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blackjackkent · 1 month

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Stopped for a long rest and got a chat with Gale:

He's humming to himself and examining his own "reflection" in a magically created replica. Rakha stands there for quite a while before he notices she's there.

"Be with you in a moment!"

"What are you doing?" Rakha asks, blunt and questioning as ever.

"Indulging in a spot of vanity," he answers cheerfully. "Handsome devil, aren't I?"

Rakha says nothing. She isn't sure if he's serious. She isn't sure she would notice if he was handsome. People are all a bit strange to her in general at present, and he is one of the stranger ones. And she is certainly not adept enough at conversation yet to offer an inane pleasantry in response.

So she waits in silence, and eventually he clears his throat awkwardly and dismisses the illusion. "Be that as it may..."

He turns to face her. "Ceremorphosis," he says, matching her usual matter-of-fact declarative tone. "What does it make you think of?"

That word again. By far the most elaborate of those she's managed to accumulate so far. It represents death. Failure. Consumption by the illithid hivemind.

"Until recently," she says, in a deadpan with the solidity of titanium, "nothing at all."

It is, astonishingly enough, a joke. Until recently, nothing meant anything at all; the world could have begun two days ago for all she knows. He squints at her for a moment before smiling ruefully.

"Ah yes. The good old days." He lounges back on his heels and begins to tick items off on his fingers. "Day one - fever and memory loss. Day two - hallucinations and greying skin. Day three - hair loss and blood leaking from all orifices. Need I go on?"

(A/N: This is honestly one of the things that I fucking love about liveblogging games like this, and specifically what I'm finding/remembering I love about doing so with the same game multiple times, which I haven't done since Dragon Age Inquisition. It can be really fun to listen even to lines like this, which are the same on any given playthrough, and interpret them through a completely different lens based on the particular OC in question.

With Hector, this line was comedic - fuck no, he did not want Gale to go on. He did not want to know the horrific and gruesome details of the transformation; he was having a hard enough time as it was!

But with Rakha this reads completely differently. This is how I've already established Rakha herself talks - short clipped sentences. Accumulation of facts. Bringing together of details into a picture. And Gale already knows that she wants as many of those details as she can possibly accumulate (and even, potentially, that the reason he is not dead is because he can provide them). This is him offering her exactly what she wants in the way she is best equipped to process it.

And she is all over it. She wants him to go on, absolutely.)

Nod.

"Day four - excruciating pain as the skeleton and organs reform and reposition. Day five - the host's personality has disappeared. Fingers toes and limbs elongate. I take it you get the picture?"

"I do. But you might as well finish the picture."

"Day six - the flesh around the mouth splits to make way for tentacles. Day seven - a mind flayer is born," he finishes with some dramatic relish. Spreading his hands as if to say, you see?, he watches, waiting for her interpretation.

Her eyebrows knit together thoughtfully. It's been two days, as of this evening's rest. She thinks back through what he has just told her. "We should be having a fever by now," she says curtly. "Greying skin even."

He smiles. It's an expression she can't quite interpret, but almost looks impressed, or proud, like a teacher with his student who has solved a difficult problem - and to her surprise, she feels oddly gratified to have answered correctly. "Exactly," he says, pointing a finger at her chest. "Our orifices remain blissfully unbloodied, our heads remain clear, and our blood temperature normal. Any expert will agree - this is abnormal."

She squints at him intently. "Can you explain why the symptoms aren't showing?" she demands.

His smile fades and he shakes his head. "That, alas, is where my knowledge fails me," he admits. "A rogue might call it luck, a priest might call it fate. As for myself, I'm a pragmatic; I see the silence before the storm."

She considers this in silence. Luck, fate... perhaps. Perhaps there is comfort at the idea that this is simply random, or the act of some unseen god.

But she doubts it. She sees neither luck nor fate nor storm. Her companions have all said that the worm is likely not the cause of her memory loss; therefore there was some other player involved, something that put her on that ship with no memory of herself. Something that has seen to it that the worm in her head is shackled, and that the beast has free reign.

That is not fate. That is orchestration. And there is yet someone out there who must pay.

Gale watches her thoughtfully, clearly trying to read what is going on behind her eyes. What conclusion he comes to is equally hidden, though; he just smiles again, unreadably this time. "Something to sleep on," he says. "We should get some rest."

She nods, turns away, trudges towards her bedroll. But she has little expectation of sleep. Not after last night. Not after the sea of nightmares and the litany in her head.

Blood... blood... blood... blood... blood.

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #well that was a surprisingly informative little moment #i can never tell which conversations are going to be the ones that hit me in the head with the characterization stick XD

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fduck0 · 4 months

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As someone who never stops thinking abt Wendy and Abigail, I've always seen Wendy's rework animation as less of a hallucination and more as a simple but effective rundown over Wendy's struggle with her grief through how she remembers Abigail's death. Most notably, I believe the last bit with the bush is either a slightly older memory stitched in or deliberate misremembering as a defense mechanism of sorts. My main reason for thinking this is partially cause yeah no that just didn't happen, but also because to me it makes the previous moments hit so much harder because of the harsh contrast between Wendy's attitude towards Abigail in the two scenes. In the previous, she's dismissive, and has to be dragged away from her books, and is clearly much more reluctant about doing things than Abigail. And in the next scene, Wendy is smiling, laughing, and playing with Abigail. This actually fits quite well with Wendy's dialogue too, but that's besides the point. And with the ending bit, I see it as a basic snap to reality from a deep daydream. Also, one detail I love is how Jack does look concerned for Wendy and briefly tries to reach for her before giving up, which just is soooo good like a big part of Wendy's hashtag issues was not just losing Abby, but also seemingly having very little support after that loss. In general, a lot of Wendy's messy and sometimes contradictory statements and actions are incredibly easily explained by the fact that she's a traumatized and grieving child who in no way has the tools to healthily cope with her emotions and very little support even outside of that. This is why Wendy makes me want to start biting things and why that's my favorite don't start animation 👍

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS THIS PERSON GETS IT.

Tbh while ive never thought ab Wendys animation like that, that is SUCH a good fucking take on it and tbh PRETTY GOD DAMN FITTING to wendys rapid change of emotions in the animation. and with this i have to say, YESSSS SOMEONE IS FINALLY POINTING OUT THE JACK THING.

I feel like a lot of Wendys fear of letting go of Abigail comes from this. Its like a god damn tragedy cycle. feel alone without Abigail- get no support from family- feel more alone and abandoned- cling to the fact Abigail WOULD have been the support and form an unhealthy coping mechanism around it- grow MORE dependent on her and restart. It is essentially what makes her SO god damn afraid and i feel like this quote from her forge vignette puts it best "Wendy clings fiercely to the grief over her sister's death, for fear that moving on would cause Abigail's memory to fade."

With the lack of support from her family and being "left behind", Wendy most probably feels to some extent she is the ONLY one trying to keep Abigail's memory alive. Abigail is the ONLY one she has ever had.

And with this last thing, another YES. A lot of Wendys contradictions can be boiled down to her conflicted and jumbled emotions as a child trying to cope and her fears getting the best of her. Wendy doesnt HATE colours, Wendy hates what memories those colours bring back and the cheerfulness she doesnt feel anymore. it is all a mockery to her grief, but there is STILL a part of her that longs for that part of her childhood back, which leads to a lot of the conflicted quotes as a kid who doesnt know what she wants anymore.

But yeah, we going off again bc WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH Wendy lore is both so cool and complicated and idk how to write down my opinions so they just come out in rambles but like YEAH Keese you are so fucking right

#dst #dst wendy #duck rambles #i need to like legit ramble ab Wendy more often on here because i haVE BEEN THINKING AB HER LORE FOR LIKE 6 YEARS ITS INSANEEEEEEE #i need to like reread hamlet but like i have some fucking words about how Wendy brings up Ophelia in multiple quotes and how her tragedy #mimics that of Abigails death in a way and how Wendy can be seen as Laertes

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 year

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Fic: Misty, chapter vii

Read on Ao3

Rating: Explicit (whole thing)

Fandom: Prospect

Pairing: Snowman!Ezra x f!reader (monsterfucker au)

Tags: it’s basically monster fucking but with a snowman which could technically be classified as a monster i guess?, gothic horror kind of, sorrow, dementia, anxiety, dog murder, masturbation, Frankie thirst, pet murder, racism mention, huge age gap, implied possible sexual abuse of minor, spookiness, PiV sex with an actual snowman, possible hallucinations, hypothermia, Frankie yearning, the spookiness continues.

Chapter warnings in addition to the above mentioned: More dog murder and implied sexual abuse of a minor, implied illegal abortion, adulterous kissing, lots of crying.

Summary: Escaping your empty apartment after having been dumped by your fiancé, you rent a cottage at Oakgrove House over Christmas to nurse your wounds. But strange things seem to happen at the estate, where an old woman wanders around in search of old friends long gone, and snowmen appear as if by themselves on the lawn…

Chapter word count: 2,079

Tagging: @harriedandharassedsed @paulalikestuff @pazizz @lovesbiggerthanpride (let me know if you want in)

Somehow, Olga manages to slip past her family on her way out of the house, but you get spotted by Denise as soon as you show yourself outside. She calls your name and waves you over, and you look around you to see where the old woman went, without seeing anything but the younger members of the family in the falling snow.

"Are you feeling better?" Denise asks you when you reach her.

"Much," you nod with a smile you hope does not look too forced. "Thank you again."

"Let me know if you need anything." Denise's eyes search your face. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Absolutely. Sorry for the trouble."

Denise dismisses the apology, and you excuse yourself, walking through the snow to the cottage. The snowman isn't there, just as it wasn't earlier this morning. Swallowing hard, you plain refuse to think about it, although it is the only thing you're thinking about. The snowman was there last night, you know it.

Frankie is in the cottage, putting more logs on the fire, rising up from the floor when you enter, a tentative look on his face.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," you sigh, lingering in the entry as you don't want to share the room with him.

"It's getting warm enough," Frankie says, gesturing to indicate the room. "I haven't cleaned the floors upstairs."

"It's not your job."

"No, my job is clearing the snow, and then get home to my family, that I haven't seen yet today, and it's Christmas," he replies curtly.

"Fine." You kick off your shoes and move away from the entry. "Thanks for your help, I'll take it from here."

Without a word, Frankie brushes past you, stopping only momentarily by the door to glance back at you. The next moment, the door clicks shut and you're alone.

Of course he'd want to get back to his family. Who wouldn't want to be with their loved ones for Christmas, instead of some crazy stranger in a chilled-out cottage?

You realize that you have not looked at your phone since yesterday, and that there probably are messages from your loved ones, but you can't remember where you put it. Moreover, you do not care. You tie your boots back on and go out.

The road leading away from the house and cottage has been cleared of snow, but as it narrows on its way towards the little lake, the drifts pile up. There are, however, traces in the snow before you, and you follow them, stepping in them and trying to gauge the size and age of the person who made them. Still, you know all along that it is Olga.

You stop when the barking of a small dog reaches you between the trees. Shortly after, you hear that chilling call of Snowflakeeee...! It's not until the sad cry is heard again that you realize that it's you who's calling out for a dog gone long before you were even born. Hot tears rise in your eyes and spill over your cheeks, quickly becoming cold trails that you wipe away with gloves wet from snow. You sniffle and trudge on through the snow until you reach the lake. The darkness has dispelled but the sky is gray and the world monochromatic, and you do not think you're safe until the ground cracks underneath your boots and one foot disappears into black, icy water. Panic wells up in you until you realize that the water only reaches your ankle. Backing a couple of steps, you get yourself on solid ground and take a deep breath.

"Watch it, girl."

The fright blooms up again as you turn around and see Olga standing behind you, eyes narrow as she scrutinizes you.

"Many people have drowned in this lake," she warns you. "So many, in fact, that my father wanted to have it drained. Oh, what stories would come into day..."

Your foot is aching from the chill of the water, but you barely feel it as you look at the older woman with uncertainty.

"Did you hear the dog?" you ask. You have to know if you were the only one who heard it. You have to know if you're going crazy.

"Oh yes," she dismisses you with obvious disinterest. "I heard it. Poor Snowflake. I hear him often, especially in the winter. He loved the snow."

Your heart is beating like crazy, and you wrap your arms around you as you follow Olga's gaze onto the ice in front of you.

"What... what happened to him?" you ask, not wanting to ask outright if it's true that Ezra drowned the dog, like Frankie had said. You don't want to put Frankie on the spot, make his employers think that he's gossiping. You're not even sure you want to know, but something is compelling you to ask.

"He drowned," Olga states with a deep sigh. "Right here. Late in the fall, when the first snow was falling. I can still remember the snowflakes disappearing in the dark water."

Your stomach turns with awful premonition and your jaw feels stuck, but you still manage to ask:

"You saw it?"

"I did it."

The confession is delivered in a deadpan voice but despite your shock, you can detect the years of processing in the three simple, fateful words. You stare at her, at the calm, lined face, the mild eyes, the harmless little sparrow body of an old lady who shouldn't even be capable of walking out here through the snow.

"Why?" you whisper.

"Because he asked me. He needed to know that he could trust me. We had secrets, you see, secrets that could compromise him if anyone were to find out."

You're afraid to ask, but Olga sees the question in your eyes.

"I needed a procedure, you see." Her voice lowers as she speaks the words that have been silenced for decades. "A procedure that was illegal at the time. No one could know, least of all my parents. Ezra helped me, but he had to be certain that I would not turn on him. Yes, I’m a killer, he said to me, But are you? I wanted to be worthy of his love and admiration. I wanted to be more than little Olga, sweet weak little Olga who picks flowers and reads poetry and will never do anything else in life. So, I drowned Snowflake, right here. And Ezra knew I could be trusted, and he helped me."

Your cheeks are wet and it's not just from the melting snow on them. Your eyes are stinging with the salt of your tears as you listen to the tragic story of a young girl that was taken advantage of by a much older man. It's disgusting and sad, and you just want to get away from this place, go back home to the city where there are people, lights, noises, and everyone carries a tragedy, but nobody ever knows because you will never know anybody that you pass by.

"What happened to you?" you sniff, your voice breaking. Olga cocks her head and regards you with infinite compassion.

"I survived."

With that, she simply turns around and walks back the same way both of you came. After she has disappeared between the trees, your legs give out underneath you, and you fall to your knees in the snow. The silent tears turn to ugly crying as you sob out your sadness for this awful world where summer and innocence seem to be long dead, and nothing is left but old age, regret, loneliness, and memories. You cry for Olga, but also for yourself, all your hopes and dreams that were shattered in one fell swoop when your fiancé came home and told you that he didn't love you anymore. You cry until you're shaking from cold and grief alike, and you cry some more for Snowflake who met such a grisly end at the hands of a young girl with stars in her eyes.

Eventually, you rise slowly, wipe your face with your gloves, and start to walk back on tired legs.

The yapping of a dog follows you, turns into whimpers, and then there is only silence.

The family is still out on the lawn when you return, the children screaming and laughing. From what you can see, they are building a snow fort, although the snow is too powdery for it. The hills of snow that Frankie has plowed together from the road, however, make for a good foundation. The children seem to have multiplied and you guess that Denise's sister has joined the holiday celebrations. Quickly making your way to the cottage, you run straight into Frankie and his shovel.

"Ow! Watch it!" you snap, trying to elbow your way past him and into the safety of the cottage. He takes hold of your upper arm, however, and stops you.

"Are you okay?"

You have been asked that question so many times today and every time you have been able to nod and say that of course you are okay. But not this time. Tears well up in your eyes again and before you know it, you're crying against Frankie's parka.

"Hey, hey, hey..." The shovel falls to the ground and Frankie's arms go around you, holding you loosely and a little awkwardly. The absurdity of the situation hits you and you take a step back.

"Sorry," you sniffle, hanging your head. "I didn't mean to."

"That's okay," Frankie offers, standing a little helplessly in front of you. You rub at your eyes and steel yourself so that you can meet his eyes. His eyes are warm and concerned, and you wish they were yours to look at all the time.

"I better go inside."

Frankie nods, and follows you, as if he wants to make sure that you're going to be safe on your own. You take off your shoes, one of them wet, and grunt in discomfort when your chilled, wet footsteps onto the floor.

"I stepped through the ice by the lake," you explain when Frankie looks at you with a little frown. He immediately sends you to the couch and produces a bucket from the little cupboard under the stairs. He pours warm water in it from the kitchen tap and takes it to you. Crouching by your feet, he gently removes your sock, rolls up the cuff of your leggings, and carefully lifts your foot into the bucket. You whine a little when the water, only hand-warm, seems searing around your chilled limb.

"Careful now," he tells you, softly rubbing your foot to make the blood flow. "I know it feels bad, but I think it'll be okay."

"You don't have to do this," you protest weakly. "Get home to your family."

"I don't like leaving people before I'm sure they're going to be okay."

His words make tears rise to your eyes again, and a sob cuts through your body.

"I'm sorry," you shake your head as you hide your face in your hands. "I'm a mess. I... my fiancé left me. Just before Christmas. That's why I'm here. To get away."

You hear Frankie sigh heavily, his hand stopping still on your foot.

"Damn. Sorry. That's rough."

Your throat is sore from crying, your eyes dry from all the salt. You draw a deep breath in an attempt to put yourself back together. When you finally remove your hands from your face, Frankie is bent over your foot, quietly massaging life back into it. You start to feel the nerves buzzing and zapping around in the warming flesh, causing your toes to wiggle.

"I think you're getting better," Frankie murmurs, looking up. The warmth in his eyes throws you completely and before you know it, you've leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. For a split second, it's like he's kissing you back, but that moment passes so quickly you're not sure it even existed.

"No." Frankie releases your foot and stands up, a knee joint cracking. "I have to go."

"Frankie, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too," he lets you know in a voice as cold as the snow outside as he strides across the floor to the front door. He leaves without any further words, and you kick the bucket, not caring about the warm water flowing out over the old floorboards and soaking into the rug.

You scream straight out.

#ezra x reader #ezra prospect #ezra au #prospect fanfic #my fic

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chloearit · 11 months

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// spoilers for Neon Genesis Evangelion I guess?

"Immobiler Schrotthaufen," the girl cursed as she entered the room. "Ich hab's Ihnen lebend zurück gebracht, wie Sie wollten."

She was rather short, with long red hair and bright blue eyes, and wore a skintight red bodysuit, over which she put on a jacket as she came in.

"Danke, Asuka," her captain replied.

Her eyes fell on the stranger sharing the room with them. "Wer ist das?"

"That's Dr. Walker."

"Hello, Miss..."

"Sōryū," she shook his hand. "Asuka Langley-Sōryū."

"What's that, Japanese? Aren't you German?"

"Yes."

"It's complicated-" her captain tried to interject.

"I'm a fictive."

"You're fictive? What, am I hallucinating now?"

She punched him in the face, hard.

"Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"

"Ow!"

"日本語？"

"No."

"¿Español?"

"I only speak English."

"Ignorant American."

"I'm sorry."

"Was sollen wir mit diesem Dickhead?"

The captain took a breath. "He's here to advise the project. Hopefully, he will be more useful than a hinderance."

The American regained his composure. "What am I here for?"

"Asuka is right, the current mechs we have are awfully immobile compared to the creatures they're fighting. A machine simply cannot be as light and agile as an organic lifeform, no matter how hard we try."

While the captain talked, Asuka signed at the scientist, who evidently did not understand this either.

"Could you stop that? You're gonna get your Eva."

"What are you getting at?" Dr. Walker asked.

"It was her idea. The mechs from her source are special. They aren't robots. They're grown, from the organic material of the creatures they're made to kill. Our hope is-," she brings up a picture of the defeated Kaiju, "that we can enhance this creature with cybernetics, take out it's brain and instead plug a driver into its nervous system. Or, failing that, take its material and grow a completely new creature that we can interface with."

"That's insane! You're insane. You're gonna fry her brain!"

"Magic is real and we are being attacked by extradimensional beings, Sir. All of this is insane. If you don't think you can do it I'm sure our scientists can find a way without you."

"I'll do it."

"I'd prefer if he didn't," Asuka walked up to him. She was a full foot shorter than him and still managed to intimidate him as she pressed a finger into his chest. "You think it'll fry my brain? You better make sure it doesn't. Cuz without me," she points to the door she came in through, "That thing out there is just expensive junk."

She doesn't wait for a response before she leaves the room.

Walker turns to the captain. "Why do you put up with that brat?"

"Don't be so dismissive, Doctor. She's the best of the best, and she is fully dedicated to this fight. The other countries are begging for a pilot with half her skill. You can call her crazy all you want, but I'd like to see you get up in that thing and put your life at risk to fight a being from another reality you barely understand and bring it in alive for studying. Nobody who does that is entirely sane. If you wanna prove me wrong, the training simulators are just down the hall."

The captain turned to follow after Asuka.

"Why do you even put people in there?"

"Because it works."

// by Silvy and Chloe

#fiction #microfiction #empty spaces #mecha #Evangelion #fictive #fictives #fictive rights #plurality #Chloe #Silvia #Asuka #Sōryū Asuka Langley #Asuka Langley-Sōryū #The Last Human Century

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whumptober · 4 years

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Whumptober 2020 - Updated

Welcome to Whumptober 2020! We’re doing things a little differently this year so please make sure to read the Event Info carefully. We are also excited to announce the addition of an AO3 Collection, which can be found here.

We hope you’re as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

No 1. LET'S HANG OUT SOMETIME Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging

No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY "Pick Who Dies" | Collars | Kidnapped

No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint

No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building

No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING? On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue

No 6. PLEASE.... "Get it Out" | No More | "Stop, please"

No 7. I'VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? "Don't Say Goodbye" | Abandoned | Isolation

No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD "Take Me Instead" | "Run!” | Ritual Sacrifice

No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood

No 11. PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying

No 12. I THINK I'VE BROKEN SOMETHING Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust

No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask

No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire

No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong

No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage

No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused

No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia

No 19. BROKEN HEARTS Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor's Guilt

No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE Lost | Field Medicine | Medieval

No 21. I DON'T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection

No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal

No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation

No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears

No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD... Migraine | Concussion | Blindness

No 27. OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage

No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. Accidents | Hunting Season | Mugged

No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest

No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury

No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE Experiment | Whipped | Left for Dead

Alternate Prompt List

Alt 1. Punctured

Alt 2. Falling

Alt 3. Comfort

Alt 4. Stitches

Alt 5. Stoic Whumpees

Alt 6. Altered States

Alt 7. Found Family

Alt 8. Adverse Reactions

Alt 9. Memory Loss

Alt 10. Nightmares

Alt 11. Presumed Dead

Alt. 12. Water

Alt. 13 Accidents

Alt. 14 Shot

Alt. 15 Carry/Support

Event Info

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 Official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don't have to include the exact wording into your work). Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, and photo/video/audio edits. Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2020 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruised, #stabbed, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)

#nsfw, #nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober2020 blog. They must be tagged in the order above.

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month.

Questions not addressed below can be directed to this blog as well.

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gif set or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)

Q. Do I have to do all 31 Days? Can I post early/late?

Participate as much or little as you like, and post whenever! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.11, #psych101). Combining prompts into one piece of work is okay, and posting late is as well so as long as it’s in October.

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Send us an ask! We’re happy to help clarify. That said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :)

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Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)

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Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. The archive can be accessed here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)

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If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters answering one or more of the prompts.

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Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like.

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Yes, but it only counts once

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Yes, but please do not use a specific prompt twice. We have also created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from [here].

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Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

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You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s.?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit

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No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?

Of course!

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What's whump?

See this post

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn't whumpy at all, does that count?

No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time”.

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tw at the end of the word, ex. emeto tw

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Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.

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Yes

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Yes but we mostly rely on the whumptober2020 tag

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There are no rules, just be sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies of whatever site you use).

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Here on Discord

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Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

#eventinfo2020 #whumptober2020 #whumptober #promptlist2020 #prompt list #FAQs #event info

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 3 years

Note

Hey, did you saw the film theory on Invader Zim on Membrane that Low-key makes sense

NO. IT. DOESN’T!

Okay, maybe this is my personal bias shining through, because I really don’t like Mattpatt sometimes... No. Okay, I have nothing against the guy personally. More frankly, I don’t like his fanbase or the way he structures his videos.

The way Mattpatt words and structures his videos acts like he’s the first person who thought of this idea, it’s the main contributor to why I stopped watching his videos a long time ago.

He speaks in a lot of rhetorics and strawman arguments rather than just saying what he wants to say. Like “If you don’t believe me... look no further then...” and that’s the one thing I ABSOLUTELY HATE on theory videos.

And some of Mattpatts own theories he doesn’t take seriously, but this is what you get when you base your INCOME off of youtube ad revenue and browse the reddit forums for new ideas. A completely monopolized way of theorizing. (and this is why there are several paragraphs in my current chapter of Tech Support of Zim’s Computer complaining about the concept of youtube entertainment in general.)

Sure, I don’t think Mattpatt will run out of theories... but I really hate the structure of his videos follows along strawman arguments, acting like he’s always arguing with an imaginary audience for entertainment value rather than just say what he wants to say.

That, and people will often cling to theories of someone with good editing software and a youtube channel then Their own opinions.

Something that I learned was incredibly dangerous to do. I learned my lesson with “That Guy with the Glasses dot com” and I don’t plan to act like I know something or am better than someone else cause I agree with someone who said something on youtube once.

I do watch Internet reviews and theory videos for entertainment, but that’s all they are to me. I don’t like to watch youtube videos to give me opinions on how I feel about things. And I seriously think a wide margin of his subscribers lack critical thinking skills at times, as well as a majority of the youtube audience, or from what I’ve seen in the comment section.

However, remember... These are just my thoughts on the matter... My thoughts are not law and I never claim them to be.

Like when I first joined the fandom and posed my GIR analysis questions... I even said:

“I don’t know if the fandom has talked about this in depth or not... I just got here... or if someone put it into this many words before but...”

Also... the thing that bothers me about his Invader Zim theory...

A lot of Mattpatt’s sources are just..... Wrong...

(for the next few minutes I will be talking about this video, feel free to watch or don’t)

Okay.. “Membrane is an Irken” this has been a popular fan theory since before I even entered the fandom and there are old fics about this. I have read Irken Membrane stories before.

It’s not personally my cup of tea, but it’s fun to think about.

But the straws Mattpatt grasps in his video.... Really upset me because there is some thought to the theory back in the day.. ... Like back in 2002??? but like.... NOW?!

Okay, I’ll pick apart this a little... bit by bit...

He says that Membrane takes a hard stance against anything paranormal.

Kinda... but no.. Membrane never outright denies the existence of aliens. (except in ETF... which he mainly says out of frustration...) This is what Membrane says about “there are no aliens” in the show:

Membrane just says that there are no “intelligent” aliens...None that are able to travel the massive distance to Earth, anyways... If aliens existed at all, (like the cryptoids Dib talks of) they would have traveled the distance to the planet and communicated with them by now.

However, this is a nitpick of a minor issue. One that a majority of the fandom tends to overlook when viewing Professor Membrane and Dib’s relationship in general.

And I do find it weird that he used this for evidence when he cut out the most important snippet from the full lecture he gives Dib here.... JUST to support his claim... as if he’s intentionally leaving that part out.... hmmmm

However, I can let this slide, because it’s a nitpick and really doesn’t change anything that Membrane is very dissuasive of Dib’s alien-hunting hobbies. (I have a theory as to why and I explain it here in my own way)

The point is, Membrane is dismissive of anything alien... maybe because he’s an Irken...okay, good, yes. fair.

A lot of Mattpatts claims from then on are pretty solid, and I won’t bunk them with “But in my headcanon/Fanfic verse...” Because what he is saying is all true.

Membrane denying the existence of aliens even after being taken to space jail doesn’t have much of an explanation and is played for comedy and there are many ways you can go with this, and I am not going to bring up my fanfics or my own headcanons to argue with him here.

Because there is no explanation, and he is going with the “Membrane is Irken” theory... So that’s very solid when he’s talking about Membrane denying the Hallucinations.

Mattpatt claimed that Membrane wore his face covering at all times and had been dressed this way since he was a child.

I will not deny this. This is true.

However, isn’t bringing up Membrane’s childhood kinda put a hole in your own argument?

MEMBRANE WAS A CHILD.

He had been shown to have childhood memories in the comics and the show.

Irkens don’t really have a “Childhood” per say, at least not in the way that humans do. They are a smeet, then elite, then Invader..

If he’s claiming that Membrane came to earth as an Irken SMEET....How, why, and when?

That kinda raises more questions than it answers.... What are you proving by bringing up Membrane’s baby pictures on Earth exactly? It kind of works against your own argument?

Saying that they’re Irken because they all have the same hair.... that’s just stupid... and he’s citing the Invader Zim wiki on this .... oh boy.

Yeah, Like before I watched the show I thought Dib and Disguised Zim were the same character or brothers...

But I don’t think character design here is a solid enough reason in this case... At least not when it comes to the hairstyles... That’s a stretch.

“Hmmm Membrane’s hair forms an M shape... What could the M stand for? Mirken?! SUSPICIOUS!” (this is just a joke)

Also... the lack of ears thing... He did say it would be hard for Membrane to hear if his headpiece was covering his ears, but not necessarily... The entire thing is a headset and he is the man of science, he can really do whatever the fuck he wants cause Science is like magic in a show like this. So if Membrane wears a headset that doesn’t obstruct his hearing at all, I can buy it... Also.. it’s equally possible his ears got blown off in a chem lab accident or he’s legally deaf and that headset acts as a hearing aide and HELPS him hear...

Actually, I always noticed how in Membrane’s original design from the show, the headset looked a lot like a hearing aid. Specifically one with a head clip, It’s one of the things I first noticed about his design in the show.

And it’s just something I always assumed because he’s a scientist who deals with explosions in his face on a daily basis... (in fact he experiences one in episode 2B) So on first viewing, I thought that his headset served as a hearing aid as well as prescription glasses and a communication device.

I’m just throwing out possibilities because the “lack of ears” is also kinda a stretch.

Mattpatt complaining about “lack of nose” however... Okay, yeah I’ll give him that one. It’s a character design choice that is a little odd for Professor Membrane, but it does fit with the Irken theory, since a majority of human characters, in fact, all have noses. So, Yes the “lack of nose” does fit more into the Irken theory.

However.... Florpus anime Membrane DOES have a nose...

Meant to be drawn in a more semi-realistic artsyle, you can clearly see the bridge of his nose here.

And he looks very similar to anime Dib... Sooooo... Shrug-city...

It’s likely that Membrane not having a nose in the show is simply a stylistic choice than anything else. Basically, the bridge of the nose is there... we just don’t see it.

Especially since Nightmare Membrane has a nose as well..

Membrane is like Home Improvement’s Wilson. We will never see his face, and that’s part of the gag. The man probably sleeps in his labcoat honestly...

I also find the voice pattern thing a bit of a stretch. Membrane and Zim are just eccentric characters who yell to emote or emphasize a point or emote stronger. And Membrane’s inflections are never the same as Zim’s.

Remember, no other Irken TALKS like Zim. Professor Membrane doesn’t really go around screaming: “I AM PROFESSOR MEMBRANE” either.....

If anything... it just kinda proves both characters have auditory processing issues or hearing problems more then anything.

And there is a lot of screaming on this show.... Screaming from Dib, screaming from Membrane, Screaming from GIR, screaming from Zim... Screaming is funny... and characters scream so much that the characters with their mouths wide open is somewhat a staple of the show.

This is more because of Johnen Vasquez’s voice direction...

Especially since no other Irken really talks like Zim..

Zim’s manor of Speach is strictly a Zim thing and not an Irken thing.

Professor Membrane’s manner of speech is simply a Membrane thing and not a human thing.

I will give Mattpatt that. That a lot of tech in the show looks similar to Membrane’s. I feel this is mostly a stylistic choice, but it really does fit in with the Irken theory.

Like that Zim just so happens to use the same operating system as Dib is played off as a joke. But it does add some small credence to the theory here... I need to point out when he does get it right... some pats on the back.

These are very good points and does follow through with what he’s trying to prove by the end of the day.

(even if Membrane was lying about the destruction of all mankind with the beans thing, but that’s a minor nitpick here)

But his entire paragraph comparing Membrane’s tech to Irken tech is a really good one. Props there.

This whole paragraph about there being only Tall or short irkens cause their society is height based and there are no “medium-sized” irkens....cause they were “dealt with”

Okay.

....

Sure Mattpatt. Let’s just entirely ignore the existence of the Frylord and this entire character even though you mentioned it in the synopsis at the start of your video... Showing that Taller irkens are in positions of power against the shorter, also... Zim is a tiny irken... there are many Irkens that stand taller then Zim.

Being tall in Irken society is a rarity, and Almighty Tallest Purple said that he and Red “became” the Tallest. How? We don’t know, but we do know at one point the current Tallest looked like this:

How do Irkens get that Tall? Body modifications? Maybe... it’s never explained, but considering the Frylord is super big and probably eats a lot of snacks might have something to do with it. We don’t know.

It’s safe to say that being Tall in their society is a rarity and Tallests are either born or made special from the cloning chamber from the get go.

Not to mention, Membrane is Taller than the current Tallest are already...

and you said earlier in the video that Membrane would have gone to Earth as a child...

When he was no taller than a wrapped Christmas box of socks...

So why would Membrane take refuge on Earth at this point? Mattpatt says that Membrane was sent on a mission to Earth because the Tallest felt threatened by his rule...

BY MEMBRANE’S RULE?!?

HE’S THE SIZE OF A CHRISTMAS BOX OF SOCKS!

What do they have to be threatened by?

Because... Mattpatt DID bring up Membrane as a child earlier in the video... meaning Membrane came to earth when he was about the same size as Zim.

SO THEY HAD NOTHING TO BE WORRIED ABOUT AND HAD NO EVIDENCE TO BELIEVE MEMBRANE WOULD GROW TO BE TALL ORE EVEN VIEW HIM AS A THREAT

You bunked your own argument. Congradulations.

Membrane conquered the world through his inventions. In a way, sure. Membrane Labs does own a lot of stuff. But he doesn’t own everything. A majority of the Corporations that keep the population stupid usually don’t have anything to do with Membrane Labs and aren’t affiliated at all.

But this does fit into the “Membrane is an Irken” theory so I will give him that one.

However, Membrane being an evil corporate dictator is a hot take I never really appreciate at all and I can never get behind it.

It hits too close to home in the real world, and I always like to view Membrane as a self-made man and a World loving hippie at his core who just wants to make the world a better place, much like his son, but he actively does something about it. (which can also be why he encourages Dib with real science so much cause he knows Dib wants to save the Earth as much as he does)

Just calling Membrane a capitalist billionaire that doesn’t care about the little guy kinda seems disingenuous towards his character for me.

Especially when Membrane in “Ten Minutes to Doom” created a machine (foodio) that completely end world hunger... which was in BETA in the unreleased episode...

but by the time the movie rolls around... Foodio exists... past his BETA, meaning that he’s probably no expensive than a common household microwave and can materialize food from nothing:

Yeah. Membrane completely ended world hunger off-screen. thanks. (something no capitalist would ever do...)

Membrane also does appearances for charity (in the comics), and often takes funding for sponsorships when he is low on funds and he had to find a cure for pig mouth.

Sure “Membrane conquered the world” fits the Irken theory...

But I never appreciate that take on his character and that is admittedly, very personal bais.

I just wanted to say my peace a little bit here about how I 100% don’t vibe with the “Membrane capitalist/billionaire scum” especially since he ended world hunger...and invented a cure for the un-common cold.

Works for the theory, so good on Mattpatt for that one, but I personally don’t vibe with it.

Mattpatt compared Zim and Dib’s head shape as something to argue... Like because Dib has a similar head shape to Zim... that Dib has to be an alien... Okay... But If you look at the Invader Zim artbook (which I own)

The show has a very distinct look on how they draw characters’ heads. It’s a very distinct stylistic choice and there are pages upon pages in the artbook describing the style and how it looks in motion, and many revision notes to the Korean animators.

There are lots of pages on the artbook describing in detail the differences between the main characters’ heads, what to do, and what not to do.

It’s a difficult style to replicate, and Dib having a big head was mostly a joke from the showrunners to the showrunners, cause they kept drawing Dib’s head slightly bigger to make him look more appealing.

A majority of the audience doesn’t really notice because all the children in the show have big heads. All the kids are like 3-4 feet tall and have huge heads.

Also... Dib’s head is far more rounder then Zim’s in the comics and the Movie... comparing their head shape as an arguing point, when Dib’s head shape changed midway season 1 when the designs got slightly more streamlined is just... bad form..

Dib and Zim’s heads never really look the same from the early episodes as they do later on.

Comparing this character design similarity just because of the artstyle is really stupid.

This is the most infuriating thing about the video... because Mattpatt disproves his own argument with his own footage not a few seconds earlier.

He claims that Gaz sarcastically mentioning she has a squeedly spooch is a canon fact...... but ... hmm.. Mattpatt... can I rewind the footage of your video, please?

Where’s her squeedly spooch?

IS IT BEHIND HER CLEARLY HUMAN ORGANS?! I DON’T SEE IT?

And this isn’t just a stylistic choice... here’s a picture of another human’s organs for comparison.

Mattpatt literally disproved his own argument and ignored the fact that we saw an X-ray of Gaz’s organs in the very same episode...

Gaz doesn’t have a squeedly spooch and she literally was being sarcastic.

and the whole thing is disproved very easily.

Everything Mattpatt says in between those two points, about Dib being taken aboard an alien ship as a baby, and that there is no mother, and the Clone theory... That is all good stuff and this is what the theory video should have speculated and focused on, because there is some digging to be had here... I feel he focused a lot on the wrong points in his video...

And this is the most outrageous point he makes in his video. It’s the thing that pissed me off the most... and lead me to write this essay in the first place.

He claimed Eric Trueheart himself confirmed the clone theory and had story plans where Dib would discover his clone origins.

HE DID NOT!

IN FACT, Eric Trueheart himself published Volume One of the Invader Zim script book AND THIS IS WHAT HE SAID:

Eric neither confirmed nor denied the rumor.

But for Mattpatt to blatantly say that Eric said that Clone Dib was a planned thing by the screenwriters?!

He is BLATANTLY putting words into a Screenwriter’s mouth! Something that you should NEVER do.

Because it is 100% a lie.

He had no source for this claim. He probably just read the same rumor on the wiki and has no source.

This is the reason why I don’t trust videos like Mattpatt. The truth is often stretched for entertainment value, or information is just made up to prove “they were right” about whatever the topic of the day was. He doesn’t even bother to cite the source he got “Eric Trueheart’s word of mouth” from... because it was wrong.

Sorry if this whole thing is more hostile than it intended to be... But Mattpatt was looking at the ENTIRELY wrong evidence for this show....

Irken Membrane is a fun theory... but Mattpatt picked the entirely wrong topics and points of discussion, even to the point of hiding the truth and straight-up lying to his audience about his sources.

It’s kinda like saying “Birds eat ghost peppers because they’re part dragon and dragons can handle spicy food”

While, yeah, Birds are descended from dinos, it’s kinda missing the full story there and it’s not the reason why birds can eat spicy food.

Irken Membrane is a fun fan theory... do what you want with it. I am not here to dissuade Irken Membrane headcanons...

I’m just here to encourage critical thinking, and perhaps NOT put words into content creators' mouths when there is no credible source for it just because it benefits your argument.

#Invader Zim #Film Theory #Mattpatt #danachan's rants #lol sorry i went off but he really needed to cite his sources more on this one

268 notes · View notes

littlemisspascal · 3 years

Text

Death and an Angel part 8

Helmetless + Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: “You have become the only one in the universe who can claim to uniquely know him.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,002

Warnings: fluffy fluff, some plot, swearing, reunions, soft!Din, Kuiil thinks Cupid is a fool, Kuiil’s backstory from canon, surprisingly little angst (it shocked me too)

Author Note: I want to apologize to those on the tag list not getting notified. I have no idea why Tumblr isn’t cooperating and I feel horrible about it. I love each and every one of you who spares time to read this segment/series and I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season.

Links to Part 1 and Part 7 and Part 9

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

The next morning you find Kuiil outside welding together two pieces of metal at his workbench. IG-11 tends to the small herd of blurrg the Ugnaught keeps in a large pen, feeding the two-legged creatures their breakfast. Although you were initially wary, the former assassin droid has been nothing but kind to you, if not a little obsessive about checking the bandage on your head every few hours.

“IG was explicitly warned by Death what would happen if your health declined in his absence,” Kuiil had informed you the previous evening when your attempt to stop the droid’s incessant fretting failed.

“He’s such a worrywart,” you muttered as IG-11 scanned your temperature, heart skipping a beat as it always does when you think about Din’s protective nature. There’s something unbelievably attractive about him making threats when it came to your wellbeing.

“A worrywart who left his gunship in my yard.” Kuiil aimed a sharp look towards the entrance of his home, as if he could see the Razor Crest from this distance.

You snorted a laugh at him calling Arvala-7’s desert landscape a yard of all designations, only for the rest of his sentence to register a beat later, making your eyebrows rise to your hairline. ��Wait, what? He seriously left the Crest here? Why would he do that?”

“The quicker his trip to Nevarro, the quicker he returns to your side,” was the response, accompanied with a shrewd look implying you were a fool for asking such a question.

Your Ugnaught host reminds you of a grandfather figure; a bit prickly and blunt at times, but ultimately kindhearted and selfless at his core, wanting only what’s best for those in his care. Between his insistence you keep resting in his bed and IG-11’s nurse programming, you no longer wonder why Din chose to leave you with them, thoroughly convinced you’re receiving better around-the-clock care than most people experience in medcenters.

Kuiil turns when you approach him, pushing his goggles back to the top of his cap as he clicks off the welding torch, eyes giving you a cursory once-over. You feel better than you had yesterday, both headache and dizziness gone, and he must sense that since his head dips in a firm nod, satisfied with what he sees.

“Good morning,” you greet, smiling.

“Morning,” he replies. His expression turns repentant, eyebrows lowering. “My apologies for waking you, but I could not let these repairs remain unfinished.”

“It’s okay.” You tilt your head up towards the sky, enjoying the warmth of the early sunshine after spending the entire previous day cooped inside his home. “I’m supposed to report back to headquarters later today, so I needed to be up anyways.”

Hearing the words out loud grounds the upcoming meeting in reality. It’s really happening. Hours from now, you're going to have to tell your bosses everything, now including your new title as Din’s soulmate. Maker, you can just imagine Hess staring you down with those beady, rat-like eyes of his, asking question after question about you and Din.

And if Hess was serious before on the comlink—and you highly doubt the bastard’s ever told a joke in his life—then there is also the very real prospect of Moff Gideon being there to take part in your interrogation.

“Are you alright?” Kuiil asks, noticing how pale you’ve become. Without waiting for an answer, he ushers you over to a nearby stool. You sit, mouth opening to reassure him you’re fine, only to be startled by the knowing glint in his eyes. “I recognize your anxious face from my years as an indentured servant. You fear punishment from your superiors.”

Your eyes widen, stomach suddenly feeling hollow. “You were a servant?”

“From my birth until my hundredth year, yes.” The nauseous feeling intensifies. You knew Ugnaughts typically lived up to two-hundred years, meaning Kuiil had lived half of his lifetime in servitude. “Earning my freedom did not occur without harsh discipline.”

You draw in a shaky breath at that. It feels wrong, being worried about meeting with your bosses when there are others, such as Kuiil, who have endured far worse horrors.

“Those with power think it comes from weapons and control over others through means of fear and violence,” he continues, returning the welding torch to its proper placement in his toolbox. “True power comes from the strength of one’s hope. It allows you to believe in a better future for yourself and so long as you cling to it, no enemy can break your spirit.”

His rumbling baritone washes over you, calming the worst of your worries. You press your thumb against your soulmate marking, a nervous habit that has developed since you first saw it yesterday. You’ve become addicted to the warmth the mark emanates as it reassures you you’re not hallucinating its appearance.

“I just keep thinking about what their reactions are going to be when I tell them about me and him being together,” you confess, feeling shy as you duck your chin to avoid eye contact.

“Are you embarrassed of Death being your soulmate?”

Your head snaps back up, shocked by his bluntness. “What? No. Din means everything to me.”

The words seem too loud against the quiet atmosphere of the planet. They reverberate off seemingly every surface—the desert rocks, the Razor Crest’s steel paneling and the metal roof on Kuiil’s home—echoing for miles in every direction. Despite knowing that isn’t truly possible, you are unable to stop yourself from wincing.

“You gave Death a name?” Kuiil’s bafflement is visible in the way his head tilts, looking at you in a way that is reminiscent of Omera’s puzzled expression back on Sorgan.

"I didn’t.” You shake your head, for some reason feeling the need to clarify, “He named himself. It’s just something for me to call him when we’re around mortals.”

“I have known Death many decades now,” he begins, sounding no less confused despite your explanation. “He’s quite...particular about the mortal traditions he chooses to adopt, such as appearing as a human male and piloting a gunship.”

“Yeah, I know how picky he can be,” you say slowly, not understanding what his point is.

“Not once has he ever felt compelled to use a mortal name because, in his opinion, names establish ties."

“What does that mean?”

“Without a name, he is but another stranger amongst trillions of beings, unrecognized and unmissed,” Kuiil explains, and you find yourself leaning forward, elbows on your knees. “By giving you a name to call him by, he has tied himself to you in a way he has not permitted anyone else. You have become the only one in the universe who can claim you uniquely know him.”

“Huh.” You let out a long exhale, suddenly aware of your heartbeat pounding deafeningly in your eardrums as it begins to sink in just how monumental the gift of Din’s name truly is. “Well how bout that.”

And the shrewd look from last night makes a reappearance, conveying once again how foolish he thinks you are.

“I have spoken.”

People tend to forget a Cupid’s bow is first and foremost a weapon of defense. Comprised of wood from a Brylark tree, sinew from orbaks, and a thin layer of a mudhorn’s horn, it can be compared to Din’s armor in that it is virtually indestructible. A Cupid carries two types of arrows: one made from kyber crystal meant to lighten one’s emotions or, on rare occasions, induce lust, and the other one made from a kyber crystal coated in ichor, meant to inflict harm against enemies. Once a target is hit, the effects are instantaneous and the arrow vanishes in a burst of sparkling light, regenerating in your quiver seconds later.

You underwent rigorous training to learn how to become a master of archery. Your bow is bound to your Cupid abilities, capable of being summoned to your aid and dismissed with a mere thought. You were taught how to control your breathing, learning that the expanding and contracting of your chest cavity during a shot can ruin your aim. Missing a target is one of the worst mistakes a Cupid can commit, meaning you must make every single shot count.

All that to say, Cupids are fierce archers as much as they are dedicated matchmakers.

They are also dangerous when startled unexpectedly.

You’re in the middle of tidying up Kuiil’s tiny kitchen space, a task you had insisted upon after he’d served you a delicious lunch, humming to yourself quietly as you scrub at the dishes when hands wrap around your waist, pulling you backwards towards someone’s chest.

You react completely on instinct, teleporting out of their hold and reappearing on the other side of the room, bow ready with an ichor arrow aimed directly at the assailant. It is only when the meager light of the nearby lantern reflects off their beskar helmet do you realize who you’re facing.

Immediately you lower and dismiss your weapon before pressing a hand over your chest where your heart is fluttering like a trapped bird. “I’m so sorry, Din,” you tell him, limbs trembling as it sinks in just how close you were to shooting him. “Maker, you scared me and—and I thought I—well, I don’t know what I was thinking, just that I had to—”

In between blinks he appears in front of you, yanking his helmet off with such ferocity your words catch in your throat. You have only the slightest of seconds to glimpse the arousal darkening his brown eyes before he slips a hand behind your neck and crashes your lips together.

He kisses you as if you’re gravity and he’ll float away if he dares to spare a moment to breathe, sending a current of warmth surging through your body. You thought the mere touch of his hand had been life-altering, but it is a mere candle compared to the wildfire his lips spark. Your eyes fall shut as you kiss back with an equal amount of fervency, bringing him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck, grinning at the groan the action spurs from deep within his chest.

There is the heavy thud of his helmet striking the ground before he’s wrapping his hand around your waist, slotting a thigh between your legs to ensure every inch of your bodies are touching. Your cheeks rub against the scratchiness of his facial scruff, an invigorating burn you think you could easily become addicted to.

An embarrassingly high-pitched whine escapes your lips when he pulls away a minute later. He’s never looked more attractive, mouth swollen and hair disarrayed from your roaming fingers. His hands cup your face, and it occurs to you as he swipes his thumbs over your cheekbones he isn’t wearing his gloves.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, sounding slightly hoarser than usual and out of breath. His gaze roams your face, like he’s trying to re-familiarize himself with your features after the time spent apart. “Especially with your bow. When you pointed that arrow at me, there was this...fierceness in your eyes I’ve never seen before. Fuck, angel, you looked so gorgeous.”

“Seriously?” you say, raising an incredulous eyebrow, because of-kriffing-course he’d be the one being in the whole universe who is turned on by a weapon being pointed at him.

“Seriously.” He leans in, forehead pressing against yours, noses brushing. It’s hard to focus when he’s this close, like you’ve again entered that separate realm where it’s just you and him.

“Din, look,” you whisper, fighting the magnetic pull insisting you kiss him again long enough to show him your marked hand. “It’s real. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

The smile that stretches across his face when he sees it is nothing short of breathtaking.

“Angel,” he says, tilting your head so the words are spoken right against your lips. “I’ve wanted to hear you say those words ever since I gave you my name.”

Tag List: @leilei-draws, @theocatkov, @vintagesaph, @stardust-and-starlight, @adrieunor, @remmyswritings, @gallowsjoker, @rhiannon-russo, @randomness501, @sylphene, @softly-sad, @maytheglitter, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @eleinemk, @captain-jebi, @aerynwrites, @promiscuoussatan, @stilllivindue2spite, @coaaster, @lin-djarin, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

#death and an angel #my fic #Din Djarin #din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #soulmate au #my writing

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding Part Three: SW Time Travel AU #27

Part One

Part Two

Obi Wan woke with a dry mouth and a moderate headache. A fairly typical morning these days.

He peered around his bedroom in the temple confused. Wasn’t he just with Cody? Shouldn’t he be on the Negotiator? No wait, the war was over, Cody tried to kill him, and the Negotiator was a part of the Imperial Armada, of course he wouldn’t be there. He closed his eyes, snuggling back under the covers. Before he could drift back to sleep, his sluggish mind processed that last thought.

He BOLTED upright in bed. The temple had been razed, his personal chambers scorched with particular thoroughness. Just being on Coruscant was an automatic death sentence. Faint tendrils of panic began to curl around his throat before he remembered his decision to give Spice a try. He had reasoned that he should probably find at least one pleasure in his new life, instead of focusing incessantly on what was lost.

So what if he lost a few brain cells? Good riddance.

Obi-Wan had been a bit nervous, but this had ended up being his best decision in years. His goodbye to Cody had been painful, but deeply cathartic. Spice Hallucination Anakin didn’t scream like Nightmare Anakin, and the color of his eyes was perfect. Far better final memories to cling to than reality- a reminder of the good times. Comforted, he relaxed backwards in bed, pulling his blankets back around him.

He LURCHED out of bed, covers tossed aside, movement a blur.

He was still hallucinating?!? Spice shouldn’t last in the system this long! He might’ve been uncertain about whether he was supposed to smoke or snort the substance but it was a well known fact that its exhaustive but rapid passage through the body was half what made it so addictive. If nothing else, his well-restedness and thirst indicated it had been at least six hours. He looked frantically around the room, searching for some thread of unreality to pull at.

This...was not good. Hadn’t the subconscious manifestations of his friends mentioned drugs that interacted poorly with force users last night? He had dismissed it at the time but...

He clearly was stuck in some sort of drugged fantasy combined with force-enhanced memory recall. Kriff, he had to wake up in the real world before he died of an aneurysm. Or just dehydration.

He sat on the ‘temple floor’ to meditate. This could be tricky as he couldn’t risk lowering his outer shields to reach out to reality. It would be deeply embarrassing as well as horrifying if the Emperor managed to find him and, by extension, Luke because he got stuck in a bad spice trip.

The door to his room clicked open quietly.

“Oh! You’re awake. Sorry to come in without knocking, Master. I wanted to let you sleep, but I’ve been checking on you every two hours to make sure you were still, you know, breathing. You were...pretty out of it last night and I would be a pretty bad ‘best friend in the whole galaxy’ if I let you choke on your own vomit, right?” His blue-eyed Padawan explained with a grin.

Obi-Wan just stared. Oh this- this hurt. It was easier last night, when the whole fantasy had a kind of drunken blurriness. Sleeping and waking had brought sober clarity to the dream world. He could see the bags under Anakin’s eyes as well as the sheepish slouch of his shoulders as he instinctively ducked at the door frame. It was just so real.

“Obi-Wan? Are you feeling ok? Do you still feel drunk?” Anakin asked concerned.

Obi-Wan shook his head. He hesitated, before deciding to just go along with the interaction. He didn’t want to risk his subconscious throwing a less idylic scene at him by pretending to ignore this one. And besides, last night had been, all totaled, a huge relief- an unburdening of things left unsaid. This was probably the closest thing to therapy available to him these days, he might as well take advantage.

“I’m just...processing. Not to mention dealing with some mild dehydration.” He finally answered.

“Processing, huh? So does that mean you, uh, remember last night?” Anakin asked nervously.

“I do.” Obi-Wan smiled gently. As heart-wrenching as this was, it was also adorably sweet. Maybe it was worth it to push off waking for a little while. He could get some closure, maybe even work through some of the past to see where the two of them had gone wrong. It might even be helpful for Luke! Force willing, he would probably end up training Anakin’s son someday.

(the boy wouldn’t have many masters to choose from)

If this dream world could help him figure out specifically how he had failed as a Master, then he owed it to the galaxy to see it through. Satisfied, he resolved to let the fantasy play out. At least for a few more more hours. And...he had missed what Anakin had said. Wonderful start.

“I’m very sorry, Anakin would you mind repeating that? I was still a little distracted, but I promise, I’m focused on you now.”

Anakin shuffled nervously. “It’s nothing.”

Obi-Wan tried to project reassurance without actually projecting. “Please Anakin, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I know I wasn’t the most observant or approachable Master, and I’m sorry for that. But I have always cared about your thoughts and feelings.” It was a struggle and the words caught in his throat, but the raw burn of the apology was cleansing in an almost addictive way.

Anakin flushed. “Did you mean everything you said?” he asked nervously.

“I’d...rather not talk about seeing the destruction of the temple, seeing you... Maybe later...but please, I just don’t want to focus on it while I’m sitting here, looking at you,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

“That actually wasn’t what I was talking about,” Anakin responded quickly. “I mean, I do want to help you with that at some point, but I get not wanting to talk about visions, even if you should probably should. Of course if you do want to talk about that stuff, that’s more important, but since you don’t we can talk about the other stuff you mentioned. I was more referring to, you know, us, and what you said about our friendship?” his voice got progressively higher the longer he rambled.

Obi-Wan thought back. “Well some of it is a little hazy, but overall yes. I...for a very long time I’ve considered you my best friend, and its not so easy for me to let go of my affections. I miss spending time with you; there are times I turn to say something and am still shocked you’re not there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, with real words, how much I cared. I’m sorry I didn’t hug you as much as I wanted, looking back that was a nonsensical Jedi custom. It’s not in the code; it’s just an affectation of dignity. All things considered, the fact that you often snuck out to see Padme doesn’t really bother me.” He paused. “Was that everything?”

“Oh. Yeah, that pretty much covered everything.” Anakin looked embarrassed, but happy. “I wasn’t sure if you were just saying that stuff because you were drugged, or really drunk or something.”

“No, I meant what I said. I suppose it just took an altered state for me to relax enough to actually say it instead of just thinking at you and assuming you would know. I must admit, its difficult for me to maintain this emotional honesty without feeling drunk, but it’s good. This is good.”

“Ah, that’s... wow. So you weren’t drugged? Cody was concerned you seemed to off for much you actually drank.”

Obi-Wan frowned. Hadn’t that been a trip? Vision blurring from desert hovel to some nameless Catina he once visited with Cody. The continuity since then was almost unsettling. But, then again, Obi-Wan always did have a remarkable talent for self-delusion, didn’t he. He waved away the concerns.

“My substance consumption was entirely deliberate and exactly what I needed. There might have been some unknown additions with some unforeseen after-affects, but like I said- I’m not drunk. I’m clear minded and in full control right now and I knowingly accept the current fallout from whatever I took. I could meditate and force purge to completely recenter, but I think it would be far wiser to just see where this goes. Do you disagree, Anakin?”

Anakin grinned widely. “Whatever you say, Obi-Wan. Just remember this is your idea. Also, I’m taking you to the healers tonight if you’re not completely back to yourself.”

Obi-Wan signed, “If I’m not back to myself in 12 hours, than I fully agree that’s a problem worthy of the halls of healing.”

“Right,” Anakin nodded decisively, “I’ll go get you some water then comm Cody to tell him you’re still alive.

Obi-Wan smiled weakly in response. This wasn’t just a hashed up memory; the responsiveness was more that. He quickly got dressed, hands lingering over soft fabrics and sand-free linens.

Anakin dropped off a cup of water; Obi-Wan sipped at it hesitantly. Dear force, this was dangerously vivid. It actually felt like a relief in his parched mouth. Clearly his subconscious was pulling out all the stops to trap him in this soft delusion. He would have to deal with the thirst and hunger until he woke up- it was probably the firmest link he had to his real body.

He took one last look around before rushing out of his room, eager to take advantage of the time.

Anakin looked nervously up from the comm when Obi-Wan started pulling his boots on. “You’re not going out in the temple like this, are you?”

“Of course! I want to visit the gardens and the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Not to mention spend some time with a few of the other Jedi. You might still be the dearest being in my heart, but there were other Jedi that I care for, and dammit I’m going to tell them that.” He finally finished lacing up his left leg and moved to the right.

Anakin was dumbstruck, presumably as burnt by the ‘dearest being’ comment as Obi-Wan was. Then he rallied, “Wow, wow, No. You are not running around the temple drugged so you can, I don’t know, give Mace Windu a hug. I thought when you said you were going to ‘deal with the fallout' from whatever the kriff you’re still on, you meant you were going to lounge around the quarters all day!”

His former padawan physically blocked the door when Obi-Wan started to leave, sounding vaguely hysterical, “You can’t run around loopy! You’re a High Council Member!”

“Not anymore,” Obi-Wan replied bitterly.

“What do you mean not anymore,” Anakin said fiercely, grabbing on to his shoulders . “Did they kick you out? Is that why you’re acting crazy? Did you resign?”

Obi-Wan responded by pulling Anakin into a hug, which was immediately returned, “Of course not, don’t be absurd. Fine, I suppose I’m technically still a high council member, it just seems like a bit of a moot point.”

“What the kark does that mean? You used to dream about being on the council! You’re the wisest Master in any of those stupid chairs!”

‘Master of the High Council’ Kenobi just sighed heavily in response. He maneuvered around the confused errant Knight and into the hall.

"Obi-Wan wait! At least eat something first! Or let me put my shoes on!”

“Very well, you have one minute to make yourself presentable. I only have a few hours before I’m going to need to get back to reality, and the longer I linger the more I fear extreme measures may be necessary.”

“What does that mean?” Anakin shouted from inside. “Extreme measures sounds really ominous, you know.”

“I’d rather not get into it, alright? Let’s just enjoy the here-and-now, eh, ad’ika?

Anakin crashed out the door with less than a second to spare. “What did you just call me?"

“Ad’ika,” Obi-Wan answered, striding down the hallway in the direction of the hanging gardens. “Surely you must have picked up some Mando’a from the troopers?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if I heard you right, bu- um- ori'vod,” Anakin fumbled out. “Uh, you’re not going to call me that in front of anyone else, right? You do remember that the council already gives us the side eye for over-attachment right?”

Obi-Wan hummed thought fully in responded. “There are far worse things a Jedi could do than admit to affection they already feel. Maybe if I had been honest about my attachments, they wouldn’t have ended the way that...” he trailed off quietly.

“The way that what,” Anakin asked frustrated. “You’re really giving me some emotional whiplash over here, and I’m starting to think that putting off dragging you to the healers is a stupid idea.

“There are far stupider things a Jedi could do,” he responded cheerily. “Oh look, there’s Plo Koon. MASTER KOON!” He shouted, startling the Kel Doran Jedi.

“Yes, Master Kenobi?” He replied slightly concerned as the two human Jedi came jogging over.

“I just wanted to say that I consider my former padawan my family. I raised him, I care for him deeply, and I don’t want to let go of those feelings.”

Plo Koon nodded seriously in response. “I feel just the same about my former padawans, and the Wolffe pack, of course. Denying my attachments isn’t, personally, a practical way to handle them. I’d rather honestly live as an imperfect Jedi than pretend to be a perfect example of the code. If I must have some imbalance, I’d rather it be an excess of compassion than a dearth,” he replied earnestly.

“I always admired that about you,” Obi-Wan replied ruefully. “This might be a little odd, but could I have a hug? I hold you in the highest regard and I’ve realized that there are so many Jedi that I never directly expressed my affection for and...”

Plo Koon didn’t wait for Obi-Wan to finish before wrapping his arms around him. “Of course, dear boy. You’ve had such heavy burdens placed on your shoulders during your life, especially in the last few years; it saddens me to see how deeply they’ve weighed you down. If there’s anything I can do to help, in any way, you simply have to ask.”

Obi-Wan sniffled slightly into Plo’s Shoulder while Plo rubbed soothing circles over his back.

A few passing Jedi gave the embracing Masters uncomfortable looks before hurrying on their way. Anakin stood slack-jawed.

When they finally pulled back, Plo Koon hesitated before finally asking, “I don’t mean to pry, but what brought all this on? I can sense much grief from you, even through your impressive shields.”

“It’s a long story,” Obi-Wan replied, wiping at the corner of his eyes. “I’d rather not get into it.”

“He’s high,” Anakin offered bluntly. “He took something last night and won’t go to medical wing.”

“Ah,” Plo said. “Is that true?”

Obi-Wan looked a little embarrassed. “I have the situation under control. My connection with reality might be...slightly altered right now, but my emotions, and what I chose to do with them are my own. I’m just, taking advantage of a unique opportunity to express myself.”

Plo Koon seemed to scrutinize him intensely, “If you’re sure this is what you need, than I support you. Just don’t do anything too foolish.” he finally offered.

Obi-Wan beamed. “I appreciate you saying so, I thought you would be supportive. Farewell, Master Koon”

Obi-Wan offered a respectful bow and then turned to walk away briskly. Before Anakin could follow, Plo rested a claw on his arm.

“Feel free to comm me if his behavior reaches a point where you think he truly needs a healer. I’m happy to help you drag him there if need be. A little cathartic release isn’t in of itself such a bad thing, but if he starts acting too out of control...”

Anakin nodded in acknowledgment, then ran off to see who else Obi-Wan had chosen to throw himself at.

Part Four

#star wars #obi-wan needs a hug #obi-wan gets a hug #star wars au no 27 #suicidal misunderstanding au #my au #time travel #hello there #@whatsup-gorls #and #@im-da-bronx #i googled what a tag list was and was a bit intimidated by the whole big multistep spreadsheet thing sorry #so i will probably not be doing a tag list for the near future #in any reliable sense #but i am very flattered you asked and am psyched you enjoy the story because i am also very excited about it #also to #@rainbowfam100 #i saw your comment and just thought oh no me too #star wars au #sw #fanfiction #i keep wanting to tag this au with angst and then i read it over and its mostly hugs so know that there WILL be angst #but i guess were not really there yet #ive already written a big chunk of angst with only 2 hugs and both of them are very angsty so i feel confident in my prediction

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Text

just because you’re afraid it doesn’t mean you’re broken.

Titans 3.05

once more into the cold dark void of the internet with my stream-of-consciousness take on a superhero tv show...

spoilers ahead.

1. i cannot believe that among the first things i get to hear in this episode with my own two ears is the line 'eluded our overdudes'. why must you give me such pain along with so much joy, show?

1.5. scarecrow stringing jason along on this path to red-hood-dom is not something i would’ve ever expected, but does kind of make sense.

1.55. i don’t know all the details of the original resurrection arc in the comics but i like that jason, weirdly, has a greater role to play in his own demise and rebirth? i think it makes it easier to draw a line between his past trauma, the demonstrably shitty and terrifying responsibility of being robin, the ways bruce and the titans wronged him, his responses to that, the reasons he turns to scarecrow, and his final evolution to red hood. it makes for a smoother character arc rather than a one that was interrupted for two decades before somebody went oh hey let’s resurrect that kid that the audience once voted to kill and make him an anti-hero!

1.75. what’s crane giving him? anti fear toxin? anyway, crane is a fucking creep and i’m not sure i want to see a whole lot of him on my screen.

2. oh, um, heads up: there’s a long sequence of unsteady cam + flickering lights right after the title card upto the 3:16 mark. it’s a bit headache-inducing so if you want to skip, you can go ahead and do that.

2.45. that’s... weird... why would he dream about... donna...

ok, who am i kidding. i’m going to jump right into my theory about Why Titans Makes Sense Actually because the show itself is apparently not interested in explaining itself:

a) it makes no sense for jason to be conjuring up donna--who famously did not care much for him!--in his dreams. (he wasn’t even there when she died.) or for her to be telling him don’t go or there’s still time.

b) this leads me to think that that’s actually donna, in some sort of limbo between life and death, the kind of place where jericho used to be

c) rachel has demonstrated that she has the power to link the minds of the titans across great distances--she called jason and hank/dawn for help in 2.01, she linked up everybody later in the season, projected dick’s hallucination of his father into their brains without even realising she was doing it, and in the finale, she managed to get dick into conner’s brain. she’s in themyscira now. is this how she gets donna back to life? but reaching out to her in that non-space between life and death?

d) the next obvious question is: why isn’t donna appearing in the dreams of the other titans? she probably is, but they have better reason to be dreaming about her since they were actually close to her, unlike jason.

e) but why would she warn jason in particular? does she foresee jason entering the afterlife--however briefly? does she have an idea of what jason plans to do and what he will become?

f) anyway, more trippy mindscapes and weird psychic powers, yay!

2.5. my heart clenched when bruce comforted jason post-nightmare: clearly i’ve been reading way too much batfam fic. this is a side of bruce we haven’t really been told to expect by all the characters on the show calling him a ‘psychopath’ (*cough*unreliablenarrators*cough*) and him getting jason to speak to a professional speaks volumes about the kind of self-reflection he’s done post dick’s departure, and maybe some of the regrets he has with regards to how he dealt with dick’s traumas.

i mean, just look at him when jason dismisses his concerns! BRUCE IS TRYING JASON

anyway, i have a whole lot more i want to say about this, but i’ll save it for later.

also: LESLIE THOMPKINS!!!!

3. i really like molly--and i love that she’s a friend from before jason got taken in by bruce, the implication that they meet up regularly and that she’s a grounding influence on him (tho clearly not grounding enough to not go along with his dumbass idea about confronting a child trafficker alone).

3.5. aw, jason. robin was his armour against everything in the world that would throw him down and chew him to bits, but san francisco proved that even robin wasn’t enough to protect him. it’s really interesting how ‘disillusionment with the idea of robin’ is so integral to the traumas of both dick and jason but in such different ways.

4. LESLIE!!!!!!! i even forgive her office being so goddamn blue because leslie!

4.5. it makes so much sense for titans!verse leslie to be a therapist, because this show is so inward looking anyway, and therapist sessions are a useful tool to showcase this character work in a story. besides, at least in fanfic, leslie often seems to double up as a counsellor anyway.

4.6. oh man. i’m not terribly convinced by walters’ red hood (tho i think that may be the point--argh. i’ll come back to this thought later. have to stop getting distracted!) but he plays the asshole kid that’s trying not to let any real emotion seep through really well.

“you’d like me to punch you, wouldn’t you”

5. not sure what to think of batman’s little trophy case other than the show winking unsubtly at us and going look look - catwoman! the riddler! two face! you excited yet?! it’s like the scene from the end of amazing spiderman 2 when they were trying to drum up excitement for a sinister six spinoff by having harry osborne walk by a bunch of display cases with stuff from iconic villains in them.

... but then again, bruce does like to display a lot of shit in his batcave, including his dead robin’s bloodstained costume, so.

5.5. bruce is so soft with jason it’s killing me. beyond just trying to learn from his mistakes with dick, it speaks to his own genuine desire to balance his dedication to gotham with doing the best by his sons, although he’s often not successful with that.

i love that titans is really playing the long game with bruce wayne, with each season and character-perspective sliding in fresh pieces of a bigger puzzle. titans’ bruce has always been a phantom of other peoples’ making, but now we’re getting the idea that he’s a whole lot more complicated than other people make it seem.

5.75. it really recontextualises some of his actions from previous seasons: the fact that he locked dick out of his security systems in 1.06 is likely his way of respecting dick’s independence and his desire not to be associated with batman/gotham anymore. jason knowing about bruce’s tracker while dick doesn’t is probably bruce trying to be more honest and upfront with his charges. bruce sending jason packing off to sanfran to spend time with the titans is probably not him passing on a big responsibility to dick (as i first uncharitably thought) but him trying to get jason out of the toxic influence of gotham for a while and a sign of his trust in dick as a leader and a mentor,

5.8. i mean, bruce is a prick, but he’s also human.

6. i think leslie is doing some good work with jason here, though she may have overstepped the line with her line about robin as a construct being projected by a man with BPD. her speculations about bruce’s diagnosis have no place in her session with jason, and if bruce confides in her, an egregious violation of patient-therapist confidentiality.

(about the diagnosis itself... i don’t know. i can’t really confirm or refute this without a whole lot more information, and i’m not sure if the writer of this episode means BPD in the same way an actual professional might.)

6.5. i think a huge thing that gets missed out in a lot of recent comics as well as movies/shows is that bruce didn’t create the robin persona out of whole cloth. dick did. he’s the starting point of that legacy and to call it entirely bruce’s creation is blatant erasure of that. in fact, i’m surprised that dick doesn’t feature more in the conversations they’re having about the pressures of being robin. after all, the guy had been robin--bruce’s partner--for such a long time before jason.

6.8. (and here’s the primal part of me that resonates the deepest with dick grayson--the Eldest Daughter part--that’s sort of resentful: that jason gets the therapy and softness and the learning from mistakes when it took years and years for bruce to reach out in any meaningful way to dick.)

7. oooh that was a great scene!

it’s fun to do these stream-of-consciousness live reactions, because the moment you step down from your soapbox, the episode goes right into tackling what you were just complaining about. bruce means well, he’s learning, but he goes about exactly the wrong way to help jason: taking away robin now can’t be read by jason as anything but a devastating judgment call from bruce. and iain glen really sells the moment that bruce realises this--too late--and his helplessness in trying to get jason to see that it isn’t jason’s fault that he’s trying to do this. he loves jason enough that jason is enough.

7.5. aaaah so jason brings up the elephant in the room at last. dick got everything makes sense from his perspective, where getting to put on a costume and fight crime means approval, means being something stronger and better than you are. dick got to be robin, then nightwing, and a leader of a whole team of other costume-clad heroes.

8. ... how did jason just walk into arkham????? this is ridiculous.

8.3. i mean, clearly jason’s not thinking straight, but betraying batman like this puts his possibilities of being robin again even further away.

8.5. watching that chemistry experiment montage was strangely funny. this guy is looking for an antidote to fear? well, constantly mixing up and inhaling gases concocted by a mad-scientist supervillain is something only the very fearless--reckless to the point of foolishness!--would do. what’s to say crane’s not given you a formula for a drug that will keep you tethered to his every will and whim? hmmmm?

8.7. so he sought out the joker to... test the formula???

9. wow the “loud and clear... boss” hits different after a whole episode of them referring to each other as father and son.

9.3. waitwaitwait HOLD UP. wait a DANG MINUTE. you’re telling me that scarecrow had enough resources that he could not only have folks on the outside steal jason away and dunk him in a lazarus pit (i TOLD you that this show would bring up and dismiss ra’s al ghul in a ten second aside! I TOLD YOU) but also have his own little chemistry lab in the basement, AND have enough resources for jason to build his red hood persona???????? all of this in barely twenty four hours?

well there goes my ‘jason orchestrated his death’ theory. it was nice while it lasted. *cups hands to the sky* fly away, my baby.

9.6. a part of me is gleeful at the rushed nature of such an iconic transformation though, especially when compared to all the character work that went before it. we’re so used to getting the opposite that it’s fucking delightful to have a show that’s more interested in exploring its characters’ minds rather than battle scenes or recreating transformations from the comics. that’s taken such bold and exciting steps to fully convey all the nuances of its most recognisable character, bruce wayne, from casting an older actor to play him to unflinchingly showing just how damaging the vigilante lifestyle has been to him and the people he loves. BRILLIANT

*sporfle*

10. again, heads up: a whole lot of flashing lights between 40:28 and 42:00.

10.3. i guess it’s the super-compressed timeline that’s really throwing me off. where did he have the time to get/develop the mind control thing from? or is it something that he got from the cabal of villains that he intimidated at the beginning of 3.02? very messy.

10.5. i love molly, i hope she shows up again this season.

11. aaaand that’s it! that was a solid episode as flashback episodes go, but now i can’t wait to return to the present.

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #jason todd #bruce wayne #leslie thompkins #a tragic jalebi #robin #red hood

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wordsablaze · 3 years

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Touch And Go

day six, where dick realises there’s no way to fit back into his life after returning from spyral...

A/N: blame spyral for this, i’m still mad about it. whumptober prompt: touch starved

Cold had become a constant in Dick’s life.

Cold words, cold stares, cold nights, cold shoulders, cold drinks, cold reports, cold hands, cold everything .

He thinks the cold might have been the worst part of being undercover. Because sure, the risks and the deadlines and the uncertainty hadn’t exactly been fun, but the cold had been something beyond awful: the cold had been lonely.

Dick grew up surrounded by people and love and warmth, and then he grew up around fewer people and more subtle love but somehow just as much warmth, and then he became a part of the people and love and warmth that yet another version of his family was growing up surrounded by.

He didn’t always do a great job of providing love and warmth, he knows, but he tried. And he liked to think that it had worked because every time he felt like the nights were too dark or too long or too haunted, nostalgia had only brought back memories of smiles and bickering and warmth that fuelled him to keep working, to keep fighting, to just generally keep going.

Only, he must have thought wrong.

He must have, because now he’s back to living normally and he’s actually allowed to exist in daylight and everything should be fine, but it’s not; he hadn’t been foolish enough to think everyone would forgive him immediately - pretending he was dead is far worse than dropping off the grid for a few days after a fight - but he had apparently been foolish enough to think everyone would forgive him at all.

Nightwing returns with relative ease but Dick Grayson finds himself unwanted.

He’s unwanted when he tries to talk to Jason about the classics he’d read to cope but finds himself met with only vague comments about their opinions being mismatched. He’s unwanted when he offers Tim help with his research for a case he’s been looking into all night but finds himself met with barely polite dismissals. He’s unwanted when he offers to take Damian out for some fun but finds himself met with scowls and excuses that only half make sense.

So he stops trying to be wanted.

He leaves Gotham.

He finds a new place in Bludhaven and spends every night throwing around threats and punches until the crime rate drops to unprecedented low levels, then continues to patrol as if his life depends on it anyway. He won’t admit it, but it somewhat does.

And he knows he’s getting a very strange reputation because every gang has a different theory about his return and why his puns are often mixed with bloodlust and why he never seems to sleep, but he couldn’t care less - he doesn’t let himself care because caring is warm and he is oh so cold and there’s no changing that.

Some days, usually after bad nights, he craves warmth. He craves hands running gently through his hair, he craves arms wrapped tightly around him, he craves fingers intertwined seamlessly with his own, he craves and craves and craves so badly that it hurts.

There are no painkillers that work against this kind of cold.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s summer or winter, the cold sticks to his skin like lichen to a rock. He wants desperately for someone to replace it with the warmth of human contact but his only option is getting into fights and although trading punches with the criminal underworld can be a good distraction, he’s still on his own again by the time he gets back from patrol.

“Richard?”

Well, he’s usually on his own.

He flinches at the sound of his name, not having heard anyone say it for far too long, instinctively unsheathing his escrima sticks and positioning himself defensively because he can’t think of anyone who would be in his apartment unless they’re trying to kill him.

“There’s no need for that, it’s just me.”

Me?

Me, who?

Dick drops his escrima sticks, not sure whether he does so because something in his head tells him the voice can be trusted or if he just doesn’t care enough to protect himself any longer.

“Richard?”

This time, the voice sounds concerned and Dick finally looks up.

He blinks.

And blinks again, because there’s no way Damian is standing in front of him right now.

There’s no way anyone can be standing in front of him right now. He hasn’t spoken to any of his family - if he’s even still allowed to call them that - for weeks and they’ve given no indication of caring what he’s been doing or even where he is so Damian being here is illogical at best and another hallucination at worst.

“Richard- Dick? Are you hurt?”

It’s the use of his preferred nickname that jolts Dick out of his shock. He swallows and shakes his head, pulling himself upright and resisting the urge to ask how Damian is doing, how everyone is doing, how the people he loves but isn’t loved back by are doing without him.

“Damian. It’s uhm, it’s really nice to see you. Is there something I can help you with?” he asks, smiling.

Damian frowns at him, glancing between his abandoned weapons and the awkward way he’s holding himself before clicking his tongue. “Alfred would like to invite you back home for dinner.”

Dick laughs.

“Home?” he echoes.

The manor hasn’t been his home since he died.

Home is people and love and warmth and the manor is none of those things. It can’t be any of those things because everyone living there hates him and everything about the place leaves him feeling empty and everywhere he goes, he is always alone and cold.

“I would also appreciate your presence,” Damian adds softly, stepping forwards.

Under any other circumstances, Dick would congratulate his little brother on expressing his feelings. But now he knows better than to think Damian would tolerate that so he just steps back, wrapping his arms around his stomach and clenching his hands into fists around his suit. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Richard, I-”

“It’s okay, I know you can’t forgive me,” Dick interrupts, knowing that anything Damian says would probably break him to the point of no return. “You don’t need to explain, I don’t blame you. I- I love you and… and I understand. And I’m sorry- I’m so, so, sorry. I just- I get it and I’m so sorry.”

Before Damian can get any closer, Dick grabs his escrima sticks and all but flings himself out of the window, knowing that he can never go back to that apartment and will most definitely have to relocate once more. But that’s okay because anything and anywhere will be better than being reminded of the people he will never see again, of the love he will never share again, of the warmth he will never feel again.

accidentally turned him into a more angsty elsa, oops-

thanks for reading !! masterlist | dc sideblog: @batfamvibes

#whumptober2021 #no.6 #touch starved #dc #batman #fanfiction #dick grayson #hurt dick grayson #hurt no comfort #angst #dick and damian #my writing #nightwhump #no beta we die like dick's hopes and dreams

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pizzaapplecheese · 3 years

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Schizophrenic Basil headcanon

I decided to write my headcanons for Basil!

Warning: Spoilers, and same content warnings for the game, as well as self harm

Note: I do not have schizophrenia, so it is not going to be 100% accurate (especially when not everyone experience it the same way, ie. Some might have never hallucinate an entire person or some can only hear one voice in their head, ect.) anyways back to the headcanon!

Basil developed it after Mari died, the whole event caused too much stress on him

It started with Basil denying what happened and claiming it to be "something else" that caused it

Basil had a hard time sleeping and would spiral on the smallest of things (that happened before the incident, but it was never as intense as now)

A month later he started experiencing hallucinations and not something he made up to cope on what happened, he blamed the hallucinations on her death (even though they weren't there before)

He would see see a shadow swaying in the wind near a tree, a clomp of hair with eyes and mouth, and would sometimes hear Mari's voice yelling at Sunny

It started to go more than just the incident with sometimes hearing the sound of scratching, laughter when no one was there, or the feeling of being eating alive by something

Basil would experience delusions, he would believe that someone is following him, or that a classmate he never met knows about what he did to Mari, or that Mari is haunting him as revenge

After a while of this Basil would pull his hair, pinch himself, and hit himself to help him escape from this, from these hallucinations and unbareable emotions, it was too much for him

He doesn't speak to people much, especially after the incident and if he does it was usually quick and short. Talking to people for too long is hard for Basil to keep up since he had trouble staying on topic and would jump from one thing to another with what seems to be no correlation at all. (kinda like how in the Basil fight he went from "it's so good to see you" to "it came to you that day")

The bullying did not help at all, it made his issues worse and it also allowed people to dismiss his issues as a usual bullying reaction

Basil would avoid people as much as possible since he was scared of them, even if they treated him as nicely as possible and put themselves in danger to help him, he would be afraid of them

His mind would with questions, he would believe that they wanted something from him or that they are secretly trying to hurt him

Sometimes he would avoid his grandma too after all, what would happen if she found out? (she would probably hug him, but Basil's fear and guilt told him otherwise)

His grades dropped completely as well, he used to be one of the smartest kids in class, but after everything, it was too hard for him to concentrate

His hallucinations was too distracting for him to listen or work, he would sometimes skip lessons because of it

Teachers got suspicious of his behaviour, but didn't stop it too much since it was typical bullied child behaviour

They called his parents to ask them permission for him to speak to the councilors, but his parents knew that those were not good and promised him someone who can take care of him and grandma

Then came Polly, she is both Basil's and his grandma's caretaker

She would try to ease the load and stress off of Basil, taking care of his grandma and the house, just so Basil can focus more on his grades and personal life more

It made Basil hiding from his family about his bullying extremely hard

Polly although not knowing what was going on notices something is up

Basil avoided Polly, but even he cannot handle things completely and she would barge into his room when she hears him having a panic attack or when he is having an episode

She teaches him some breathing techniques which Basil aggressively uses whenever he can, because it helped at first

When Sunny came back the first day he was so happy, yet fearful. He missed Sunny, he is back!

However the voices were not as pleased and would go off on how Sunny wants him dead and is probably plotting his death, causing him to avoid them the next day

After the fight Basil had to stay in the hospital for a while, the doctors took notice of his episodes and how he harmed himself and was informed by Sunny during an investigation about what happened that Basil attempted suicide

They told Polly that Basil would have to be in suicide watch and taken to therapy or if she isn't able to handle it have him to be taken to a psychiatric hospital

Polly called his parents and discussed on what to do, after a while they agreed that a psychiatric hospital would be best since it is runned by professionals who would know what to do in any given situation

It takes a while for him to get diagnosed, but after a few years he finally gotten the right diagnosis and was given the proper medication for his issues

He still have his ups and downs, but at least he has people that will stick by him and help him no matter what

#basil omori #Omori Basil #Omori Polly #Omori Kel #Omori #omori game #Omori headcanons #Omori schizophrenia #Schizophrenia headcanon #Schizophrenic Basil #Omori schizophrenic Basil

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

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Kingdom |Prologue: Catching Fire|

And so we begin :) please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed!

Pairing: Juyeon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, fantasy, royalty!au

Triggers: death, semi-graphic depictions of blood

Word Count: 1.8k

A spark of betrayal lights the flame of a war.

Tag list [ dm or send an ask to be added! ]: @itsapapisongo @dearseungie @chrisbahng @reverienostalgia @wingkkun @juyeo-on

TBZ Masterlist | Kingdom

Changmin can’t breathe. He can’t see, can’t hear, can’t even think over the pounding of his own heart as he strains helplessly against the chains that bind his arms. They dig into the stinging cuts on his skin, iron burning the magic that seeps from his blood.

How could everything have come to this, just days before Juyeon’s coronation, the coronation that was supposed to bring his kingdom to peace?

He struggles in his bonds, chains that bind the remaining magic in his veins, erasing the humming thrum that usually bubbles below his skin. It leaves him cold, empty, helpless as he strains against harsh metal imbued with spells he knows but can’t break.

His magic is gone.

Gone.

And the simmer in his blood isn’t the only thing that’s gone silent.

Bom steps around his kneeling body, her footsteps the only sound in the still air. Changmin raises his head to meet her solemn eyes, gazing down at him with a stony pity flashing in the darkness.

Changmin never liked Bom, never got over the crawling of his skin whenever she brushed by a little too close. She always seemed too cold, too uptight, and several times, he wondered how she was even ordained as a mage. Even now as he stares, refusing to back down even when he knows he can’t escape, his mouth twists into an expression of the faintest disgust, disgust for her single-mindedness that has plagued him, the Board’s gray mage, for the past five years.

“Why?” he finally asks, voice hoarse with remnants of shouts, cries of surprise and betrayal as he tried to fend away the mage standing before him. “Why would you do this?”

She’s opening her mouth, probably about to give some pithy reply to make his blood boil, but the shrine door opens with a crash and a bang before she can start. Another mage walks out, ivory robes stained with red.

High Mage Jung Sungkyu of the Ivory Kingdom. Changmin’s former mentor and a father figure.

Covered in blood.

Changmin blinks once. Twice.

The red doesn’t disappear.

So none of this is a hallucination, a nightmare he’ll soon wake up from.

Yes, this is the mage from whom he learned, the mage who bound him and his queen together in their promise, the mage whom he looked up to for so long. That kind, powerful mage is the same, the very same as the one walking toward him with bloodstained robes and an expression of pain on his face.

Blood stains.

Changmin doesn’t even want to think about what that means for those who didn’t manage to escape the shrine, for the guards who defended him, for the queen who told him to flee, the queen he left behind.

Oh, my queen…

A mask falls over Changmin’s features, and he stops struggling against the chains now cutting into his skin. His eyes bore into those of the mage walking forward, piercing holes into his skin until the man can’t even hold his gaze anymore and drops his head instead.

“You thought you could escape and warn your friends, didn’t you?” Bom asks, eyes impassive. Her lips curve slightly, coldly, blade-like under the crescent moon. Iron. “Don’t worry, young gray mage. We’ll pass on the message soon enough. We’re just not ready, not quite yet.”

We’re not ready.

We…

“We” doesn’t only include Bom and the high mage. This is something bigger.

We.

Changmin swallows, trying not to go dizzy from the realization. With every word that falls from his lips, he only becomes more certain that he’s right.

“You’re working with the princess.”

Pawns and kings, how can he warn Juyeon and his sister when he’s miles away, stuck in magic-binding chains, and, judging from the knife at Bom’s waist, about to die?

Stall. Stall, keep stalling. “How could you betray the orders like this?” he asks, desperation dripping from his lips. “You swore loyalty to the Board above all, not to your kingdom – why would you do this?”

“I believe the Board’s balance lies in supporting the ivory queen,” Bom says, a faint but manic glint of excitement entering her eyes. It makes Changmin’s skin crawl. “I am sworn to protect the balance, no? This is what I believe is best.”

“The princess is not the queen,” Changmin snaps, brain still running. How can he do anything without his magic? “She has no title other than that of a royal pawn.”

“Oh, she’ll be queen, soon enough.” Bom smiles, a curve of the lips that feels more like a knife blade than a grin.

What does that –

Oh.

Oh, no.

No.

His queen…

His queen must be dead.

Changmin’s head snaps upward, the gold insignia around his neck thumping painfully against his chest. Desperately, he looks at his old mentor.

He wouldn’t have killed his queen, would he? Might have subdued, might have knocked them out, but – he couldn’t have killed –

The mage refuses to meet his eyes.

Red clouds Changmin’s vision, mixes with the black of night and the cold light of the moon overhead. A scream builds in his chest that fights to leaves his lips as his head drops once more.

Lost in pain, barely able to breathe, he almost doesn’t feel the gold at his chest, the carved queen and king that always rest at the base of his throat. As he breathes, though, clearing his mind, the insignia dragging his neck to the ground catches his attention.

It’s charmed as it always has been, never to leave his side until death. The gold symbol, a queen and king standing next to each other on a miniature chessboard, is a gift passed down from one gray mage to another, one of only three keys that exist to unlock a kingdom’s crown jewels. It hasn’t left his neck since the day it was given to him by his predecessor when he was ordained at fifteen, one of the youngest to take on the mantle of gray mage.

They will take it when he dies. Undoubtedly they will – it holds magic, magic they will need for whatever it is they’re planning. At the very least, they wouldn’t leave such a powerful relic to be burned with his body.

So what are they planning?

“What do you plan to do, when your princess is a queen?” Changmin tries to make his voice sound as disbelieving as possible, hopes they can’t hear the shaking in his words. He’s rewarded with a twitch of Bom’s eye. “Surely you don’t think the ivory citizens will accept her, not when their current rulers are so loved?”

“That won’t matter.” Bom’s grin makes her look ghoulish under the moonlight. “Not when the entire Board is under our control.”

Changmin’s heart almost stops. Never, not once in the history of the Board, not even when the high orders had to intervene and send down the current laws of the land, has one kingdom attempted to completely take over the other. There have been revenge plots and assassination plans, even one notable attempt by the former ruby bloodline to murder the onyx royals, but nothing… nothing of this scale.

He needs to warn Juyeon.

“An ambitious plot,” he chokes out, all of his former nonchalance gone. The insignia quivers at his throat, a reminder of what will be lost if the ivory princess succeeds. “I suppose you’ll be going to the Onyx Kingdom next.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Bom dismisses him with a flick of her hand, ready to unsheathe her knife. “You’ll be dead then, anyway.”

But Changmin doesn’t hear her. He focuses on the knowledge that they’ll be going to the Onyx Kingdom, that they’ll probably take his insignia with them.

A plan springs into his mind, fully-formed and wholly impossible. Impossible because he needs magic, magic that’s been stolen from him by the chains that bind his wrists.

Wait.

He closes his eyes, blocks out the sound of Bom’s droning voice and the cold twinkling of stars overhead.

And focuses on the faintest thrumming of magic beneath his skin.

His magic isn’t gone. It’s subdued, yes, but it isn’t gone. There’s some left, simmering in his blood, and if he concentrates it, it will be just enough for…

A smirk threatens to form on Changmin’s lips as he strains, invisibly, against the chains. Magic coalesces under his control, forming a small but warm stream as it travels through his blood, coming to a stop at his chest, just beneath the insignia resting against his skin.

Find Juyeon.

“I see,” Changmin says blandly, not having heard a single word of what Bom just said. “Interesting.”

Find Juyeon.

An eyebrow raises. “Interesting, that I’m about to kill you?”

Changmin blinks. “Hasn’t it been obvious from the start?”

Find Juyeon.

The magic in his chest grows warmer, brighter, as Bom’s face twists into an embarrassed scowl. “Any last words, then?” she snaps.

The bland look stays on Changmin’s face, even though the bejeweled knife in Bom’s hands sends shivers up his spine. “No, not to you.”

Find Juyeon.

The insignia sears against his chest with heat. His skin must be burning – he can’t smell cooking flesh just yet, though it’s probably only a matter of time – but he grits his teeth and bears it. It means it’s working.

It means it’s working.

Silver flashes down, the knife arcing towards his neck. Changmin shuts his eyes, prays, thinks those two words over and over again, find Juyeon –

“Wait.”

The blade stops at his word. He blinks his eyes open, looking up not at Bom, but at the High Mage who’s frozen to the spot. It’s one question, a question whose answer has only been implied, an answer that he needs to know. “Is my queen alive?”

Silence follows his question, which only confirms what he knew but dreaded. And even though it feels like his heart is tearing apart, even though tears are beginning to in his eyes for the second time tonight, Changmin musters the strength to use that brief silence to speak those two words once more.

Find Juyeon.

“I see,” he finally says, staring fully at the old mage. High Mage Jung, his former mentor, one of the most powerful high mages, looks smaller than Changmin has ever believed him to be – small, weak, helpless as he gazes helplessly at the ground, robes stained with blood. “Well, you may proceed.”

“It’s not a question of whether you’ll permit it,” Bom snarls, bringing his attention back to her. “You’re at our mercy now.”

Find Juyeon.

This time, as the insignia sears its mark into his flesh, Changmin allows a smirk to spread across his face. “I suppose that’s what you might like to think.”

Bom’s snarl only grows harsher in the moonlight, but unlike before, Changmin doesn’t feel fear at the ghoulish twist of her lips. Instead, he takes a last comfort in the harsh burn of the insignia resting against his skin as the knife comes slicing down.

My queen, I’ll see you again, soon.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for changmin and me please don’t kill me)

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napeoftheneck · 3 years

Text

Rivers of Crimson (Ymir x Reader)

I absolutely can bestie! I had a hard time trying to find out what I could do for some angst without being yk. One of those “I’m not Christa :(“ fics, so here’s some hurt/comfort w/ some extra angst mixed in !! Angst is my absolute favourite to write, I’m so elated that it’s is my first request. Especially with Ymir, too !! Thank u <3<3

Title: Rivers of crimson Genre: Angst w/happy ending, hurt/comfort Warnings: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of injuries, angst, swearing, Ymir being kind of a meanie, fighting, implied comphet if you really REALLY squint Word count: ~1.7k

IMPLIED SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 OF ATTACK ON TITAN !!

(There was no specific request for a WLW reader, so I tried to keep it as gender-neutral as I can :>)

Ymir had never really felt helpless since her youth. Even then, in those moments, she felt as though she had been ruling, that whatever she could do would bring praise and gratitude and triumph. It was only after she had been adjudged when she realised that the reason she sought after that feeling of authority for so long was because of just how dependent she had actually convinced herself she was.

Becoming a god was the loneliest feeling in the world, but solitude brought a power not many had; it brought independence. She never had to worry about others.

She often found herself watching her fellow cadets when they returned from battle. Ymir would often follow as they broke down, crumbling to their knees in wracked sobs upon hearing of the demise of their loved ones. She would listen to the hums of commiseration from other soldiers or watch as they would help the mourning fighter to their feet and lead them away from others' scrutinising eyes. She wouldn't pity them. The feeling of sympathy was foreign to her.

Ymir had been fighting for a grand portion of her life now. She had held herself to those same beliefs since her first day of training, so she was specifically surprised when she had taken such a liking to you.

She fought it for a while. Whenever you would sit with her at lunch, she would make an effort to seem uninterested when you spoke of your day. When you stumbled during training, she would correct you, but would mask whatever tenderness that found her voice with a sigh or a comment implying that you “need to suck it up”.

Yet, despite how she pushed and strayed from you, you remained a constant in her life of inconsistencies. Eventually, you were the closest to what she could call a friend.

Ymir ignored how, whenever you would patch her wounds or link to her on cold nights or how often you would sleep in the same bed, she was far too mercenary to label you as something other than a friend. Even that was stretching it.

Though, in moments like these, Ymir wished that she was raw enough to let you know. Because, in moments like these, she would be terrified to misspeak.

You wouldn’t fight often. Not like this.

You had mentioned having to “get up early” off-handedly during dinner when excusing yourself from the table. Ymir asked about it and you mentioned a scout that had been injured, whom you volunteered yourself to replace for an outer-walls mission. You said it all so casually. Ymir couldn’t grasp any sarcasm in your voice or crack in your authored facade as you brushed through your hair in the mirror of her chambers. She didn’t see you make eye contact with her once. You spoke to her coolly about how happy you were to finally be able to sleep, about the dinner and how it was cold that day, about how Jean had snuck some of your apple at lunch that day.

Ymir just stood in silence, considering and rejecting things to say in response.

“Were you gonna tell me about how you’re leaving tomorrow, or was I just supposed to wake up without you and put it together myself?” She spoke before thinking. You hesitated, hovering over your cupboard. “Ymir, it’s not a big deal,” you finally sigh, running a hand through your hair the moment it’s freed. “I said it was just a capture mission. Hange said we won’t go far-“ “You can't go.” You narrow your eyes. You had now frozen in your tracks completely; no longer pacing around the room to place things in their correct spaces. “I’m not a child,” you speak gently, as if to a rabid dog. The blaze in her eyes was enough to pardon it. “I don’t have to ask your approval to work. I don’t need you next to me,” you deride lightly, insignificantly, as you turn your back to her. You didn’t plan to sound so dismissive. “Are you seriously being this fucking petty right now? You could die out there,” Ymir, however, fully intended her venomous rhythm. She towers over you, if not just in her tone alone. “You’re being stupid. You know you're not strong enough to fight with that squad.” Your breath hitches in your throat. Ymir regrets her words immediately, but she doesn’t waver in her stance. “What the fuck is your problem?” you sneer. “You insist on how little you care about me, but as soon as I do anything without your permission you yell at me?” “That’s not what this is about, (y/n)-” “Then what is it about, Ymir? Why are you so scared?” “I don't give a shit about what happens to you! I'm just-” Ymir catches herself before she can finish her sentence. “No, I-” “Exactly,” before she can correct herself, though, you are biting y our lip the way you do when you're biting back tears and you are in front of her. “Move. I need to go to bed.”

She is wordless as she steps to the side and allowing you to pass her. It isn't until she hears your footsteps down the hall when she speaks.

“If you come back, I won’t be here.” She hears you stop. Ymir doesn't expect you to come running to her, arms open and folded clothing discarded into a pile on the hallway floor. She isn't entirely sure why she's digging such a hole for herself - she doesn't mean what she's saying - of course she doesn't, she adores you, so why is she so set on pushing you as far away as she possibly can? Why does she feel that she needs to? “Good.” you reply. The footsteps continue, then you are gone.

You are gone for three days.

Ymir, at first, didn’t count the hours. She stewed in her angst alone for a grand portion of the morning without you; she dutifully avoided talking about whatever mission you had left for at the table that morning.

Despite herself, Ymir had to eventually confront her weakness after the third consecutive “Are you okay?” Of that day that she wasn’t doing as good of a job of hiding her worry as she had thought.

She thought she didn’t seem too bothered when your name was mentioned at the breakfast table.

She thought she didn’t look too obviously intrigued when, 30 hours since you left (she swore she hadn’t counted), she heard Captain Levi murmur something about a retrieval squad. She thought she didn’t sound so desperate when she attempted to bring it casually up in conversation, yet she couldn’t fight the cracks in her voice and she couldn’t stop herself from wringing her hands over her wrists in worry when she thought nobody was looking. Helplessness went from being a stranger to a thorn at her side in a matter of hours.

It had been the dawn of the fourth day when Ymir was awoken by a creek by her door. She remained stiff as she listened to light footsteps approach her bed, but she softens when she hears you. When she sat up, unsure of whether you were actually there or if she had just been consumed by grief and began to hallucinate, you winced.

She blinks.

There are no words exchanged. Ymir debates speaking, though her body moves before she can and, in minutes, you are sat in the bathroom and she is kneeling in front of you.

Ymir isn’t certain (it seems like she hadn’t been certain about anything at all for the past week) why she wasn’t crying. She isn’t sure why she’s so terrified to touch you, or to speak, or to maintain eye contact for longer than a millisecond.

You were in frightening shape. Had she not been petrified to talk, Ymir would be swearing under each breath. Blood still seeped from your open wounds, cascading in small, splitting rivers of crimson down the side of your face. It had likely been far too long since you had fought any kind of titan, Ymir thought. Their blood would've been long since steamed. It was your blood. You must have noticed her hesitance as she wiped it, gently, dreading that she would uncover another wound, because you broke the abundant, pregnant stillness

“They lost two scouts.” “Oh.” Ymir responds. An unfamiliar feeling settles uncomfortably in her gut. “I’m sorry.” You nod, then you are silent again.

Ymir takes a moment to resume her conscientious work.

There is no obligation between either of you to say anything more. Your eyes are fixed downward, resting heavily on Ymir as she squints at the cap of some kind of disinfectant. She’s biting her tongue. “I didn’t mean anything I said,” Ymir spoke to you suddenly and without looking you in the eyes. You’re thankful because it told you that you weren’t the only one too frightened to do so. “I do give a shit about what happens to you,” You laugh insignificantly, shaking your head. “I thought you died. I thought I lost you and the last things I said to you was that I wouldn’t be here, but I will. I’ll always be here.” She is desperate, rambling until she realises it and lulls herself.

You would say something dismissively comforting had it not been for the silence Ymir’s hand brought as it raised to your cheek and gently brushed a stray tear away. It is so small and trifling, yet it is gracious and fragile and kind and it means the universe to you.

“I know,” you respond. You don’t need to hear a long-drawn, significant plea. You don’t need it because, truthfully, you knew you likely wouldn’t get it from Ymir in the first place. However, as she guides you gently back into her bed, engulfing you in the white sheets, and places a small kiss on your forehead, something settles within you.

It was a feeling one would associate with the moments after receiving an apology; it is warm, tender, relieving.

You were home. You were safe.

You were loved.

Although she hadn’t said it, it wasn’t needed, because as Ymir’s arms tighten around you, you certainly felt it enough to maintain a sleepy smile as you drifted off alongside her.

#yall i love ymir so much but i think she is SO hard to write #ymir x reader #ymir #aot #attack on titan imagines #ymir imagines #ymir x you #aot imagines #attack on titan imagine #ymir oneshot #attack on titan oneshot #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #request!

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anna-pixie · 3 years

Text

padawan -> obi-wan kenobi {part three}

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

hello!! i have written and rewritten this part a lot, and i still can’t decide whether i am completely happy with it, so honest feedback is encouraged!! ty all so much for your love on the last part, i hope you enjoy <3

summary: you and obi-wan head out on another mission, but something has got him in an awful mood (lmk if you guys figure out what his mood is about before the next part!!)

pairings: obi-wan kenobi x reader

warnings: mentions of sex

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

“Y/N, when you said you were serious about your training I expected I would see you there on time each morning.” The familiar lilt of Obi-Wan’s voice jerks you up from your incredibly deep sleep. You wipe away the drool from the corner of your mouth and gaze around your room with bleary eyes.

There’s nobody there.

Then a knock sounds from your door and you realise that your Master is too respectful to just barge into your room without permission.

“Come in, Master.”

You hear the hiss of your door sliding open and smile sheepishly as your favourite bearded face peers around into the unhomely expanse of your room. Unlike the Jedi Masters, padawans weren’t encouraged to decorate their rooms. That’s a privilege earnt through time and experience. You’re thankful that you went to bed wearing a large jumper last night, though as you stretch the material exposes your stomach ever so slightly.

“I broke my datapad yesterday…” You trail off, knowing that this is the third one you’ve gone through this year, “I didn’t have anything to set an alarm on.” An innocent smile graces your lips as Obi-Wan sighs, sitting next to you on your unmade sheets as he returns it with his own wry grin.

“Whatever am I going to do with you, Padawan?” You know your Master well enough by now to be able to tell what he is feeling by the tone of his incredibly expressive voice, and thankfully right now he doesn’t seem too annoyed by your lack of care for your datapad. However, you also know that you’re treading on very thin ice, that you’re going to have to start putting a lot more effort in unless you want him to give up on you like everyone else has.

It’s been a few weeks since you met Ahsoka which gave you the motivation you needed to get back on track. To say it’s been a hard few weeks would be an understatement. You’re up every morning before the light, fighting and learning and meditating with Obi-Wan. The two of you spend a lot of time together alone in the mornings and evenings when most other people in the temple have already retired to bed, but a lot of your time in the day is shared by Anakin - he thinks it is a great idea to train you and Ahsoka together.

Now that was a kick in the teeth.

You like Ahsoka, you really do, but it’s so humiliating to be trained alongside someone so much younger than you. Especially in front of the man you’re head over heels in love with. And, as another cherry on top of the cake of your shit life, the senate has been quiet as of late, which means Padme has plenty of free time to come and oversee your training sessions. Keeping an eye on the Jedi Temple, she says, but everyone sees the smiles exchanged between her and her Jedi. It makes you feel queasy.

How are you supposed to focus on training when your biggest distraction is hanging in front of you everyday?

You have to give it to Obi-Wan, he tries his best to steer you away from the pain caused by seeing Anakin and Padme together. He stands directly in your eyeline when he knows they are near each other, so that you can’t see anything except his smiling face. When Anakin suggests lunch with Ahsoka and Padme, Obi-Wan regretfully informs him of the non-existent prior engagements the two of you have with a sneaky smile your way.

With all the hardship of the past few weeks, you’re happy with how close it has brought you and your Master.

“Can we just leave it for today, Master? Please.” You flop back down onto your bed, your eyes remaining on Obi-Wan as you send him your best pleading, doe-eyed look.

“Sadly, we’ve been called away to war so I’m afraid that isn’t an option. It seems as though this is going to be a long operation. We’re first needed in Umbara, it seems as though General Krell has been executed by the clones. After that we go straight to Mandalore.”

“The clones executed a Jedi General?” Your voice is high as you stand up, heading over to your small closet and quickly rifling through your clothes to find something that would hold up for a few days.

“It appears that he was a Separitast sympathiser. He turned two clone units against each other, forced them to kill their own.”

Your eyes are wide as Obi-Wan continues to explain the situation awaiting the two of you on Umbara, and your heart clenches as you think about what the Clones must have been gonig through during their time there. You know attachments are forbidden as a Jedi, but you can’t help the close relationships you have formed with some of the soldiers. Captain Rex is like a brother to you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

An hour later, you’re holding onto the bar above you as your ship takes off in the direction of Umbara, Obi-Wan looking more jittery than you’ve ever seen him as he paces around next to you.

“You okay, Master? You seem shaken up.”

“I’m fine, young one.” He dismisses you with a shake of your head, “Come with me, we may as well get some training in whilst we’re enroute.” He doesn’t say anything else, just turns away and heads out of the bridge with not so much as a glance back to make sure you’re following him.

What on Alderaan is going on with him?

His mood doesn’t let up during training, you’ve never seen him come at you so relentlessly. If it wasn’t for the fact that they knew you so well, the passing clones would probably assume that the two of you were fighting to the death in your training room.

A cry escapes your mouth as he knocks the saber from your hand, as it clatters to the ground and rolls somewhere you don’t bother to look for, you expect him to stop. However his saber remains active, and he seems to be in a trance of sorts as he swings for you once more, only stopped from making contact with a part of your body when you swing your leg out from beneath you, causing the two of you to fall to the ground with a low grunt from him. His saber falls from his grasp in the same way yours did, and you work on figuring out how to calm him down as his body cages yours into the ground.

The only noise in the room is the sound of you both breathing heavily, and when your eyes finally look up and meet his again you almost feel as though he has used the force to steal your breath away from you. His blue eyes capture yours, not letting up as his gaze seems to only darken the longer the two of you lay there.

You can’t help but be reminded of a similar situation you found yourself in with Anakin a while ago, the two of you ended up tangled on the ground after a round of playful sparring. It was all heavy breathing and dark looks and you remember that all you could think was how much you had wanted him to kiss you in that moment.

So why, Maker tell, do you have the exact same feeling now? You thought that your crush on Obi-Wan had been a silly, fleeting thing back when you first began training under him. You didn’t think it would return with a vengeance, your mind silently asking him to lean down further as you struggle to pull your eyes away from his own. When you and Anakin has been in this same situation, you had hoped that he was going to kiss you, so it was humiliating when he finally tore his gaze from yours and pulled himself away from you with an awkward cough.

You think that Obi-Wan will do the same. Of course he will, he’s the most rule abiding Jedi you’ve ever met.

That’s why, when you feel his lips being placed softly on yours, you think you’re just hallucinating. It takes your mind a moment to catch up to what is actually occurring, your eyes fluttering shut as he pulls away and then presses his lips to yours with more fervour once he realises that you aren’t going to push him away.

The hand that almost struck you with his saber minutes before reaches up, holding onto your jaw whilst the other keeps him steady on top of you. He breathes heavily as he kisses you, your breath minging as you savour the feeling. This isn’t your first kiss, you had snuck out to the clubs of Coruscant before and kissed random boys before, but this was different. This was your first kiss since you had fallen in love with Anakin. All those nights you had spent dreaming, hoping, praying that he would be the next person you kiss. Yet here you are, your lips moving feverishly against your Master’s as you thread one of your hands into the long hair at the nape of his neck.

You must stay like that, basking in the feeling of each other for a good few minutes before a loud bang from the corridor snaps you both out of the spell you had fallen under. Obi-Wan quickly gets up, sticking out his hand to locate his saber, unable to look you in the eye as you slowly rise from your position. Your mouth tingles and your eyes are wide as you stare at the side of Obi-Wan’s head.

He smooths his hand over his beard and mumbles a quick, “That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry, Padawan.” before leaving the room hastily. You flinch at the way he says the word Padawan, like he is reminding you both that what you just did was not only forbidden but also extremely morally wrong. You’ve never been one to care about such trivialities, but Obi-Wan is definitely a fair bit older than you, to say the least.

As you catch your breath and find your lightsaber, you think to yourself that it’s good that you were interrupted, because if you weren’t then you might’ve been found by a soldier who would’ve reported what he saw back to the council. You ignore the part of you that wishes you would have continued, that thinks of how well your lips worked together and how at home you felt with his body on top of yours. And most of all, you ignore the part of you that wonders if him kissing you had anything to do with his sudden mood change since departing for the trip.

The rest of the journey is slow and quiet, you take some time to meditate and gather your thoughts, knowing you’re in no state to be dealing with anything important right now. A soldier offers you something to eat but you have to decline, with the way your stomach is turning you know you won’t be able to stomach any food.

Obi-Wan seems to have retired to somewhere quiet on the ship, you don’t see him until you touch down on Umbara. The capital has been captured now, and that is where you will spend the night before heading to Mandalore, however you must first deal with the execution of General Krell at a nearby facility that was taken by the clones.

You walk silently alongside your Master, an awkward tension in the air that is an extreme change from your usual playful banter and general good moods. As you approach Captain Rex and his troopers, he shoots you an inquisitive look, which you quickly brush off with a whisper that you’ll talk to him later.

The situation is resolved quickly, you and your Master both know you can take Rex’s word for the events that transpired, and you make sure Krell’s body is properly taken care of.

“We’ve only got one spare speeder on us, General, so Y/N will have to ride with one of the boys.” Are Captain Rex’s departing words before his gunship takes off towards the capital, leaving you, Obi-Wan and a few more troopers to travel back via speeder.

“You can ride with me, Y/N.” A clone who is about to depart shouts over to you, though your attempt to walk in his direction is thwarted by a sudden, harsh grip on your forearm. You turn quickly, shocked to see Obi-Wan shake his head, gesturing over to his own speeder instead.

“She’ll ride with me.”

The trooper offers no argument, simply saluting the two of you before speeding off towards the capital with a trail of dust in his wake.

You notice that Obi-Wan still hasn’t directly addressed you since the incident on the ship, so you stay quiet whilst climbing onto the speeder, waiting for him to say something. A squeak leaves your mouth when you’re pushed forward, Obi-Wan’s large body enveloping you from behind as he reaches past you to grab hold of the handles, and you’re off before you can even think about what is going on.

“We need to talk when we get back.”

Are the first words spoken to you, and the last, because he quickly falls silent. Though, you can’t help the warmth that spreads through you when his chin rests on your shoulder, his beard scratching your cheek oh so slightly.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dinner in Umbara is a quick affair, you scoff down what you can, not talking as much as usual due to your preoccupied mind. Obi-Wan disappeared after you both briefed Master Windu who is still back at the temple, and you wonder if he is off meditating somewhere, trying to reconcile for the ‘mistake’ that the two of you made.

You’ve been fighting your own inner turmoil about the situation since it happened earlier that day. Once you finish your food, you retire back to the uncomfortable bed in a tiny room at the top of the large building, assuming that Obi-Wan has decided to forgo the conversation and ignore you altogether.

As you lie on the hard metal, your mind wanders over the past few months. You wonder how Anakin would react if he knew you and Obi-Wan had kissed. Would he be angry? Jealous? Happy? Deep down you know you would want him to be jealous, you would want him to be angry at the thought of any other man having you in the way that he wants you.

But he doesn’t want you in that way, you remind yourself. Does Obi-Wan even want you in that way? You know he is a well revered man, and nobody can deny how good looking he is. If he really was looking for a romantic, or even just sexual, connection he could probably find that anywhere - why would he get that from plain old you?

A pang of sadness hits your gut as you think about him regretting the kiss, returning to Coruscant and finding another girl that he would rather betray the Jedi code in order to be with. And with wide eyes and a whisper of ‘oh no’, you realise that this is exactly how you felt when your feelings for Anakin started growing stronger. Just what did that kiss stir within you, surely your years old feelings for your Master haven’t suddenly resurfaced, right?

A knock on your door startles you, that deep in thought you hadn’t heard anyone approaching your rather isolated room.

“Y/N?” It’s Obi-Wan.

“You can come in, it’s open.

He slides the door open, his actions sheepish and small and not at all like the overly confident man he usually is. It pains you to see him like this, stumbling and second guessing everything he does.

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked when you’re not on Coruscant, anything could wander in.”

“Sorry, Master.” You’ve shuffled to the edge of the bed now, Obi-Wan sitting beside you, mirroring the exact position you were in when he woke you up this morning. Before everything turned into a mess.

“I… I’m so sorry, Padawan. I abused my position as your Master and I never should’ve even thought about doing something like that with you. Especially after you confided in me about your feelings for Anakin, I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of your vulnerability.” His voice is so shaky that you barely recognise it, and a wave of sadness hits you when you realise that he must’ve been carrying this burden of guilt around with him all day.

“Obi-Wan, it’s fine. You didn’t force yourself on me, I was completely on board when it happened, in fact I quite enjoyed it. I know it was wrong, against the code or whatever, but I won’t tell anybody. Please don’t feel guilty.” You make sure he keeps his eyes on you, a delicate touch on his cheek to keep him faced your way. A sigh emits from his mouth and your heart swells in your chest when he leans his head into your hand, seeking your comfort.

“I’m tired, Y/N. This war, I’m beginning to feel it’s toll.”

“There’s no shame in admitting you need a break, Master, but it’s not just tiredness that is eating at you right now. I know you, there’s something else going on. You can tell me. Is it something to do with Umbara, Mandalore, anything?”

“Thank you for your concern, Padawan, I’m quite alright.”

“Don’t do that, Obi-Wan.” Your voice wavers this time, “Don’t use that title as a way to brush me off. Yes, I’m your Padawan, but I hope that by now I’m also your friend.”

“Jedi aren’t supposed to have friends, Y/N.”

You scoff, removing your hand from his face as you turn away from him, not wanting to look at him as he lies to you.

“I was always jealous of him, you know.” He speaks again, after a few minutes of slightly uncomfortable silence.

“Of who?”

“Anakin.”

You turn back, your interest peaked as he looks at you. You swallow, a blush coating your cheeks as you note that his eyes are as dark as they were before. Before he kissed you.

“What reason could you possibly have had for being jealous of him? Oh, Maker, don’t tell me you’re in love with Senator Amidala.”

He chuckles, “No, little one, I was jealous of him because he always seemed to have your attention when he cared so little for you. I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at him.”

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years

Text

... I think you guys are going to like this.

358/2 Days REWRITE Part 2

Riku is around, but he's all over the place, and he has a mission: Find and capture either Roxas or Xion, unless he CAN manage both, so DiZ can use them to help Sora recover. He's on a time limit, though, because Sora's heart is damaged and the longer Roxas and Xion are around, the less likely Sora is to waking up or even sleeping; I mean, he'll BE sleeping, but it'll be much quieter and it will be absolutely pointless to try waking him up.

For the first few days or months, he keeps his distance, trying to decide who he's picking, sadly.

Pros of bringing Roxas to DiZ: He has the closest connection to Sora, being his nobody, he's got the keyblade, Riku can probably take him one v. one, if there are any problems, he just needs to get a reaction out of 'Sora.'

CONS of bringing to Roxas to DiZ: Have fun trying to run from the remaining Organization members, he'll have to avoid Non-form or he'll get beaten all to Hell, he runs the risk of hurting his friend for reals, Roxas is rarely alone, Roxas is one hell of a runner and fighter, he'll just feel bad.

Pros of bringing Xion to DiZ: She has more 'keyblade' potential, maybe her voice will help wake up Sora(?), she looks and sounds like Kairi, Naminé gets a new friend(as long as DiZ doesn't decide to throw her away).

CONS of bringing Xion to DiZ: She looks and sounds like Kairi, she's crazy skilled, she hits hard, she's laughable when she's mad, but it's gut wrenching to see her cry or be hurt, she looks and sounds like Kairi, Naminé is probably getting Thanosed when DiZ is done with her because he's a dick right now, so giving Xion to her as a friend will mean nothing, the connection to Kairi, he'll feel bad.

As you can tell, Riku is great at making decisions(sarcasm)

While he's too caught up to do anything, let's check on the sea salt trio, who are getting closer as friends, i.e. seeing Hayner, Pence, and Olette do stupid stuff a KH equivalent of TikTok, which the trio repeats on their own without a phone recording them, eating ice cream, talking, and exploring the Disney worlds for fun, both old ones and new ones that will appear in future games.

In this time, Xion becomes a mix of Kairi and Naminé, outspoken, but careful with who she runs her mouth to, smart, but still open to learn, protective and still needs something if a protector, etc. She is also a wickedly fast learner.

We also get organization shenanigans like Demyx being lazy on missions, Roxas getting annoyed at Xigbar for calling him tiger, dealing with Saïx, trying not to annoy Xaldin, even getting head pats from Xemnas, and, for fluff, Roxas and Xion finding Axel asleep on the floor of the clock tower and the two scaring him away for shits and giggles.

Yes, a lot of time passes, about 9-11 months, give or take.

Roxas and Xion also become closer as well with Axel being something like their chaperone, only he reports to Xemnas and Saïx.

Speaking of Saïx, he meets up with Axel one day and expresses disdain with the fact Axel would rather be friends with an unstable Roxas and a literal puppet that doesn't even exist.

Axel, on edge already with Xemnas on his back, tells Saïx to put a cork in it. Saïx only pushes back, asking if Roxas even KNOWS what Xion is, even what HE is. To both their credit, the two are wonderful at playing make believe and Axel, being the child he is, is a great at being their playmate.

Axel shoves Saïx back, snapping for him to shut his mouth before he says something he'll regret. Saïx, losing his composure, shoves back, asking if he should because Axel can't handle the truth; he never has been good at it, so it's not surprising.

Ring a bell, someone, please, because Axel throws a punch into Saïx's cheekbone. Saïx returns with a left hook directly to the side of the neck and knees Axel, who grabs his leg under his knee and rolls, making them both fall and throw more punches on the ground, bruising and bloodying each other in full view of the remaining organization members. Maybe we get a gag of Xigbar and Luxord placing bets on who will win, Demyx worrying because they should probably be stopped, Xaldin scoffing at the immature display, and then Roxas and Xion walking in and instantly getting worried because Axel is not winning this fight, as evidenced by Saïx slamming his head into the floor.

When the two stand up to keep fighting, Roxas and Xion race between them, the boy in front of Saïx and a very nervous Xion in front of Axel, who tells her and Roxas to stay out of this or they'll get hurt.

Roxas obviously refuses, but Xion leads Axel away from Saïx, who asks if Axel really needs children to protect him.

No, he needs to protect these two idiots, especially Roxas, who hasn't moved and his eyes have gone Non-form-y, like he's about to transform.

Saïx returns with berserker eyes and smashes Roxas into the wall by his neck, daring him to try it.

It draws a gasp from EVRYONE, even Xaldin, but Saïx scoffs that they shouldn't try pretending to be worried, what with how unstable and how much of a nuisance Roxas is, not too mention weak, which he says while watching Roxas try to break free. He kicks at Saïx, and misses, but Saïx smirks and summons his claymore, wanting to see how tough Roxas really is.

There's a reason Xion pulled Axel away and is so nervous, because said reason puts a hand on Saïx's shoulder and asks him if he enjoys this façade of a life and would rather not disappear.

Yep. Xemnas is here, and everyone backs down, including the the bet making Xigbar and Luxord, who so they can have deniability.

Saïx snaps out of berserk mode in the blink of an eye and begrudgingly lets go of Roxas, i.e. lets him drop down.

Axel and Xion start toward him, but freeze when Xemnas eyes them, like scary eyes.

He has an announcement: There's an imposter and he could be anywhere. He's in a coat just like everyone else's, but his hood's usually up. When he's not wearing it, he's a silver haired teen. Oh, yeah, and his name is Riku.

Axel, Roxas, and Xion all gasp, Axel because Riku was in Castle Oblivion and probably knows where Sora is and Roxas and Xion because it brings back memories from Sora.

Xemnas sees the reaction, but only focuses on Roxas, asking softly if he's okay and if he was hurt.

He's fine and he wasn't and he shakes his head to chase away Non-form.

Xemnas still helps him up and orders everyone to keep their eyes open and report ANYTHING on this imposter because the sooner they catch and... well, just catch him, the better, that part being Xemnas not wanting to upset Roxas, make him go into Non-form, and have everyone need to knock him out to calm him down.

Xemnas takes Roxas away to be checked on, in case he was really hurt and doesn't know it, and Roxas asks what will happen to Saïx and Axel for fighting. He didn't see a lot of it, so he’s not even sure who started it.

They’ll be 'interviewed' and reprimanded accordingly, but they won't die, so relax.

What about the imposter? Who's Riku? And who's Sora??

Xemnas stops checking on Roxas and puts a hand on his head, which he doesn't need to worry about because the organization can deal with it. All he needs to do is keep doing missions and giving his 100%. Roxas sighs that he IS, hell he's giving 150% because Non-form's acting up, but he's kept it calm, even with the hallucinations of Sora, Ven, and now Non-form.

Xemnas finishes checking for any wounds and commends Roxas, saying that is why he chose him. Before Roxas can ask, Xemnas tells him to go in the lobby because he has a mission with Xaldin.

Roxas does so and passes by and reassuring Axel and glaring Saïx, though Roxas glares back.

Xemnas has the two sit down and that warmth he had with Roxas is GONE IN A SECOND, asking both of them what they were thinking, picking a fight in front of everyone and endangering the two most vital components to the plan. Saïx jabs that Axel is letting himself be distracted while Axel states he's doing his job and doesn't want either of them to get upset or angry to the point of dysfunctionality. Besides, He did not start that fight, which he didn't even WANT to partake in.

Does Axel have legs? For now he does, yes. Can he stand? Yes. Can he DEMONSTRATE that he can stand? This is getting tedious, but sure, and Axel stands. Now can he walk from where he is to the far wall? Again, this is tedious, but yes.

If he did ALL OF THAT, why didn't he actually do it?

With no words, Xemnas dismisses Axel, telling him to accompany Xion on their mission.

Axel nods and leaves Saïx to be scolded.

We cut to Riku as he watches Roxas and Xaldin fight of heartless and some knights in Beast's Castle, maybe even go toe to toe with Beast himself, who manages to catch Roxas off guard and momentarily confuses him with Sora.

Xaldin knocks him away and the two leave, Riku coming out and asking if that smaller nobody really was Sora.

Beast admits it was a spur of the moment, but he could have sworn it was Sora.

Meanwhile, Xion and Axel fight hard in Hollow Bastion, squaring off against Squall, Yuffie, Tifa, and Cloud, where we see both more of Axel's gymnastics and Xion's ability with a keyblade.

The fight ends when Xion stops who she believes is Riku the imposter and chases after him, Axel following her in case shit hits the fan.

Xion follows Riku to a cliffside and he gives her an offer and a warning: either give him Roxas or hope that they never meet face to face again. Xion arms herself and demands to know what that means, but Riku also arms himself right as Axel throws a chakram between them and tells Riku to fuck off before he gets hurt.

Riku gives Xion one last glance before falling off the edge and leaving through a dark corridor, making it look like he just disappeared like a badass. They’re both confused, but still call it a day, Xion asking if Axel is okay after that fight with Saïx, because he’s still a little banged up. He expresses he’s fine(he’s a big boy!!) and tells Xion not to worry.

She’s going to anyway because Riku is after Roxas, and threatened her with a fight if she didn’t bring Roxas to him. Axel, although he’s shook, tells her everything will be fine.

LIES, because Xion is sent on a mission to defeat Riku. All she needs to do is knock him out and they’ll come collect him, no problem.

Xion IS strong, but not strong enough because Riku wipes the floor with her and is about to take her to DiZ when dusks, samurai, and Non-form Roxas, who also gets whooped, but at least fairs a little better.

The two wear Riku out enough for a lance to graze his arm, an arrow/bullet to hit his leg, and a few cards to distract him.

The rest of the organization arrive, even Saïx and Xemnas, the latter using thorn/vine things to bind Riku’s hands behind his back.

He remarks that Riku’s a lot bigger than he thought he would be, stronger too, and we get one of those creepy manga Xemnas moments as he grabs Riku, pulls him close by the jaw, and states he’ll have fun seeing just how strong he is; he knows that Riku is hiding Sora, Kairi, DiZ, and his witch, and will tear him apart with his bare hands to know where they are.

With Riku thoroughly freaked out, Xemnas stands and everyone returns, all tired and ready to find Sora.

Xion, however, isn’t. Because Riku said some very interesting things to her during their fight.

She considers telling Roxas, but he’s too worried making sure she’s okay, because Riku was tough. She goes to Axel instead, knowing he has a key to the dungeons, and he’s instantly skeptical; she asked if he could take her to see Riku. Xion lies through her teeth and says she just wants to rub in Riku’s face that they won and he lost.

Axel agrees, but decides he’s going to follow her, just in case.

They arrive as Xigbar leaves, asking if they’re going to welcome the new arrival and need help in doing so.

Xion counters that she’s actually going to return a favor and would like to do it alone.

Axel’s surprised and Xigbar whistles for her to stand down; he was just asking because she got kicked like a soccer ball, no harm in asking for help.

He leaves and Xion goes toward Riku’s cell, asking Axel to stay by the door until she’s done.

He does so and Xion walks towards Riku’s cell, where she and we the audience see Riku is banged up from being interrogated; looks like Xemnas is taking his time.

Riku asks what she wants and Xion responds with a deal:

Tell her about Sora and she’ll give the organization a good enough lie to let him go so he can help Sora. During their fight, the two had an argument, Xion saying she was going to protect her friend and Riku snapping she had no idea what friends were because she’s a nobody and a replica, and the reason Sora can’t wake up.

Spark Notes of the deal: If Riku tells Xion about Sora, Xion will give the organization an answer that will buy Riku enough time to get back to Sora.

Fair, but he has one condition: If he tells her, she was to decide what she will do; he’s not refusing because she genuinely wants to know more about Sora.

Xion agrees and Riku tells her to take a seat, because they’re going to be here for a while.

#kingdom hearts #kh roxas #kh axel #kh xemnas #kh xion #sea salt trio #kh riku #kh saix #kh 358/2 days #rewrite #there will be a part 3 #violence tw #picking on the little guy

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