergei? He only just began to travel with us and was in awe of all that he saw. No doubt Sergei, with his soft heart, was comforting Rahadin or with his rounded eyes congratulating him on a match well won. Sergei? The boy was talented with a sword, but he was training for the priesthood and no priest could best my general and steward, even as he and I advanced together into middle-age. As if he could read my thoughts, Alek smiled and shook his head.

"Rahadin," he said, the Elvish name flowing off his name easily. I frowned.

"Rahadin must be twenty years your senior," I said. "Clearly you are mistaken. He is more of an old man than a boy."

"Strahd," he said my name with that patronizing patience only he could use on me and live to see sun-up. "Surely you know at least a little of the elves and their culture."

I was versed in many cultures, but the elves were a mystery to me. The story went that my father, King Barov, brought a half-wild, half-savage elf child home from a campaign against the Dusk Elf people. Only the gods could say why he had taken pity on Rahadin; my adopted brother would not say and Father was dead. It would be such a trifling question to ask Lady Ilona to pose to my father’s spirit. Rahadin was a pitiless man, stern and slow to laughter and even slower to trust. For many years, he had served with Alek Gwilym, but to think that he would ever be Alek's equal? Impossible.

"The Elves base their leadership on magic," I said flatly. "My brother was never a leader. I know he came into magic only when he became a von Zarovich."

"Your brother is still a child. May the gods help us all if he further develops that magical ability. He's already a frightening force on the battlefield."

That I knew. I was proud he wore the Von Zarovich name and brought it glory. But a child? I had been a child with him - how was it that Rahadin was a child still. Elves, I knew, were long-lived. Father once said that Rahadin had killed his people's mage-king and that the elven king Rahadin slew had been over six hundred years old, but I always supposed it was an exaggeration. Then again, I also knew that Rahadin had long seemed a man of twenty and that once that had seemed so old to me. Now, I understood. At sixty, Rahadin was one-tenth the age of a king and though he was my older brother, I must have been his senior by at least as much. My stomach churned. How long would he look so young, be so young? Time marched relentlessly across the lines of my face, though I was still quite handsome. Time had frozen Rahadin in the prime of youth and would preserve him thus for centuries to come. Why, for an Elf, he truly was still a child. My stomach soured, thinking suddenly on the many times I had called him weak or pushed him to limits that a man of thirty would surely have not matched. How many men had my Elf brother killed, all by the same comparable age when most humans still had their first teeth? Had my father known, when taking in the Elf child, that Rahadin would outlive his natural spawn?. I very suddenly and very clearly imagined Rahadin would one day hold Alek's rank, but could not imagine under what king he might serve. I had no progeny by choice - the very thought made my skin crawl. Would he serve Sturm one day? Or would he, the thought seized me by the throat, rule one day in my stead?

"When he reaches middle age, we will be long dead, Strahd. And when he reaches my skill level, my own life will live on only in his memory."

"Do not speak so cavalierly of your death, Lord Gwilym," I said, for talk of his own death made me fear my own mortality greatly. "Besides, it is much too bold to assume any soldier, even one that by luck nearly bested you, will live to see middle age."

"As soldiers go, you and I are old men," he agreed as if relishing my displeasure. "Rahadin has a knack for survival."

I made no comment. Alek groaned and pushed himself to his feet. He met my eyes and I fought to keep them stern and disapproving. Half of Alek’s mouth twisted into a smile as if he had a secret. I knew him well enough by now to know that if there was a secret to be kept, I was the one person from who he could not hide it. When we were young, he’d been quite the eager gossip, but now he trusted his secrets only to his king. I had a right to them, did I not? I lacked patience for his games. 

“He has a few more years to learn my art for espionage,” he said. “And perhaps that is the one place he will never surpass me. He has quiet feet and can blend into the shadows as the best assassin, but surely you have not overlooked his biggest handicap besides his age.”

“Alek…”

“I hear strange things about the elf King Barov took under his wing. Never from the elf in question, of course. Your brother is nothing if not tight-lipped.”

“Alek…”

“Are the rumors true? That he killed the Dusk Elf king when he was a child?”

I shrugged with one flourished arm. “If you mean to say that he has a record for killing kings, I will remind you he was on the campaign trail with us when Father died. And if you mean to imply that he will one day kill me…”

“I mean to imply that he is a Dusk Elf fugitive in a human king’s court,” Alek said. “And that as long as you keep him at your side, your relations with the Elves will be tense. Even your relations with other humans are made more difficult by his lineage. The Dilysnyas, the Wachters, all the old families wonder why an Elf ranks higher than they in your court.”

“Rahadin has proven his loyalty to me,” I said. I paused. “When I was a babe, I had a nursemaid seek to poison me. Did you know that it was Rahadin who caught her in the act and who escorted her from my parents’ keep?”

“It does not surprise me. There is no one he loves more than you, Strahd.”

Love. I sneered. Alek grimaced and bent to pick up his shed clothing. I had a surplus of brothers’ love. I wanted a soldier’s loyalty. I had it in Alek and I had meant to say that I had such a thing in Rahadin, but Alek seemed to imply that the loyalty he felt for me and that which Rahadin felt for me was of a different breed. I watched him dress, waiting for elaboration. 

“You will have to teach the Dusk Elves to respect him as they would respect any other duke,” he said. “Or else they will seek retribution. Elves have long memories. Just ask Rahadin. He has recounted tales of his brother, Strahd, the prince, long before he was a war veteran. The tales I’ve heard-”

“-I’m sure are just tales,” I said quickly, my neck heating at the thought of what Rahadin might tell Alek when I could not hear. “”As you said, he is a child. Children have fantastical imaginations, do they not?” 

Alek shrugged into his vest. When I caught his looks, they were of unbridled delight and I began to wonder what stories - true or not - Rahadin spun for him of my youth. I had the childish urge to push Alek into the water. It did not become a king. Alek clapped me on the back as he did when we were in a more intimate setting. A grim imitation of a smile came to my lips and I tried to hide it from his eyes. 

“It was not through luck that he almost killed me today, Strahd,” he said. “Your brother is skilled and today was a warning that if I did not make a request of you, he knew where to stick his blade.”

“A request?” I blinked. What could Rahadin want from me that I had not already given him? “What a burden it is to have poor relations.”

“Yes and your poor relation would like his own tent,” Alek said. “The poor thing says that you and I keep him up far later than we realize when you seek my counsel.”

“I could simply ask you not to come to the royal tent,” I said flippantly. “Sergei makes no complaints.”

Alek squeezed my shoulder. “Sergei sleeps like a rock but when Elves sleep, they need but four hours and retain an acute awareness of their surroundings.”

“He is a child. How aware could he possibly be?”

Alek grimaced and looked into my eyes in a way I did not like to be looked at, least of all by my general and steward. I felt a hot flash of anger. 

“He has been eavesdropping!”

“He wishes he had a choice in the matter.”

“He will choose to ignore my private counsel with you or choose to die by my hand!”

“Yes, Strahd,” Alek said with flat intonation, “the child who nearly killed your best general surely fears your wrath. Tell me how you plan a quick execution of the boy and I’ll tell you he is far too slippery to be caught by even the finest Ba’al Verzi assassin.” 

I sucked in my cheeks.

“His own tent?” I echoed. “Perhaps not. Perhaps I will decide that he should share one with Sergei.”

“A just compromise, my lord. Perhaps he should learn diplomacy at your side next.”

“Unhand me, Lord Gwilym, before I sic my child soldier brother upon you,” I said. “And while you are at it, wipe that smirk from your lips. Such a look is unbecoming of my right hand.”

Alek flashed me one more smile that made me burn with the same feeling as before and bent to pick up his armor. He needed no servants to aid him, but I thought for the strangest moment of aiding him for expediency. When he wore it all again, he looked at me somberly and nodded. 

“I’ll tell you something, Strahd,” he said. “The boy is one hell of a negotiator to have made you change your mind.”

I huffed. 

“The boy knows my one weakness.”

“Only one?” Alek asked, squinting. “Maybe he is not as perceptive as I had thought. Pray tell, what weakness has he spotted in my lord?” 

“I cannot ignore you when you speak of reason to me. Notice that he did not ask me himself, but rather sent you instead.”

“Indeed, my lord.” Alek tilted his head. “Shall we tell him the happy news together or shall I allow the camp the illusion that this was your idea?”

“I certainly won’t have them think it is Rahadin’s,” I said. I began to walk towards the camp and then I stopped. “Damn you, Alek Gwylim.”

“Hmm?”

“Was this truly Rahadin’s request?”

He grinned. Damn him, indeed. 

“Perhaps we can discuss your brother’s other ideas over a bottle of wine tonight, my liege,” he said. He placed a hand between my shoulder blades and I cursed the way I relaxed against it. “Without either of them present. I’ll have the servants prepare a tent for them while you tell Rahadin and Sergei your decision.”

I watched him walk away and wondered with a hot flush of anger, not for the first time, why Alek Gwilym could sway me so and when Rahadin had learned with such certainty that I might be swayed. Cursing the sky, I followed back to camp and knew that when I did finally find my oldest-youngest brother, he and I would have words and I knew a few words of power that would at least ensure his silence for the rest of the day. 

There were some things even I would always outpace him at and my magic was stronger than any blade and any Elf wielding one. When I found him, he sat alone under a tree, flipping a dagger aimlessly, but without missing a catch. I watched him for a moment. 

“Lord Gwilym says you want your own tent,” I said.

He did to slice his hand on the blade, but instead let it fall to the ground, point sticking in the damp earth. He turned his dark eyes up to look at me. 

“You seem angry about it,” he said. “Are you angry that I would make such a request or that I would risk Lord Gwilym's life for your attention, Strahd?” 

“It would not do for you to have your own tent,” I said, ignoring his question. “By Elven standards, you are a child of perhaps fifteen.”

“And yet I am a general and a duke,” he said. “Have I not proven myself to you on the battlefield?”

“Only a child would take such a petulant tone with his king. I’ll remind you that, Rahadin - I am the king and you will speak to me with respect.”

He cast his eyes to the earth. His lips moved in apology. 

“I admit, you are my second most accomplished general,” I said, still towering over him as he sat. “Lord Gwylim thinks that should be reason enough to grant you all that you desire. I disagree, of course. It sets a precedent and smacks of favoritism when I have two brothers in the camp.”

He nodded solemnly. 

“It was worth trying,” he said. “I suppose I can carry on, listening to you and Alek Gwilym dance around each other until one of you is dead.”

“A threat, Rahadin?”

“No,” he said, sighing. “A prediction and a sad one at that. I like Alek Gwilym and I love you, Strahd. I would want you to be happy.”

I narrowed my eyes at my brother and saw that whatever he meant, he meant to be opaque as he spoke. I should have demanded an answer, but somehow I felt that in doing so, I would learn things he had observed that I perhaps did not wish to be perceived. 

“I plan to set you and Sergei up together in a tent,” I said. “It makes good sense for brothers to share and who better for my oldest-youngest brother to share with my true youngest brother. Surely you have more in common with Sergei than with me at your age.”

Something about the words tasted bitter in my mouth, like bad wine. My lips puckered. Rahadin, for his part, looked hurt but only for a fleeting second.

“Perhaps I do,” he said blankly. “We are closer in age, all things considered, even if he is a soft boy, freshly freed from his mother’s apron strings and I am a general.”

I heard it now: the insolence of youth. 

“Persist in ingratitude and I will strip you of that title, Rahadin,” I said. It was not an empty threat. Already I imagined conferring his war-earned title on a third- or fourth-best soldier. “I have come to offer you a compromise and you would do well to accept it humbly.”

He bowed his head.

“It will be my honor to share a tent with Prince Sergei,” he said in the same, empty tone. “Thank you for considering my request, brother.”

“It is more than you deserve,” I said, beckoning him to rise. “Alek is making the preparations now.”

He pulled his dagger from the dirt and stood. 

“I think it benefits us both,” he said. “The things I have heard and seen in your tent are things meant not for a child’s ears and eyes.”

“And what is it you have seen and heard?” I asked. “Have I not always been forthcoming with you about my battle plans at dawn?”

He bowed at the waist, face to the ground. 

“Forgive me,” he said. “I did not mean to imply a lack in you as a general or king. I only meant that...”

“Yes?”

“You and Lord Gwilym do not always talk about battle and politics, Strahd. There are some conversations you should enjoy privately.”

The insolence! But his voice was earnest and soft, almost apologetic that he may have heard anything said between Alek and me that was less than becoming a king and his steward. I looked at him queryingly. My silence forced him to look up.

“I only wish to grant you privacy,” he said. He sucked in his cheeks. “Do you remember five years ago, when you took me to the festhall and Lord Gwilym ushered me onto the streets?”

I blinked. I remembered that day as well as I, a man who had awoken with a severe hangover, could have: telling my brother it was high time he became a man, arguing with Alek, taking my leave and pleasure with an eager maid while Alek wrestled Rahadin onto the cobbled stones. I cursed. Alek had said to me then that Rahadin was a child, hadn’t he? That was what the fight had been about. I had been cross with Alek for a week after. If Rahadin was now only a teenager, how old had he been then? Elves aged so oddly and I thought it might do to pay more attention to the mechanics. He looked like a man of twenty and had for as long as I could remember, but Rahadin was a child. What else had he heard or seen, to call forth that memory so quickly? 

“You will have no such issues in a tent with Sergei,” I said. “He is training for the priesthood. I never claimed to be a virtuous man.”

He shrugged. “I do not doubt your virtue, Strahd. I am beginning to doubt you notice how Lord Gwilym looks at you a bottle of wine into the evening.”

“Rahadin...”

“A tent with Sergei is agreeable enough. Thank you, my lord and brother, for your generosity,” he said quickly, bowing again and then righting himself. “I will not deprive you the honor of telling Sergei yourself, but I will see if I can help Lord Gwilym and the servants set my new quarters up. Thank you, again, Strahd.”

For all that I seethed, I loved him for one thing: he did not try to hug me as Sergei would no doubt in a few minutes. He understood deference to a king, even one who was his brother. Only when he was gone from my earshot, back to me, did I press myself to the tree and slide down its trunk, shutting my eyes and searching my mind for the soft, unreadable way Alek Gwilym looked at me when we were alone. What, I wondered, could that intimacy have to do with a premature visit to a festhall? I sucked in a breath. I didn’t want to know, but somehow I knew that as far as Rahadin believed, he spoke the truth and even a king could balk at such a heavy thing. I waited a few minutes more in the shade before seeking out Sergei for what would undoubtedly be an easier conversation. 

#x. drabble #curse of strahd #cos #child soldiers tw #ch: strahd von zarovich #ch: rahadin #ch: alek gwilym #r: strahd & rahadin #r: strahd x alek #r: rahadin & alek

[qlala]

Hi here's my money for that Barry and Len "guilt versus shame" essay. Thanks! 💰💰💰💰💰 (I drew the dollar signs on the bags myself. I'm crafty)

Anon when I said essay, I meant essay. But alright. Here you go. for you and your hand-drawn dollar signs. Come, take this journey with me. (A journey of character analysis for fun—please, no one take this as reliable psychology.)

As I said, I consider the main conflict between Barry and Leonard not one of good versus evil, but of guilt versus shame. Specifically, the difference between them is that Barry is a character motivated by guilt, while Len is motivated by shame.

(And to get this out of the way - I’m not talking about sexuality, but how Barry and Len relate to the world and other people. I don’t think Len is the least bit ashamed of his sexuality; Wentworth Miller has always said that Len is someone who knows exactly who he is, and I think that’s true).

A more accurate way of talking might be to say that guilt-driven characters are motivated by love, while shame-driven characters are motivated by respect.

I’m going to start with Barry, because guilt-motivated characters tend to be much more straight-forward than shame-driven characters. Barry grew up (with some bumps along the way) in supportive, loving homes. His parents, and later Joe, always treated him with love, which allows Barry to love himself and other people.

Treating children with love is the most basic respect their guardians can afford them, and they’ll always have that basic core of respect to fall back on in the face of outside adversity. (Barry is remarkably hard to ruffle with insults—antagonists always have to target the people he loves, because he just… does not rise to the bait when it’s just his own pride on the line.)

This kind of early exposure to love and respect are fundamental to being able to feel guilt about harming others later in life. Barry was raised to respect and love other people (in the general, “love your fellow man” sense), so he would feel guilty if he hurt someone innocent. The core sense of self-respect and self-love that Barry developed in childhood means Barry’s sense of self can always take the hit when he feels guilty about hurting other people.

Guilt makes us feel, temporarily, unloveable. But because Barry was raised to feel fundamentally deserving of love, he can afford to feel briefly unloveable when he hurts other people—it just means he needs to make amends, and then he’ll be worthy of that love again.

That’s why Barry’s a guilt-driven (or love-driven) character: when he interacts with the world, the thing he’s most afraid of losing is love. He’s never been put in a position where he feels like what he’s missing is respect.

And that’s where he and Len differ. Len’s not guilt- or love-driven; he’s shame-driven.

Len appears to feel zero guilt for hurting innocent people, at least when we first meet him in season 1. And the reason for that is Lewis. As I mentioned, love is a prerequisite for guilt. And unlike Barry, Len wasn’t brought up in a loving home. I highly doubt that Lewis’s love for Len was ever freely given, even before he became physically abusive. And if it was, that sense of self was absolutely ripped away from Len when that abuse started.

As I mentioned, treating children with love is the most basic respect their guardians can give them. By withholding that love, Lewis taught Len that he was inherently worthy of neither love nor respect. Raised in that environment, where violence was the way Len saw power exerted over others, the natural response was for Len to seek out respect, not love. He had nothing to gain from loving others—and therefore, from feeling guilt—because he’d already been taught he could survive without love. What he couldn’t survive without was respect, because disrespect meant becoming the object of violence—first from his father, and later, from the criminal justice system.

(Prison is a conversation for another day, but suffice to say, the dehumanizing treatment incarcerated people face parallels that childhood lack of love, robs them of the self-respect and self-love they need to have healthy relationships with other people, and increases the likelihood that they’ll commit violent crimes, not reduces it).

So Len did whatever it took to survive, and survival meant accumulating respect. There’s an obvious cure to this obsession with respect, of course: 1) love, and 2) safety.

Now, as eager as I am to jump into how Barry helped Len break the cycle of violence, Barry’s not the source of love I want to talk about here. Barry comes in later; when I talk about the love that saved Leonard, I’m talking about Lisa.

Because, listen—I’m as exhausted as you are by the trope of “female loved one is male character’s humanity,” especially where, like in some of the Flash comics, it means killing off Lisa to make Leonard a more ruthless (and, I guess the the theory goes, interesting?) villain. But Lisa isn’t just some crack in Len’s armor; she fundamentally changed Len’s life when she was born.

Len was already somewhere between thirteen and sixteen by the time Lisa was born; for the sake of convenience, let’s put him around 15. (For some more detailed meta about the Sniblings' ages, check out this excellent post by @coldtomyflash). If Len was five when Lewis went to prison, and ten when Lewis came out a much more violent man (see: everything I said about prison earlier), that means Len experienced several years of incredibly traumatic treatment before Lisa was born.

He and Mick were in juvie together at least once when Len was still young enough to be “the smallest kid in there,” and Len was nearly killed. Mick saved him, yes, but the experience had to further numb Len to guilt and reinforce that violence and respect were the only real paths to survival.

And then, Lisa. Len clearly, canonically loves Lisa from the moment she’s born. We know nothing about either of their mothers (and it is pretty likely, given the 15-year age gap between them, that they have different mothers), but they’re clearly both out of the picture—Lisa says Len raised her. Len raised her! Fifteen years old, three years away from being free and clear of Lewis’s house forever, and Len stays to raise her.

Lisa is absolutely the one person keeping Len from sliding fully head-first into the path carved for him by Lewis and reinforced by the prison system. He is still primarily shame- and respect-driven—we see him kill people without any guilt, hell, he tries to derail a train with children on board in season one just to see what Barry will do.

But Lisa taught Len that he’s deserving of love and capable of loving others, and because of that, Len cannot, will not respect Lewis for his violence he rains on them both.It leaves open a door in his mind: Lisa doesn’t deserve to be treated that way, which could mean, if he could ever afford to consider it, that he didn’t deserve to be treated that way, either.

It’s why Barry is so unbelievably smug at the end of “Family of Rogues.” He’s figured it out; he wouldn’t put it in terms like guilt and shame, but he’s cracked it all the same. He always knew Len was like him, was someone who had been forced into violence by his circumstances, and now he has proof. Barry is remarkably unconcerned that Len shot Lewis; he’s briefly surprised, sure, but by the end of the episode he’s visiting Len in Iron Heights and goading him about the good in him.

And that’s where Barry comes in. He’s the crucial second ingredient to that cure for shame—he’s the safety.

He blazes into Len’s life and praises him for things no one else ever praised him for: for his morals, for his mercy, for the way he loves Lisa. He gives him an acceptable out to stop killing (he appeals to his vanity, says he’s good enough at what he does that he doesn’t need to hurt innocents, and they both know it’s an excuse), and he makes it clear that he respects not Len’s capacity for violence, but his desire to escape the need for it.

He also offers Len protection to start making that transition. Len knows, even if neither of them say it, that Barry would drop everything to help him if he called. When Len’s reluctant do-gooding puts him in harm’s way, like with King Shark in ARGUS, Barry does drop everything. He gives up a tool that could save Iris’s life to save Len’s instead. This is not me hating on westallen at all—Barry’s sense of obligation to Len is just that strong. He knows he’s put Len on slippery ground by helping extract him from the safety net he’d built himself out of violence.

And that’s Barry’s guilt drive in action—because yeah, he loves Len. He cares about him, and he respects him, and that’s love to Barry. He just wants to give Len the chance to love people that way, too. And in the end, Len, despite all his misgivings, ends up letting him.

#and then he. and then he d. he di- #i'm going to go stare into the ocean #leonard snart #barry allen #coldflash #to an extent. and that extent is that i think they should kiss on the mouth #lisa snart #the sniblings #abuse mention tw // #meta #i might get into how barry's childhood tracks a little closer to len's than i gave him credit for in this post but like #another post for another day

[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

Vampire Master-Guide

First of all I want to start off by saying I've gathered inspiration from MANY vampire medias. Fictions, games. The biggest influences are Vampire the masquerade (primarily bloodlines) and Vampire Knight (manga). As well as honorable mentions to Vampyr (game), Queen of the Damned (movie) and Van Helsing (movie, anime). So if anything sounds familiar, chances are it is. I highly encourage you to explore them as they are a few of my favorites.

Second of all this is going to be massive, so I'll be putting it under a cut. But it will be a comprehensive guide to my personal vampire lore that I've crafted and worked with through the years. If you like it, feel free to use it! I'd absolutely love to be tagged (so I can shower the creations with praise) but it's not required. I'm just out here making one more version of vampires that hopefully inspires you. There will be a couple different categories that I will touch base on.

History (this part is super short)

Physicality - Medical Information

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Mental Effects

Society

Anything from my vampire lore will be tagged #vlor

Now follow me under the cut, lovelies. But please be Warned: We'll be discussing blood, violence, physical and mental illness. As well as regular vampire related things. If any of this could trigger you, please kindly skip this post because you're far more important to me!

'History'

The original vampire to walk the earth, cursed by the heavens was Caine. After committing the first murder, a blood-soaked punishment was to forever be banished to walk the darkness with a constant reminder of his crimes. Thirst. Craving for the same blood he shed against his own kin. The sin was carried through the years and he came upon another outcast kindred by the name of Lilith, cursed by God in a different way and hexed with powerful disciplines.

They bonded as kine and Lilith taught her chaos to Caine in hopes they'd rule together. In the end his nature stayed true and his now empowered wrath befalls Lilith, committing murder yet again and taking her life.

To feed upon and be fed, was a now animalistic instinct that spoke louder than supposed human nature ever could. And thus the curse spread. To anyone that drinks from the tainted or is bitten by a rabid, is surely to bear it at the final heartbeat. The path to redemption is sealed but survival is nearly infinite. So long as the beast is obeyed and satisfied, there is no constraint on lifespan. They will be damned to an eternity enslaved to thirst.

(Primarily from VTMB but I really like the idea of it being some sort of ancient curse from the gods so I thought I'd include this tiny historical bit. Onto the good stuff.)

Physicality - Medical Information

Vampires are anemic, let's just establish that all vampires are what modern day medicine would consider anemia. But they also have super aggressive red blood cells that function x100 that of human white blood cells. All in one combo of super cells. No illness spreads. No disease can contract, nothing can live in their system. They don't fall ill with colds or flu. STD's aren't feasible. Their systems are far too strong and combative to infections, bacteria.

Their integumentary systems regenerate about x200 - x300 times faster. Within seconds (if there is or has been fresh blood in the system recently) their skin regenerates and goes even beyond that. Mere hours and limbs grow back, bones realign.

Vampires don't have functioning organs. (If they are turned from humans they are there but they don't work and will eventually wither.) Hearts don't beat, lungs have no need for air.

Vampires can't drown. They don't breathe and even if water fills their lungs, they would be weighted down but not die. They also don't float like humans do naturally.

Vampires can go out in the sun but they have hard times with sun poisoning. Think of a sunburn but more like a rash. They can't process the vitamin D very well and almost all of them have trouble with getting severely burnt very rapidly or having a rash from the sun. Prolonged exposure can make them feverish, nauseated and give them body cramps and fatigue. Even longer can make them violently ill and can essentially melt their skin. It can be healed but takes longer.

Staking their hearts immobilizes them but does NOT kill them. They can be detained this way and it is excruciatingly painful. But it doesn't kill you.

Vampires can't eat food. Only few can consume liquids aside from blood. They have no ability to digest it and no longer make acid. They'll usually heave it up along with whatever blood content is left in their gut.

They have perfect eyesight, hearing, hyper senses of taste and smell. Touch is extremely sensitive as well. Their skin isn't fragile, in fact it's a bit thicker than average skin from how fast it regenerates and is constantly maintaining itself.

They are very resistant but not impossible to scar. Scars from human life are erased with first turning.

Vampire blood tastes like flat soda or icky, room temperature tap water. Unpleasant to other vampires but in a desperate pinch, it will sustain but nowhere near as good as foreign blood does. Even animal blood takes better care of a vampires system than another body of recycled blood. (Think of it as they've already taken the good stuff out of it for their own bodies so all that's left is the taste and a few stray nutrients.)

Vampires fangs grow back indefinite. At about x10 the rate of humans losing and replacing their first set. No matter what comes of them, their fangs will always grow back. No other teeth mutate like this.

Fangs lengthen and retract when around blood or not. It's not something that can be helped or even trained out. When blood is present, fangs will lengthen even if there is no intention to feed. Automatic reaction and a painful one at that. They get used to it but it's a sharp pain like having a human tooth extracted but it doesn't have prolonged swelling or discomfort. Only when getting longer or retracting back in.

Whenever they're in bloodlust or a state of starvation, they gain a sense of x-ray vision but instead it's vein mapping. They can see through skin to arteries and if it's severe blood lust, they can even see the smaller, tinier veins in fingers and faces. This is a sight that ever vampire possesses in order to obtain blood easier or figure out a good place to bite. Anything that is living will be seen in a structure of veins. Animals, humans, other vampires.

Severing the brain stem from the body is one of the few sure-fire way to kill a vampire. Alternatively burning them to pure ash and scattering them or holding them in separate vessels. (If ALL ashes are contained somehow and mixed with fresh blood, there is a reanimation process so beheading them is more permanent.) Silver weapons or exposure to silver prior to wound can result in death as well.

Alcohol is SUPER effective when they drink it. Think of one shot making them drunk because it hits their bloodstream almost immediately. A double would have them seeing double and acting like a hot mess. 3+ for even the beefiest of men would have them blacked out and vomiting on the sidewalks.

Drugs effect them but only in extremely high doses and for nothing really over 2 hours or so. Short, short longevity but they have the same crash that humans do. If it's hard detoxing symptoms for humans, it's the same but faster. They can do a hard drug, feel the high for maybe 1 - 2 hours and immediately go into hallucinating and shaking from the aftermath. The same goes for Pharmacia. There's really no medicine that works.

Garlic is a myth. So is wolfsbane.

Silver on the other hand is a very real, very deadly weapon that still rings true. A single pinprick of a silver sewing needle and it can render a vampire powerless. Slow them down to the speed of a human, take away their rapid healing and remove all of their heightened senses. Silver directly into the bloodstream essentially renders them as they were before they turned in physical response and structure. It's the only metal that burns vampires skin and will char it if it sits in one spot for too long. Silver is the only kind of metal that can forge chain that vampires cannot break and can successfully be restrained in. Any wounds inflicted in silver take longer to heal.

They can't reproduce after being turned. Purebloods + Purebloods are the only exception and it's still extremely rare. (Only 9 children born in over 2,500+ years.)

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Whatever color their eyes are, blood-lust accentuates the brightest color. I.e: Brown eyes turn Yellow/Gold, Blue eyes turn White/Purple exct. (Different powers can change this depending on the vampire and their history, sire.) Just think neon, glowing eyes in the dark if they're thirsty or hunting.

They stay frozen in whatever physical appearance they're turned in. Their metabolism is whack so they don't really lose or gain weight, it's down to cosmetic changes or cosmetic surgery. Which at least it heals flawlessly and doesn't ever change. But there aren't many options for personally invested physical change.

Their hair and nails grow super fast.

Vampires usually have the hair color they have when they are turned but around 15% experience graying or whitening of their hair within a few days of turning. Due to a semi-common genetic string in humans.

Vampires don't tan. They burn. No matter what their skin color is. Most are the palest/pasty tone of their natural skin color merely due to anemia and lack of blood circulation.

They don't blush or show physical signs of fever.

Vampires don't sweat or flush when exerting or exercising. They don't have to regulate their body temperatures.

They get dry skin pretty often and it's important to combat it with baths and soaks and lotions/oils whenever possible.

They are usually a lukewarm body temperature. As low as 15°C|59°F to as much as 21°C|69.8°F.

Every vampire has a certain amount of charming allure to them. In whatever form or fashion suits them the best, it's a natural attractant to their human counterparts. A glint to their eyes, a certain smile, the pitch or timbre of their voice. Endearing, seductive, mysterious, whichever shines through in their personality. They are magnetic, attractive to the human eye, no matter what they tend to look like.

They can see themselves in aluminum coated mirrors. Just not silver.

Mental Effects

There is a staggering 95% probability that 'created' vampires will have amnesia unless turned by a pureblood/noble/king/queen/high ranking blood vampire. They remember nothing of their human lives and this is extremely common. It's actually very rare to remember anything prior to your awakening. (That's why there are usually strict laws about siring without consent and proof of consent.)

It is very easy for vampires to be blinded by fits of rage when starving for blood. They can fly into blind anger and attack people they normally wouldn't or even foes they have no chance of winning against. Depending on their remaining strength when this tipping point of starvation happens; it can be extremely dangerous to be around.

Most turned vampires suffer a psychotic break in their early turning years. (Between 6mo and up to 25 years of awakening age. I.e: from the date of being bitten.) The brain is the last thing to be altered in the physical process and because of this, it's believed that their mental state has to crumble to be built better. It's unknown as to exactly why this happens but it's almost guaranteed. It's the vampire equivalent of 'adolescence'.

Over 75% of vampires experience periodic depression and random bouts of sadness. Another 39% live with bouts of mild to moderate psychosis. (This has been suspected to happen because of the physical stasis and improper circulation of chemicals/hormones/exct. Many believe it's because of the guilt of their King, Caine.)

Mental illnesses that aren't born from physical imbalances are in cases of amnesia, cured. Those that are chemically related are usually worsened by the stagnant physical changes of vampirism. It's rare that those with amnesia remember their traumas or emotional upsets after turning.

The "amnesia" of turning is the death of a human psyche. With the staggering rate of permanent amnesia, it is hard to figure out exactly how it happens but it's widely known.

Society

Humans are not fully aware of vampires. This still rings true with the fear of world war and or wiping out the human race given their species.

There is a high society "government" type of monarchy. Each clan or type of vampires has a leader "elder". This is usually the oldest vampire to date of that specific type. Sometimes it's a group or a family of elders. In most modern day they have adapted to a more "presidential" route and have to establish themselves as leader types to be considered for any kind of law making or enforcement. (I.e: Noble bloodline, diligent efforts of servitude such as public service, military or other.)

There is a strict law against turning humans. Vampires are required to have clearly given consent and the process is to be looked over by an elder or enforcer. They must show strenuous documentation of that persons preservation in the name of probable amnesia. They must have a comprehensive processing of that persons interests, personality traits, societal standing, proof of occupational termination, familial status and situational agreement. (Basically they don't want humans forgetting their lives entirely and they want to make sure that they are able to move somewhere or hide from their families until they're well trained enough to be around them again. It's a very long to legally accomplish it.

Every city handles turning differently. Some require the sire to pay the death penalty and others are strictly against killing the one person responsible of their turned kindred.

Vampires are in every day jobs, doing anything and everything that humans do. From trash collecting, to law and doctors. Fame, fortune, poor, criminal; they all live as many walks of life as humans do.

Anti-vampire establishments are alive and well. Most are run by other vampires. Some humans share their beliefs but most typically it's a resounding amount of vampire extremists. This is legal due to the fact that they try to adhere and coexist for their sanctions ordinance. Helping enforce justice for their regions and implore an opposing force for rampaging vampires or other law breaking kindred.

Most human killings are covered up, tampered with or has someone on the inside working on doing both. It's a constant job but a needed one to keep their existence safe from being proven.

There is a massive shortage on vampire doctors serving other vampires or studying from what little information there is on vampirism. The ratio looking like 1 to 300. 1 doctor for every 300 vampires.

The most vampire dominated and lucrative occupations are generally law, publishing and sex working. There are 3 vampires with these jobs to every human worker.

Here is an additional post about how vampire blood would effect humans.

So that was everything I could think of for the time being. I may continue to edit and update this as I have time or I think of something that I haven't touched base on yet. But this is just the general lore I work with when I do write about vampires or when I think about them in general. Feel free to skip certain parts or like.. adapt it however you'd like. I made this to more so inspire people not to show a list of HOW things should go. Take of it what you like and ignore what you don't! Add more if you think of something!

Some of it gets a bit random but it's still things that I've either incorporated in some unpublished fics or talked about with some friends or just fantasized about in general. There's bits and pieces in all media for vampires that I really enjoy and I think every new style spins something different and makes for wonderful content!

#whump prompt #vampires #vampire prompt #whump list #character development #character reference #character sheet #vampire reference #character guide #vampire #vampire list #tw blood #tw violence #tw vampires #vlor

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Teenage Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: this is LONG so please dont let this flop

prompt: y/n is 12-16, takes place from Avengers 1 to Avengers 2

The Early Years (1) The Intense Years (3) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

starting out with tony powering stark tower with clean energy:

it was very late, you were supposed to be asleep

“what are you doing up, missy? it’s way past your bedtime”

“it’s my fault, i let her stay up to see her dad’s big achievement” -pepper

just vibing on the couch with absolutely no intention of sleeping anytime soon

you really did take after your dad

“how was the show, sweetheart?”

“uh, cool?”

coulson showing up when he did

you were excited bc you knew he had to be there for superhero stuff

“hi, agent coulson!!”

“hey there, kiddo!

BEGGING to come with your dad

“no. absolutely not. there is absolutely no way im letting you get involved in any of this”

you got involved

but like, not the whole “im a 12 year old superhero” involved

“y/n, sweetie, this is dr. banner, you’re gonna be his assistant in the lab!”

“—what?” *bruce utterly shocked*

talking that man’s ear off oh my GOD

he taught you a few things along the way, though

it ended up being very educational

“yeah i built my own suit! it’s definitely not as cool as my dad’s...and he put a bunch of safety controls on it. obviously, i could bypass them and do whatever i wanted, but it’s best not to break his trust, you know?”

“you are astonishingly wise for a 12 year old”

bruce being kind of scared around you because he thinks he could hurt you

also scared you might hurt yourself on the scepter

CASUALLY talking to the rest of the avengers

“so, you’re stark’s daughter? now i’ve met three generations of starks.” -steve

“oh, wonderful, there’s a smaller one!” -thor

“hey, y/n, it’s good to see you again. still practicing those moves i showed you?” -natasha

listennnn as you got older you started to exert more of your father’s personality traits

you developed his sarcastic and occasionally ill-timed humor...and

YOU WERE COCKY AS FUCK

“i mean, i’m not saying that i’m better than you but i know you’re thinking it”

when the helicarrier was attacked nobody really knew the correct way to protect you

“dad? dad??”

“right here, y/n, come with me”

tony brought your suit for emergency purposes

“you put this on and you stay here, understand?”

oh, another thing you got from him? NOT LISTENING

helping where you could, the first step to becoming a superhero, right?

being really upset when coulson died

but understanding that it was apart of the job

going back to new york for some alien ass kicking and having the whole team check on you every thirty seconds

“y/n, how’s it going?” “stark junior, are you doing okay?” “need any help out there, kid?”

“you guys don’t have to babysit me” “i’m still kickin’ it, thanks”

tony calling right before he went through the wormhole

“hey sweetheart, just gotta let you know that i love you and i am so proud of everything you’ve done”

the avengers holding you back from him when he fell back to the ground because you were unreasonably worried for obvious reasons

“is he breathing? steve? steve, let me see him! JARVIS, are you there?”

falling on the ground and hugging him (with your clunky-ass armor still on)

“hey! yeah, i missed you too”

*clink clink* pat on the back

schwarma stop

“you’re gonna eat it and you’re gonna like it”

having your own input on the stark tower remodel

taking a slight pause for random stuff

you’ve definitely drawn his mustache/goatee on your face before

“please tell me that’s not permanent marker”

“it’s permanent marker”

you and pepper doing mother/daughter things for bonding (but you and her already had a great relationship)

unreasonable amount of cussing from your father has rubbed off onto you and now he doesn’t notice when you say bad words

natasha taught you how to shoot so that was cool

“if i can shoot a repulsor, i think i can shoot a gun”

“whatever you say, baby stark”

obviously the team is just a bunch of protective uncles and an aunt

“i miss [insert avenger here]”

resume to iron man 3

just tinkering in the shop with pops

“are you sure that’s safe, dad?”

“duh, why wouldn’t it be safe?”

you were right and it was not safe

sometimes you proved your dad wrong and it made him happy?

“well would you look at that, you’re right”

learning how to help your dad with his anxiety and panic attacks

the house in malibu got blown up and your dad disappeared

you were benched by pepper effective immediately

“don’t you think it would be better if i were still out there? someone has to be out there and...i don’t know, protect the people?”

“y/n, please, you’re still a kid. i can excuse fighting aliens but i draw the line at terrorism”

“you can excuse fighting aliens??”

pepper sent you to a different house and hired a...babysitter

zip zip zip its AOU time yall remember the beginning of that at the hydra base

*explosion* “oh, shit! didn’t mean to do that...”

“watch your language, y/n!” -cap

“don’t tell my daughter what to do!”

having an external monologue that everyone just kind of rolls with

“glad i put a heater in this suit” “anyone up for burgers?” *humming Eye of the Tiger*

going back to the lab with tony and bruce and being very uncomfortable with the idea of ultron

“okay dad, you know how im usually right?”

“lighten up, kiddo. remember what i taught you about trial and error? this is a learning experience”

*bruce and you side eying*

“i’ll ground you”

“what?!”

“kidding, im kidding”

a lot of kid jokes from other partygoers

“isnt it past your bedtime”

“very funny”

actually dressing up nice for a change, as opposed to an oil-stained band tee

but then ur outfit was ruined because you had to shoot murder bots :(

“not cool! i designed this room!”

tony still got all the blame for ultron while you and bruce went 😬

tony made a joke about ultron being your brother and you didn’t talk to him for hours

“oh, come on! you have to learn to laugh at your mistakes!”

“poor choice of words, stark” -literally everyone

🎶getting to see your worst feaaar🎶

which was a mixture between tony not surviving the wormhole and being abandoned and vulnerable again

your phone got confiscated “because of ultron”

meeting wanda and pietro on better terms

“you are stark’s daughter?”

“um, yeah, that’s me. i sincerely apologize for anything he’s ever done wrong while i’ve been alive”

actually getting along with them (plus you were in a similar age range)

“uncle rhodey!!!”

“staying out of trouble, i hope?”

“define ‘trouble’”

okay okay, enough of that. besides a few robots hitting you and you hitting harder...and ultron taking a couple personal jabs at you after accessing some of your social media accounts...it went back to normal(ish)

you made a friend of wanda and visited the avengers compound weekly and helped with training

and nat gave you some spy pointers to help you if you ever found yourself without the suit

when you left the compound after thor that day, you had some nice father/daughter time

“why don’t i give you a driving lesson, yeah?”

“you’re gonna trust me to drive this thing?”

“sure, why not?”

you drove very fast, wonder where you learned that from

he was clasping onto the seats and whispering curse words

“next time, you can drive with happy”

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark #iron man #iron man x daughter!reader #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers

[m-y-fandoms]

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu x reader (fluff + angst) - (COMMISSION)

When I get a commission that isn’t Danganronpa related, I keep the client’s name private and switch names and some paragraphs around to fit a Danganronpa character so you all can enjoy it. This commission best fit Fuyuhiko’s personality, so here you are - Admin Kokichi

SFW, gender-neutral reader

     I walked through the halls of Hope’s Peak Academy, still toweling off my scalp after a shower in the gym’s locker room. Heavily I sighed, thankful for the much-needed sustenance that was soon to come when I finally reached the cafeteria. Sport after sport, activity after activity, it really wore the body out. Hope’s Peak really stressed the importance of the Ultimate-level students honing their skills. That’s why we were there, after all. Yes, we took general education classes like any normal student, the basics like the many different types of mathematics, general art, history, government, sciences and all that, but each student in the Main Course had several hours a day blocked out of their schedule dedicated to their specific talent and that talent only. It was rigorous, obsessive, and exhausting. 

     At times like this, I envied those who sat down for their talent, like animators and gamers, for I, the Ultimate Athlete, was always on my feet. Not that I’m saying art and gaming don’t take a lot out of those students, I just wanted a break from physical exertion once and awhile. My brain wasn’t stimulated quite as much as I’d like. Even the other athletes, like Aoi Asahina, the Ultimate Swimmer, and Akane Owari, the Ultimate Gymnast, had one set training area, and trained one sport for long sessions during the school day. As the all around Ultimate Athlete, the administration of Hope’s Peak had me training lots of different sports and exercise methods in short bursts. This meant running across campus from the pool to the dojo, from the gym to the baseball field, from the wrestling mat to the biking trails. Every day, a different muscle was sore, but I suppose I can’t really complain. It is an honor to be selected to attend Hope’s Peak. I mean, there were hundreds of regular students paying extraordinary rates to attend, just to be mocked and berated for being Reserve Course students anyway. I was lucky to have been chosen as the Ultimate Athlete at all, considering they already had so many types of athletes here. I think the appeal of my talent was that instead of being the best at one sport alone, I was above average at every single sport there was. Well, there was no use wasting time dwelling on my burnt-out body, because immediately after lunch, I was expected back at the gym with no delay. The longer this walk took, the less time I had to eat.

     Picking up the pace, I sprinted - something I excelled at - through the courtyard that connected the Reserve Course and Main Course wings for what was a well-known shortcut to the cafeteria. Reaching the other side, I slowed my pace, my eyes landing on a curious scene that caught my attention. Three Reserve Course girls - distinguishable by the ash-black of their identical uniforms as opposed to the customizable (and optional) Ultimate uniforms - were whispering in hushed tones in front of one of the cream-colored pillars of the courtyard surrounded by some well-tended flowers. They trembled slightly, a bit jittery it seemed, and were clearly gossiping profusely like the gaggle of hens they resembled. There was malice and fear in their expressions as they looked back and forth from the object of their scrutiny then back to each other to deliberate and discuss. My eyes followed their line of sight to the opposite side of the courtyard, where the pond and benches sat. Of course, it was him. How did I not notice him as I passed by from that end? I must have been in some hurry.

     Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the Ultimate Yakuza, sat on the ground leaned up against a wall on the opposite side of the courtyard, scrawling notes into a notebook in his lap. His brow was creased, fairly engrossed in his studies. I could tell he heard the girls chattering, they weren’t being subtle and weren’t very far away, but Fuyuhiko was paying them no mind.

     “Do you think his dad threatens the teachers if they give him a bad grade?” A blonde gasped, as if the thought had just occurred to her.

     “Probably, I wouldn’t put anything past that clan of brutes,” another plain-looking girl whimpered in reply.

     I stopped to watch the situation play out, hiding behind a nearby pillar and ready to step in if it continued, as rumor-spreading bullies were something that I just couldn’t stand by any means. I knew Fuyuhiko could handle himself… err… maybe I was just being a bit nosey to be honest.

     After a few more minutes of the clique getting louder and bolder with their insultingly toxic babble, I saw Fuyuhiko’s head snap up, throwing them a pointed glare. The flock gasped in unison, with looks of horror on their faces, and scrambled away past me and into the hall. I smirked merrily: now that reaction was the more typical one. I was just thinking how brave these girls must have been to be provoking a Kuzuryuu in the first place. Many people in the school, and just the country in general were terrified of them. I myself felt a bit indifferent about Fuyuhiko. He was in my home room and never caused trouble. 

     The Kuzuryuu Clan was the largest and most powerful Yazuka clan in the country, with ties to national governments, huge drug rings, and a hand in many influential corporations throughout the country. People knew to fear them and not to mess with them, like any gang. Fuyuhiko was the only son of the head of the clan, and next in line as its leader, but if you’d spoken more than two words to the guy, you’d see that it was wise to respect him, but there was no need to fear him. In fact, his little sister Natsumi, who terrorized the Reserve Course girls, probably was the reason Fuyuhiko’s reputation around the school was smeared by association. People saw her bitterness, her jealousy, her need to harass or threaten anyone who she felt inferior to, her horrible attitude, and probably transferred that fear over to her older brother, thinking the siblings must be similar. It was just ridiculous. If anything, he was an asshole at times, but not dangerous.

     Plus, how could someone be afraid of a guy who looked like that? Fuyuhiko was both adorable in some ways, and handsome in others. His cute side came out through in his meager height, the way his pale skin blushed easily when flustered, the softness of his blonde hair, the small pout he wore at times. He didn’t even have ink yet like most Yazuka. His skin was milky and untouched. On the other side of the spectrum, he was handsome and manly in the way he spoke, the elegance of his expensive suits and ties, his intelligence, the way he carried himself, his sharp and intense gaze. I always thought it was more reasonable to be attracted to him rather than afraid.

     He did have a bit of an attitude problem, but I often felt bad for him because of it. The quipping, feisty exterior he presented was clearly a coping mechanism, a method of self-defense after years of pressure to be a pillar of his family and being misunderstood by his peers. It probably wasn’t easy to be expected to watch or even perform drug deals, interrogations, or even murders - who knows? Then after all of that, you come back into normal society and get judged for being tiny with a baby face behind your back while people are scared of you to your face.

     He projected the anger he was taught was normal, and used the years of being raised in the Yakuza to adapt and mold his personality. He often cursed out or blew up at others, was stubborn and hard to work with, did his own thing, and despite how well he thought he hid her, his personal bodyguard being around the corner ready to kick someone’s ass at a moment's notice deterred many potential friendships. Most of our home room were friends with him, but I rarely talked to him. I really only made myself known to a few of the quieter kids in our class like Komaeda and Tsumiki, even Peko herself at times… but other than them I mainly kept to myself.

     I just wished…. he’d talk to me first. I was desperate to get to know him without the fear of feeling like I was bothering him.

     Ok, so maybe I wasn’t as indifferent as I let on before. Now that I’ve given myself away, I suppose I’ll just say it:

     Yes, I was a bit biased on the topic of Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu because… I had a massive crush on him.

     And it was hard, so very hard to see him in class everyday, at the dorms, around campus, and not be able to make those feelings known. I couldn’t tell if it was fear of judgment, fear of rejection, fear of him just cussing me out until I pissed myself, maybe a mix of all three? But now we were alone… save for Peko, who was undoubtedly spying from somewhere close by. Why should I care what anyone thinks? I was sure he’d never tell anyone if he rejected me anyway. He wasn’t the gossiping type, and he only told people what he needed them to hear. Steadying myself, I took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the decorative colonnade. As I shakily stepped across the grass, lunch became the last thing on my mind, and I approached him. He didn’t even look up until I began to speak, cowardice lining my tone.

     “H-hey,” I mumbled, towering above him like some weirdo. He squinted in suspicion, a small pout settling onto his lips as he silently acknowledged me. “Are you studying?!” I yelled more than spoke, my nerves taking hold. He rolled his eyes, holding the notebook up with one hand. I couldn’t help scanning him, taking in the way the sun bounced off the yellow fluff of his buzz cut, the way his chest heaved slowly, the cute little mole under his bottom lip. I was sweating, wondering if Peko would knock me out for getting too close, but also entranced in his hazel eyes.

     “What does it look like?” He huffed, irritated by my very presence. He probably came out hime to be alone, after all. Now he had to deal with me right after those insufferable girls.

     “Ah, haha, yeah, well anyway, I wanted to say that those girls were obnoxious and wrong. You shouldn’t let their words get to you. They’re meaningless. Y-you shouldn’t care about what they think. I-” I spoke quickly, nervously, and he parried my words instantly, tired of me wasting his precious time.

     “I don’t give a shit what they think. Since you’re such a fuckin’ creep and were apparently watching the whole time, you must have seen me scare them off, yeah? I obviously don’t care, and I don’t need some rando to come give me a fuckin’ pep talk! What do I look like to you, some fuckin’ kid that got his feelings hurt by some bullies? Fuck those bitches and fuck you! If that’s all you had to say, get lost,” he spat, and I flinched backwards. He was feeling vulnerable, and biting back was the only thing she knew, like an abused dog lashing out at its rescuers. I knew not to take it personal, that Fuyuhiko sometimes said things he didn’t mean out of anger. I knew all of this, but I was still taken aback and thoroughly intimidated. Almost as soon as he’d snapped at me, he settled back into his calm studying, opening the notebook again. That was Fuyuhiko, a little ball of rage that could be turned on and off like a switch.

     “Well, I, um-” I cut off my own words, swiftly turning on my heel and marching out of the courtyard, clutching my bag like it could save me from this humiliation.

~

     “Fuck… I’m such an idiot.” I shook my head, involuntarily replaying my blunderous attempt to ask Fuyuhiko out in my head over and over again. Could it even be called that? I mean, I didn’t even get to the asking out part before I made a complete fool of myself and pissed him off. I was now rushing through the corridors of the first floor, trying to make it to what was my last class of the day after a very short lunch and some extremely demanding training. The gardening class was mainly unsupervised and casual, but I hated the feeling of being technically late nonetheless.

     The term “class” is used loosely hime. At Hope’s Peak, each student was required to choose an elective course that “gave back” to the community or school in some way. It was thought to boost the school’s reputation, along with the student’s resume. That was the sentiment the school held, anyway. Some students volunteered at local retirement homes, some, like the eccentric Gundham Tanaka, lead clubs that tended to rescue animals and raised them. Others tutored exchange students in Japanese, some did maintenance around the school to earn the credit. I chose the gardening club, where students would break up into little groups and tend to all the plants, flowers, grass, vegetable gardens, and courtyards on and around campus. Sometimes we even took “field trips” to tend to other local greenery. I found it to be the most calming and quiet option of all the electives. There was very little human interaction, and it was satisfying to see the (literal) fruits of your labor grow.

     Today I would be tending to the garden in the secondary courtyard behind the school. This one was more hidden away, rarely ever used, and that’s what I loved about it. But… as I turned the corner, my box of gardening supplies in hand, I froze dead in my tracks, shuffling back to hide behind the cover of the wall.

     Fuyuhiko was sitting there on his hands and knees, pruning weeds from the garden. The coat of his uniform was discarded, and she sat in only his slacks and a button up dress shirt with a tie. He had little towels folded up as make-shift knee padding, green gloves on, and was leaning into his work with such fervor.

     What?! I screamed internally, panic taking hold of me. I had been a member of the gardening club for months, and not once had I seen him on the class roster or in rotation. I’d been to every station, been assigned every task at least once, and I’d never been paired with him. So of course, on the day I was thoroughly humiliated in front of him, here he was, ruining what was supposed to be the most relaxing part of my day. I considered leaving, simply lying about my hour of gardening time on the school’s check-in portal, but something in me told me to stay. I sat there, fighting with myself, nearly collapsing with anxiety, and then he began to speak, tearing my from my thoughts:

     “Now now, how are you gonna grow big and strong if you keep lettin’ these little punks fuck you up like this…?” He huffed, almost fatherly in his tone. I peeked around the corner, wondering who the hell he was talking to. Maybe this shift wouldn’t be so awkward with a third party to distract me from him, I thought, but when I hazarded a glance, not a soul was in sight, save Fuyuhiko. Taking a closer look, I noticed his calloused hands nestled around the leaf of a plant, and he tsk’d, observing the bite marks left by pestiferous insects and small animals. He was talking to the plant?! My cheeks started to warm up, my heart melting at the realization.

     Fuyuhiko began to hum, then to sing softly, a lullaby of sorts for this injured little green darling. Holding my breath, I nearly crumpled against the wall, feeling my flush spread from my cheeks to rush throughout my entire body. This is so fucking cute, I thought to myself, glancing once more, perhaps a bit riskily. I was getting greedy, greedy for even a glimpse of seeing him in the state of happiness I knew he deserved. I couldn’t care less if Peko was sneaking up behind me with a bamboo sword at the ready.

     When I looked, he was smiling, truly smiling. I’d never seen him smile like that before, a smile birthed out of an innocent and serene joy, and now I never wanted it to stop. There was no way I was turning back now.

      I took a few steps back down the hall, then stomped loudly toward the courtyard, allowing him to save face by thinking I had only just approached. I knew I would be in for quite the sour retaliation if he knew I had caught him singing. He may have even gotten up and left. He looked up, still leaned over his plants but now dead silent as I entered, and when he realized who I was, his breath caught in his throat. Another expression I rarely saw from him: one of being caught off guard.

     “Hey… so, I didn’t know you were in the gardening club? I’ve been in it since the start and I’ve never seen you.” I set down my box next to him and pulled out some gloves. I was hoping that acting like earlier never happened was the best course of action. Something can’t be awkward if it doesn’t exist, right? Luckily, he played along… or rather, just didn’t bring it up, either.

     “Uh, yeah. I was hoping to avoid all the bullshit of the whole, volunteer-but-not -actually-because-it’s-a-requirement class thing altogether. I just don’t have time for this shit, but my academic advisor caught on and forced me into gardening. It was the last one with spots left open…” he grumbled, as if he weren’t absolutely loving it mere moments ago.

     “Huh… and they aren’t penalizing you for, you know, losing all those points from the first few months you missed?” I inquired bravely. Maybe those girls were right earlier about his father threatening professors…?

     “Nah, I guess not. My advisor is super chill. She worked something out…”

     “That’s lucky…” my words trailed off, and we both got to work. The longer the silence grew, the more the awkward energy imposed itself on both of us. I could tell that he was thinking back to our earlier encounter by the way he made eye contact and quickly snatched his gaze away, the way she would open his mouth then close it without a hesitant word.

~

     Half an hour passed, and my nerves were beginning to stand on edge. What was more daunting than being alone with your crush? Being alone with your crush who verbally ripped you a new one that same day.

     Now mere inches away from him, focusing in on the same patch of flowers, we both reached for a small watering can at the same time, and our hands touched briefly, fleetingly before he snatched his own back, a shade of pink dusting his soft cheeks. He turned away, embarrassed, but I couldn’t have been more excited by the small interaction. Still, for both our sakes, I felt the need to break the silence.

     “You… you seem happier - now, I mean… as opposed to earlier today…” It was time to bring up the elephant in the room. I saw his body tense up, his spine stiffen, and he turned to face me, dirt staining his forearms and a swipe on his cheek where he’d scratched an itch earlier.

     “Yeah… I should probably apologize for that, bein’ a dick and all. I was just, really pissed and stressed. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that… it’s just… those stupid, loud-mouth, air-headed-” I saw his fists clench, his gloves squeaking a bit under the pressure. I continued where he left off, not wanting him to force himself to relive the gossip or the anger attached to it.

     “It’s fine, seriously. I get it. There will always be assholes like them in the world. I don’t blame you for being upset. Besides, I’m sure it was weird to have a stranger just approach you like that, trying to give you unsolicited advice and bothering you by-”

     “Well, you’re not really a stranger, are you? I’ve seen you around plenty of times… and you’re in my home room.” He spoke reluctantly, clearly fighting against the compulsory need to deflect and defend.

     “O-oh, yeah, you are. I didn’t think you’d notice.” I felt my heart rate speed up. Of course I’d seen him many times in the back of the classroom, but I had no idea he’d given me even a first glance, much less a second one.

     “Of course I noticed. Sports, right? Exercise, fitness, an’ all that?” He nodded, smirking. God, he was so hot… I didn’t know how to contain my excitement. I was trying my best.

     “Yeah, exactly. Sports, exercise, fitness. That’s me.” I chuckled a bit, finding myself more and more drawn to him with every second spent in his presence.

     “Shit’s cool. I can respect someone who’s disciplined and keeps in shape. I’ve seen a few of your games,” he let slip.

     “You have?” I immediately picked it up, a shiver of anticipation running over my skin and setting my pores on fire. Fuyuhiko wasn’t on any of the teams I played for and his Ultimate talent had nothing to do with sports. He wasn’t the type to go watch a sports game for fun, and didn’t have the free time for it anyway.

     My eyes widened slowly, and I’m sure he could see the moment I made the connection deep inside myself almost as soon as I’d made it. 

     That was the day I realized that Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu liked me back. 

     An obscene shade of red flooded onto his face and his nose scrunched up, his voice cracking as he spoke:

     “Stop starin’ at me like that! The fuck’s wrong with you?!”

#fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #fuyuhiko x reader #danganronpa #super danganronpa 2 #sdr2 goodbye despair #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa killing harmony #end of hope's peak academy #gender neutral reader #female reader #male reader #angst #fluff #crush #oneshot #commission #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #reader insert #scenarios #headcanon #sfw #Trigger happy havoc #nagito komaeda #writing commission #mikan tsumiki #danganronpa imagine #y/n #s/o

[imaginingmyloki]

A Shift in Reality

Fandom/universe: Marvel

Pairing: LokixReader

Timeline: AU marvel where its after Ragnarok so Loki keeps his character development and no one dies because infinity war/end game never happened :)

Word Count: 2140

A/N: So this is the first non-requested fic I have written in a long time. Reader’s powers are essentially Daisy Johnson’s powers (earthquake/vibrations for those who haven’t seen agents of shield- if you havent seen it I HIGHLY recommend it!  If any part of reader’s powers being used for certain things get confusing I’ll try to link a youtube video of Daisy using her powers doing the same thing to see a visual of it! But here’s an overview video of her using her powers to do a lot of really cool stuff if you’re interested :) not at all relevant to the story but I have a MAJOR crush on daisy haha). I’m already working on part 2 and it should be posted early next week! Anyways, I hope you guys like it :) and requests are open so if you have any let me know!

“Kid, where are you?” Stark came over coms sounding like a frantic father. “I’m fine, Tony. I’m 26 and I don’t need a babysitter.” I had only been with the team for a couple months. Tony had found me in rough shape, running after escaping from Hydra. After a few weeks healing and training, I had been allowed to go on a few easy missions with the team but always had to stay with someone since I was still learning to control my abilities. Hydra didn’t teach me control, they only taught me to use anger as the driving force behind my power and with powers like mine, that could get dangerous quickly. This was my first mission where I wasn’t instructed to stay with someone the entire time. I still ended up walking with Loki for the first few minutes after everyone splitting up. He and I had become friends since I had moved to the compound. He was the only one who didn’t look at me like he was waiting for me to break or pestering me to talk about what I had been through before joining them. It was supposed to be a simple mission just to gather some intel from an old shut down Hydra base. I turned down a hallway that had a door at the end as Loki turned down one on the opposite side of the corridor. He gave me a nod before we went our separate ways as if to reassure me that I could handle this. I made my way towards the door and realized that it was slightly open and I could hear low talking inside. I paused just outside the door to listen, “There’s at least 6 of them here and probably more outside for backup. We need to hurry up and wipe the server and blow the rest of it.” 

I tried to warn Loki over coms but didn’t get an answer so slowly made my way into the room, staying out of sight of the two men sitting at the bank of computers. As I snuck around a large shelf, something came into view. A bomb that had a timer on it and was counting down. It was hooked to multiple, smaller impact bombs that would go off after the initial explosion disturbed them.This would cause catastrophic damage to the building. We had 2 minutes until it would bring the building down on top of everyone inside. Giving up on staying hidden, I stepped out, hands at the ready, and said “Stop the bomb. Now.” The man at work on the computer continued what he was doing and the man who had an air of authority about him slowly turned to face me and the air in my lungs suddenly went cold. His name was Nelson and he was the man that had been in charge of me when Hydra had me captive. It took everything in me to remind myself that I was in control of myself and I didn’t need to tell him that I was ready to comply with whatever orders he would give me. I was free now and there would be no punishments for disobeying. “Well now if it isn’t my most promising weapon of mass destruction. We’ve been looking for you. The boss is not happy with me for losing you. You took out quite a few high value assets on your way out.” He was smirking and the look on his face made me feel like I was missing a piece of the puzzle. With coms still silent and no sign of anyone coming to help me, the fear started to sink in and the room around us started trembling as I began to lose control of my powers. Nelson chuckled, “Still having trouble controlling the fear, I see. Guess we didn’t quite beat that out of you yet, huh?” I glanced quickly at the timer, a minute and 15 seconds left. Loki suddenly came running into the room, a knife in both hands. Before I could say anything to him, the knives left his hands with a swift flick of his wrist. One took out the man at the computer and the other landed in Nelson’s shoulder. “Go, Loki. Get everyone else out of here.” He ignored me and sent a warning out to the others over coms. Mine was apparently the only one not working. I heard Nelson let out a short laugh at my confusion. “Of course we knew you were here, 9213. We may not be able to hack all of Stark’s tech but we can manage to fry a single com unit.”  Hydra didn’t refer to any of their assets by names. It was either “soldier” for those that they tried to replicate the winter soldier on or by your file number. I was file number 9213. Just as I was about to respond, the bomb went off. Without thinking, I dove towards it and used my powers to contain the explosion. Loki punched Nelson, knocking him out. The exertion of trying to hold the explosion in place was starting to get to me. “Loki, I need to let this go. Is everyone out?” he nodded and I told him to go as well. He didn’t move but I couldn’t hold it anymore so I pushed it as far as I could in the opposite direction of Loki. The force of the explosion threw me into the shelves and just before everything went black I realized that Nelson was nowhere to be seen.

                                              --2 weeks later--

I sighed in frustration as I rolled over and adjusted the pillow for what felt like the hundredth time. Every single time I lay down and close my eyes to sleep since we got back from the mission, I can hear a rhythmic humming noise but when I open my eyes to try and find the source of the noise, it disappears. Giving up on sleep, I made my way to the kitchen for a midnight snack. “Oh for fucks sake, why does Thor keep putting the Oreos on the top shelf?” I grumbled to myself as I climbed up on the counter to reach my favorite cookies and heard a low chuckle behind me. “Need some help with that, Love?” I turned around with my arms crossed and looked down at Loki from where I was standing on the counter. “You could have offered before I climbed up here...” I pouted. After grabbing the Oreos and Loki helping me down from the counter, we sat on the couch together. Loki was almost always awake late at night so we had developed a sort of routine. We sat and talked for a few hours about everything or we sat and read together. Tonight was a reading kind of night but after a few minutes of comfortable silence he said “So what’s been keeping you up this late, Darling? Sleepless nights are my forte but before recently, I rarely saw you up and about after midnight.” I didn’t know how to explain the nonexistent noise that was plaguing me and keeping me awake without sounding crazy. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation I sighed and said “Ever since we got back from the mission a couple weeks ago, I hear this humming noise whenever I am trying to sleep but its almost like I’m hearing it through a wall. It’s muted but loud at the same time.” He gave me a look of concern “You hit your head pretty hard on that mission.. you were knocked out until we got back home to the compound. You should talk to Banner and make sure you’re ok.” I told him I would talk to Banner when he came down from his room. The sun was just starting to rise and I wanted to go up to the roof to enjoy the peace that always comes with the way the sun slowly chases the darkness away. 

I had been up on the roof for an hour, enjoying the quiet with my eyes closed and my face turned towards the sun. This was my favorite place to meditate and destress. After relaxing and getting my mind to go blank, I started to hear the noise again. Instead of immediately opening my eyes like I had been at night, I tried to focus on the noise to see if I could tell what it was. The humming noise started to die down some and I started hearing a slight beeping in its place. Just as I was about to give up, I heard a familiar voice say “(Y/n)? Can you hear me?” but when I opened my eyes there was no one on the roof with me. With the addition of hearing voices added to my list of problems I decided to give up on meditating and head down to the clinic to see Bruce. When I got to the clinic and told him what was going on he gave me a concerned look. After he ran a few tests, Banner came back into the clinic and I could tell by the look on his face that he was just as confused as I was. “Nothing in the tests suggests that there is any residual damage from the hit you took and you passed the hearing tests with flying colors so I don’t think that it affected your auditory cortex.” he said as he sat back in the chair across from me, rubbing his chin in deep thought. I could tell it was truly bothering him that something was wrong and he couldn’t figure out what it was or how to fix it. There was a knock on the door and Loki peeked his head in, “Are you alright, (Y/N)?”  I smiled at him and gestured to the seat next to me, inviting him to come sit. As he sat down Bruce said “So you said you only hear it when trying to sleep or when you let your mind go blank while meditating?” I nodded and he said “OK so I have an idea. What if we try giving you something to help you sleep? You can sleep here in the clinic so we can monitor everything and maybe get some answers on what’s going on with you.” He must have seen the hesitancy on my face because he was immediately reassuring me that I would be 100% safe and looked after at all time. Loki grabbed my hand and said “I will sit by your side while you rest and look after you myself.” This calmed my nerves a bit and I reluctantly agreed. After Bruce administered the meds and I got comfortable, I was beginning to feel pretty drowsy. Loki and Banner had pulled the comfortable couch from the library into the clinic and put nice cozy blankets on it for me. Loki had set up a chair next to me and was quietly reading out loud because he knew it helped to calm my nerves. As I drifted off to sleep the sound of his voice slowly faded and in its place was the humming. I started to notice more noises added to the humming. A steady beeping noise, hushed voices that I couldn’t quite make out, and I swear I could hear someone snoring. I reached up to scratch my nose and heard a gasp. “She moved. (Y/n)? Are you awake? Can you hear me?” I knew that voice. Why did I know that voice? I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. “What the hell is this?” I asked. My hand immediately went to my throat, surprised by how raspy and dry my voice sounded and the harsh feeling in my throat as if I hadn’t used my voice in a very long time. I was surrounded by strangers in white coats. “Who are you? Where am I?” I tried to move but realized I was hooked up to machines. Wires and IV lines getting tangled as I moved. The beeping was coming from a heart monitor next to my bed. I was in a hospital. Did Nelson find a way to take me away from the compound? I raised my hand in an attempt to use my powers and make a run for it but nothing happened. I looked at my hand in confusion and then searched the room for any kind of clue as to what the hell was happening. There was a small tv on in the corner that caught my attention. The team was on the tv. It was in New York and they were fighting aliens. “Is that the news? What happened?” everyone was looking at me. A small woman slowly sat on the end of the hospital bed and put a hand on my foot. The familiar voice from earlier came from her and said “(Y/n), honey, thats just a movie. Its your favorite movie. Remember? The Avengers?”

#Loki Laufeyson #loki x y/n #marvel #Avengers #loki imagine

[unkownknowledge]

OC: CHAOS GOD OF THE VOID, GIOTA

story I'm still working on your requests don't worry, I just wanted to make a few character sheets since I'm not focused enough rn. I'll finish it when I take my meds though I promise.

And this isn't an oc for any show, rather a character from a multiversal mythos I'm making

also, an important term to understand this: 1 god year=5 billion years

_____________________

Description:

Giota is a very hot and cool Giota stop changing the text! Atleast change your style of writing so the reader can undead immediately Aw but wheres the fun GIOTA

Fine mister fun police, I'll write like this then. And I'll be cooler than you

Young man I wil... forget it, back on track:

Giota is a shapeshifting god of chaos, void, technological progress, freedom, and being a dramatic bitch.

Hey! I'm not a bitch!....maybe a little

When appearing before mortals he'll often take on the form the viewer imagines when they think of a god of chaos would appear as. Often times when the user knows the basic descriptions of Giota from the 'book of tales' will see him as a angel like statue of bones with numerous cracks, no face, and organ pipe wings.

When meeting with gods outside his domain or when he must meet mortals in a set form, he will take on simple, 10ft tall humanoid form with bone skin, a cracked mouth that cracks more when he speaks, two different colored eyes, and longer than floor length black hair. One of his eyes will be crying water that burns upwards, while the other cries fire that flows downwards. In this form he wears a black trenchcoat, green turtleneck, and purple dad pants.

What the fuck are dad pants?

You know, those usually brown pants that are kinda jeans but soft and actually comfortable.

YOU BITCH MY HUSBAND LIKES JEANS AND HIS PANTS ARE SOFT!

YOUR HUSBAND HAS MARSHMALLOW THIGHS! LITERALLY! OF COURSE HIS PANTS ARE SOFT!

Inside his own domain, or if he's feeling especially done with whatever poor bastard made him upset, Giota takes the form of an innocent ten year old child with soft white steel skin, mile long black hair made of silk, and black eyes made of diamonds. In this form he wears pajamas for to big for him, his mouth leads to a dark void, and he carries around two plushies: a bunny made of roses from his mom, and a plush of his adult form from his husband. Of course he becomes an adult if they do anything adult, so please don't start.

Regardless of his form, even when it's based on the perspective of others, he always wears a large knitted infinity scarf his husband made for whenever he wanted to hide away.

_____________________

Powers:

Cool ones

I mean, he's not wrong...

(I should make an ice themed character)

Giota, as a god, has numerous powers related to his domains.

powers of freedom:

inspiring presence- while most gods or beings of power inspire mortals and lesser beings of power to kneel down or bow, Giota’s presence inspires all beings to rise up, to do anything, to do whatever they want, to become the best they can be. this can be used to inspire allies to carry on. However Giota can also let this power run rampant, and free the mind of any shackles, and while this sounds good it really just means removing all morals and causing mass violence, and if he lets it run rampant while in the same dimension he lets it then all life will mutate into eldritch monstrosities of decadence and selfishness. According to him this is to show that balance must be kept between chaos and law.

the torch of liberty- among Giota’s duties as a god of freedom is to liberate the populations of ‘doomed realms’ that have been enslaved. essentially, if a planet in a universe is ruled purely by either law or chaos then the entire universe can be effected, in the case of law it can result in the entire universe becoming one collective conscious. while it’s not common that enslaved worlds occur, however when they do they are the most dangerous of law worlds. to combat worlds like this gods of freedom are given torches that free the minds of the enslaved and bring down holy fire upon the enslavers in the form of the collective will of all the freed people.

powers of technological progress:

cybernetic god-many god-years ago Giota was severely wounded by a rogue god of flesh and a rogue god of metal, to the point even he could not regenerate it. to stop him from dying a cult of his granted Giota cybernetic enhancements. these enhancements integrated into Giota’s flesh as it regenerated and became enhanced in turn by Giota’s divinity, and Giota’s divine power was enhanced then by the cybernetics, resulting in a self sustaining growth in power. while he gladly used this to stop the rogue gods, and once again to destroy an old one, he feels being that powerful would upset the balance of power, so he sealed it in a time lock in time with the seasons and time of day in the void. his power increases from mid day to mid night, and from the end of summer to the end of winter. in the minute of exactly midnight at the end of winter, Giota becomes, in both this multiverse and the old, the most powerful being to exist.

self evolving knowledge- because his position as a god of technology is artificial his powers in it are very weak, being able to only grant full sentience and sapience to machines. he can also create minor miracles of technology, such as summoning a clockwork toy(which he does often)

hey man did you really have to bring up the whole getting my ass kicked thing?

yes, now shut up before I bring up what you sing in the shower

....fucker....

powers of being dramatic:

yeah that wasn't a joke. Giota is the god of being over the top, stylish, and over all flair. in other words, being dramatic

personal sound track- he can cause any song he wants to play when he does anything.

lights, camera, ACTION!- whenever he wants, Giota can cause a bright, sparkling light to emit from his body or behind himself.

my favorite is that one bad bitch’s theme. what’s her name again?

Ragyo Kiyurin?

that's the fucker! terrible taste in morals, but damn does she know how to enter a room.

...can I put sigh when it’s supposed to be me sighing?

powers of the god of chaos

Chaotic existence- for Giota to even exist is, in and of itself, a paradox. he comes from a timeline that never existed, that was on a set path, yet he exist, and he changed the course of the timeline. when he became a chaos god he became a paradox within a paradox, he existed yet did not. to attempt to change any aspect of his being, to take in any part of his being, is to know that which is not there to know, to understand that which is not there, you have to be able to comprehend the very essence of nonexistence to even bare a hair of his getting in your mouth. such a thing easily drives all things that try insane, to the point that every part of their conscience believes that it does not exist.

overwhelming power-chaos gods are only once a multiverse, and with the title comes pure power. such power could turn an infant into an indestructible warrior, however since Giota was already at that level on a mortal scale, and already capable of taking on powerful gods, this power sets him among the highest echelons of divine might.

powers of the god of void

key to nonexistence- the god of the void is the only being who can open the bridge between that which exist and that which does not

rapid regeneration- the void god has an innate ability to regenerate from nearly all damage, even if they are ground to a fine paste. this regeneration is enhanced by the cybernetic enhancements.

speed of darkness- the void god has an innate speed that surpasses light, Giota’s already superhuman speed was enhanced by this.

spear of not- the void god is the sole being in existence and non existence who can wield the spear of not, a finely forged weapon. it is not special beyond being enchanted to withstand godly power and a ‘security lock’ enchantment, however it is still a very well made weapon.

blah blah blah, enough about what I was handed, tell them about my mortal abilities

as Giota just said, and as I’ve brought up before, Giota is extremely powerful even without his powers, he also used to be two other mortals that were less powerful. but over all these were his powers, which he still has.

leather skin- while it might appear or feel like something else, Giota’s skin is exactly like leather armor. this comes from how he was raised as a child to be a powerful warrior and his skin was tanned into hide and treated while it was still on him.

adamantine bone- Giota’s bones were also replaced by an adamantine skeleton when he was a child.

super sonic speeds- during his training as a child, he was taught to be able to surpass the sound barrier on foot.

superhuman strength- his training also trained his body to carry ten tons, however as a mortal he improved that strength to the point he could exert enough force to blast away entire cities by blinking. This power did not come easy.

flight- after training with some monks late in his life, Giota was able to walk on the air, essentially he could fly at the same speed as he could run.

agility- he was trained as a warrior and assassin, so Giota’s training included advanced maneuverability training, including wall running, sneaking across tripwires, etc.

weapon master- Giota is a master in all weapons and various forms of martial arts.

he also has reciev- hey man you good?

I-I’m fine! d-don’t write that I’m crying! 

you...wanna talk about it?

…no...

is it about your mom?

…maybe...

alright take your time.

anyway Giota has a very useful piece of equipment, the cloak of maternity- despite it’s name, it’s actual a cloak that leads to a pocket dimension where Giota carries his weapons and toys. It is called the cloak of maternity because his adoptive mother gave him after he became a god-bounty hunter, she even designed it to help him hide away from people. it even has a designated snack pocket.

_____________________

BIO:

Giota was found by his adoptive mother after he destroyed his timeline, as punishment, or perhaps in an attempt to redeem him, she turned him back into a baby. something Giota happily accepted.

After this his life went on as a mortal’s would, only in the realm of divinity: he went to school, went into college, graduated, then entered the workforce. granted the workforce he entered was bounty hunting divine criminals. it was easy for him to get into, after all everything from his past life transferred over to this one, it wasn't long before he was hunting even the deadliest of criminals. while his mom was very supportive, it was still difficult for him to keep in contact with her as he did before moving out, and being a bounty hunter was hardly a sociable job. it wasn't long before Giota fell into depression, and then to drugs. for twenty three god years his life was an endless cycle of contract killing, payment, and wallowing in chemical joy. But at the end of all blinding lights, there is a welcoming darkness.

Giota had become the personal bounty hunter of the god of law and time: Ceerus. one day while leaving after receiving a contract, he met the god’s child, a boy his age named Dyalta.

It was thanks to Dyalta that Giota ever kicked drugs, or got out of depression, and thanks to Dyalta Giota managed to find happiness in anything other than a syringe.

Even the reason he found love.

rise to godhood

Giota became a god after an old god, named the Red slaughter, destroyed the entire universe. this was a catalyst for Giota, who had died previously, to return with his newly awakened god powers. I don't want to go into to much detail in this aspect as I intend to write it at some point.

_____________________

hey man you good yet? 

a little bit. Dyalta came by and gave me some cookies.

that's good buddy, I’m gonna describe your personality ok?

alright.. I’m gonna go home now.

alright man, take care.

_____________________

personality

do note that this is a bit hard for me to do. I’m more used to just writing a character. I’ll just post two short stories here to try and get his personality across. I made them in school last year.

ok so after looking at it the second one is twelve pages long. so I’m gonna post that elsewhere on here. to give context: this is after a wedding between Dyalta and Giota was interrupted. if you’d like to see more about him then feel free to interact or request him.

elavator story

Giota shifted uncomfortably to make room for his soon to be father in law as the man stepped into the lift.

“Soooooo…” Giota pressed their floor “wonderful, um, siege we’re having.”

Ceerus just keeps his eyes on the door “sure.”

“So how's the uh, wife?”

Ceerus sighed “locked in a tower, that we are invading.”

“Mhm, yup.”

‘Maybe I should try calling him dad.’

“So what did you think of my swordsmanship d-dad.”

Ceerus visibly restrained himself “it was fine ten- Giota.”

The elevator stopped, probably because of security.

“Oh maker damnit,” Ceerus tries rewinding the shut off, but it doesn't work “and it’s godproofed!”

“This reminds of this one time me and Dyalta wen-”

Ceerus put his hand to Giota’s mouth “if you end this story in anything less than fully clothed I will end your fake hide.”

Giota scratches his head nervously “Well I didn't, but Dyalta lost his shirt and well,” Giota notice Ceerus drawing his blade “b-but it was for a sword fi- wait bad wording, it was for a-you know- assasination thing!”

Ceerus sighed and sheathed his sword “look, you dusting mongrel, I don’t like you, you pretend to like me, let’s just try and not kill each other and maybe by the end of this, I won’t flay your ass at the altar.”

Well atleast now they both agreed on something: this was going to be a long crusade.

________________________________________________________________

ok that's that! not a very good character sheet but hopefully it got enough across to be interesting. I’ll end this off with some quotes I want him to say but have never gotten the chance to write out:

“hey Ceerus how’s the kid? oh thats right! in my bed, waiting patiently.” following Ceerus being exceptionally annoying.

“you know something? I try to be nice, I always smile, always banter with my targets. you know, try and be friendly. but then some RED MOTHERFUCKER, POSSESSES MY HUSBAND, WAKING ME UP FROM ETERNAL SLUMBER, AND NOW I ONCE AGAIN HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE GOD’S MESSES!”

*crying into Dyalta* “and then he said my clothes were stupid,” *sobbing* “I tried really hard on these!”

“this multiverse, to us gods, is wet paper mache. so easy to break, one wrong move and POP,” Giota flexes his finger and causes an ocean to split open for a solid ten seconds, “the very fabric of reality is gone. and you. you insuferable MOTHER FUCKERS have the AUDACITY TO COME IN HERE, AND TEAR IT ALL TO SHREDS! well assholes, if this reality is paper mache to you, and I’m stronger than you, take a wild gues as to what you are to me.”

(tagging: @storytravelled, @3lectro-heart, @genshin-obsessed)

#tw drugs #oc