#aw man i was so ashamed of the things i wrote when i was younger. like i grew a little older and put them under anon on ao3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ibijau · 3 years

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Futures past pt2 / On AO3

Lan Xichen awakens from a dream that isn't his, and must make a decision

Lan Xichen awoke to a desperate scream stuck in his throat.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he was going to…

His throat relaxed at last, just enough for him to wail in despair. Heavy tears stained his face and he curled up on his side, still half choking, scratching at his own neck until it bled.

Footsteps came to his door. He heard a voice calling his name, familiar and filled with worry, but he was gasping for air too badly to answer. The only sounds he could make were sobs and weak, pained moans. Getting worried, his uncle entered his bedroom and hurried to his bed.

“Xichen, what’s wrong?” Lan Qiren asked, grabbing his nephew’s hands so he wouldn’t hurt himself anymore, checking his forehead for a fever, his wrist for a pulse.

Lan Xichen’s heart was beating too hard, too fast, nearly making sick, and still he couldn’t quite breathe. He grasped his uncle’s hand, needing the comfort, the closeness. Needing the reminder he wasn’t alone, because…

Because he would be alone, someday. So desperately alone, and it would be his own fault.

The thought, the memory that didn’t quite belong to him, wrenched another sob out of him.

“Is something wrong?” Lan Wangji’s voice asked from further away.

Through the tears, Lan Xichen spotted his younger brother hovering in the doorway, so sleepy he hadn't even grabbed his ribbon, looking quite worried. Out of habit Lan Xichen tried to open his mouth and comfort Lan Wangji, but all that came out was a breathless growl that made the younger boy even more distraught.

It took a long while for Lan Xichen to calm down. Lan Qiren stayed at his side the entire time, having sent Lan Wangji back to bed. Holding Lan Xichen's hands, he hummed a melody, a lullaby of sorts which soothed his nephew, just as it had when Lan Xichen had been a child.

"It was just a nightmare," Lan Xichen said when his voice returned to him. "Apologies for the inconvenience, shufu."

"A rather strong one then," Lan Qiren replied. "If you want to share it, I will listen."

It was tempting. But if Lan Qiren didn't believe him, Lan Xichen would seem mad. And if he did believe him… Lan Xichen shivered at the thought. He couldn't burden others with that, it would be too cruel.

He shook his head.

"It was only a bad dream," Lan Xichen said. "With your permission, I will stay up a little and find ways to occupy myself until I feel like sleeping again."

"I might have medicine to help you fall asleep," Lan Qiren offered.

"No need, I just need a little more time. Please don't let me inconvenience you any longer, shufu."

Lan Qiren looked unconvinced, but did not insist, and soon enough Lan Xichen was left alone again.

The first thing he did was to stand up and go to the window, where he filled his lungs with all the fresh air he could. Nights were cold, each breath made his chest burn a little more, but he didn't stop until the pain was nearly unbearable.

The second thing he did was to light a candle, take some paper and ink, and start writing.

He wrote for most of what remained of the night, lest he should forget some crucial detail about that dream he'd had. Or rather… not a dream, not quite. A memory then.

His memory, and yet not.

The entire life of the man he would become, if nothing was done to set things right.

A man who would be blind to injustice. A man who, while seeking to protect his two dearest friends, would only push them faster to their death. A man broken by the weight of every wrongful choice he had made, after spending nearly half a lifetime trusting the wrong person.

In short, a man Lan Xichen did not want to become.

Exhausted and wrecked by emotions that weren't entirely his own, Lan Xichen had no way of knowing why this knowledge of the future had come to him. He was only certain that this vision, awful as it had been, was no mere fantasy. This had happened, or would happen, unless he took proper measures to prevent it.

Having finished writing it all down, Lan Xichen hid his grim prediction and went back to sleep, falling on his bed like a stone. No more nightmares plagued him that night. A small mercy. He wasn't sure he could have withstood it again.

When morning came, Lan Xichen rose at the habitual hour and tried to get ready for the day. The habitual rhythm of the Cloud Recesses allowed for few exceptions, and he didn't want to call more attention upon himself by asking for favours. But as he was getting dressed, his uncle came into his room, took one look at him, and ordered him to take the day off. Lan Xichen ought to have protested, but this suited him too well.

First, because he was exhausted.

Second, because he needed to come up with a plan. He had half expected that in the sunlight, that vision of his would melt like snow in spring. Instead, it only seemed to have taken a stronger hold upon his mind. This would happen, because it had already happened.

Lan Xichen sat on his bed, his half feverish notes sprawled in front of him, and considered the situation.

There was a war coming, but that was no surprise. Nobody with any understanding of politics could have missed that. If nothing else, Nie Mingjue was craving for a chance to start that war, eager to avenge his father.

Speaking of Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen would play such a role in his death that it wouldn't be exaggerated to call him a murderer (someone would, the memories told him) though the actual plot was due to Jin Guangshan and some other person Lan Xichen had yet to meet, that Jin Guangyao who he would be so fond of.

His other closest friend in that future he foresaw, and someone whose death he took a more active part in (but only reluctantly, someone would say, only when forced, and ought he not be ashamed that even after everything he still favoured the wrong friend?).

There were other matters of course, his father's death, his brother's decades long infatuation… but Lan Xichen felt that what truly caused the vision to come to him was that matter with the men who would be his sworn brothers.

It was for this that he was blamed and shamed by the one person he'd most overlooked, whose opinion had gone from utterly inconsequential to being of utmost importance.

Nie Huaisang.

Even with the certainty of those future memories, Lan Xichen half wanted to laugh at the idea that Nie Huaisang could ever harm anyone.

It wasn't that Lan Xichen looked down on the younger boy, and more that he didn't pay enough attention to him to feel anything about him. Nie Huaisang was foolish, lazy, and spoiled, three things Nie Mingjue frequently complained about even though he had his share of responsibility in that, being the one who did most of the spoiling. Aside from that… Lan Xichen future memories told him that Nie Huaisang was, or would be, an artist of some skill, and that was the only compliment he would have been able to pay him, for the longest time.

Nie Huaisang would also be a cold, ruthless man ready to risk countless lives for revenge, one who would grow to hate Lan Xichen, one who would let him stand beside a murderer for a decade because he suspected him of being an accomplice. One who would tell him…

Lan Xichen found himself nearly choking again, the memories overwhelming him once more. He had to painfully force each breath in, then out again, until his body remembered how to do it.

Nie Huaisang, if pushed to it, would turn into a terrifying man. But at present, he was still just a foolish and innocent boy, so if Lan Xichen made an effort, surely he had time to make Nie Huaisang see that he could be trusted in a crisis.

Of course the plan was to avoid the crisis in question. Nie Mingjue couldn't be allowed to die, not when he was Lan Xichen's dearest friend, not when his death would have been so cruel and unjust. Lan Xichen, who now knew too much about certain people, felt certain he could change this terrible future he had foreseen. Still, just in case, it wouldn't hurt to get Nie Huaisang on his side.

It wouldn't be fun, but it might turn out useful someday.

The first thing Lan Xichen did, once he had decided on a course of action, was to head for Lan Qiren's office and ask his uncle whether it might not be prudent to have copies of the books in their library, at the very least those most unique or precious. That library would burn someday, and it was something his future self would always regret, even if this at least really hadn’t been his fault.

Lan Qiren blinked at him like a startled owl. Lan Xichen almost laughed, and then nearly cried, hit by the sudden realisation that his uncle was roughly the same age he would be when the truth about Nie Mingjue’s death would be revealed, if not a little younger. He tried to hide it with that beard of his, and the difference in generation had made it less obvious to his nephews, but Lan Qiren wasn’t old at all. He must have been so young when he started caring for his nephews.

“Why would we need copies?” Lan Qiren asked. “The chances of two books being needed at the same time are low, and patience is a good quality to practice."

Lan Xichen bit his lip, trying to find an explanation that wouldn't bring forth too many questions. Before he could, his uncle spoke again.

"That dream last night wasn't just a normal nightmare," Lan Qiren guessed. "Your spiritual energy wasn't circulating right, I thought it might have been a qi deviation, but… did you see something instead?"

"Something terrible is coming," Lan Xichen confirmed. After a brief hesitation, he added: "The Wens are looking to start a war. They will start it, given half a chance. We have two years, more or less."

Lan Qiren looked shaken by the news, but not particularly surprised as such.

"They will attack us? Here?"

Lan Xichen nodded. "The library will burn, and other parts of the Cloud Recesses as well."

Habitations, a few classrooms, part of the training grounds… but the true loss was really the library, the heart of their sect, the source of so much knowledge.

Lan Qiren was silent for a while, weighing their options.

"If we take direct action to make duplicates, it will call attention to us, and draw the Wen's suspicions. I will start making copies of precious texts myself, along with others I can trust. For less sensitive documents, I will assign their copies to disciples in need of punishment. It will be educational for them, useful for us."

"I'll help as well," Lan Xichen offered.

"I expected you would volunteer,” his uncle said with a thin smile. “Was there anything else to that vision you had?"

Lan Xichen hesitated.

He thought of that boy he had yet to meet, Wei Wuxian, who would raise the dead and use them as deadly weapons, sowing death and destruction around him, all because he'd sacrificed everything for his beloved shidi.

He thought of Lan Wangji with his back shredded by the discipline whips, weakened to the point he nearly died, yet unrepentant.

He thought of the Lotus Piers slaughtered, of Nie Mingjue dead, of his own guilt driving him to withdraw from the world.

He thought of Nie Huaisang, going from overlooked little idiot to becoming the most dangerous man in the cultivation world.

"No, uncle," Lan Xichen said. "There was nothing more."

At least, nothing that he should burden his uncle with, when he already dealt with so much.

Let Lan Qiren save the library, and Lan Xichen would find a way to solve the rest.

In spite of preparations for the upcoming new batch of guest disciples, Lan Xichen found time to start copying some treaties. It was not easy work when no mistake could be tolerated, but that difficulty was actually welcome. It helped him be more tired, and being truly exhausted was the only way he could fall asleep since that vision of the future.

Contrary to his expectations, the vision hadn't faded with time as a true dream would have. Instead it melted into his own memories, manifesting as a particularly vivid series of déjà-vu. Much like true memories, Lan Xichen found he couldn't actually remember every single detail of every moment. Unless he had been paying attention when those future memories formed, then he remembered as little as he might recall what he'd had for breakfast on a specific day five months earlier.

So when the Nie juniors arrived, a few days earlier than expected, Lan Xichen wasn't surprised. His other self had been annoyed by this interruption to everyone's schedule, but now Lan Xichen was just curious to meet Nie Huaisang again, knowing what he was capable of. When Lan Qiren asked him to come greet those Nie disciples, Lan Xichen agreed very quickly.

Because of the long climb up the mountain, because his cultivation was so poor and his general capacity so low, Nie Huaisang was breathless and sweaty when he arrived at the gate of the Cloud Recesses. Combined with his short height and his frail stature, it made for a sharp contrast with the disciples accompanying him. Lan Xichen just couldn’t imagine anyone less scary than this boy who chatted rather too easily with Lan Qiren, disregarding the difference in age and capacity between them. Nie Huaisang really had little to show for himself. He wasn’t even particularly good-looking presently, though he would become surprisingly handsome in due time.

Nie Huaisang would become many things, over the years.

As Lan Qiren guided the Nie disciples toward the house that would be theirs for the duration of their stay in the Cloud Recesses, Lan Xichen watched Nie Huaisang attentively, trying to catch some sign of the sharp and cruel man he was destined to become someday. But there was just nothing, no hint of coldness, no particular cunning.

Nothing at all until…

“I’d love a tour of the Cloud Recesses!” Nie Huaisang excitedly asked, looking directly at Lan Xichen. “Lan gongzi, would you please give me a tour? I’m sure there’s no one who could do it better than you.”

Lan Xichen shivered. He didn’t think this had happened in the future he remembered… or could it be that his future self hadn’t committed such a thing to memory? He would have had no reason to, never guessing how important his interactions with Nie Huaisang would turn out to be. Quite possibly, he had just refused that request, busy with other things.

Lan Xichen tried to refuse, in fact, but Nie Huaisang was insistent enough that to deny him any further would have made him a bad host. Worse, it might have attracted questions from his uncle, who might have suspected that Lan Xichen hadn’t told him everything he’d seen in his nightmare. Besides, Lan Xichen had already determined he would make efforts to earn Nie Huaisang’s trust so the future wouldn’t repeat itself, so why not start immediately?

When the time came for it, the tour went rather better than Lan Xichen might have expected. Nie Huaisang was surprisingly attentive to what was explained to him about the Cloud Recesses, which went against what previous encounters and those future memories had established. But no, that was unfair, Lan Xichen realised. Nie Huaisang, right from the start, had always been quite curious about those very few things that interested him.

It was just surprising that the Cloud Recesses would fall in that category.

By the time Nie Huaisang asked about things to do for fun, Lan Xichen had relaxed a little, and even boldly suggested that the younger boy might be interested in trying new things, even musical cultivation if he wished. He felt quite confident that whatever had happened in that other future, he could easily avoid it. All he had to do was keep Nie Mingjue safe, keep Nie Huaisang happy, and everything would be…

“I do like music a lot,” Nie Huaisang said pensively. “My father used to say I have a good ear for it. Not like da-ge. He wouldn’t know one melody from another even if his life depended on it!”

Lan Xichen froze.

He could just see Nie Mingjue, in prey to a killing rage that only stopped with his own death. Nie Mingjue’s body, headless, desecrated, cut to pieces and held together only through sheer rage and red thread that his little brother had sewn into his flesh. And that melody, that twisted mockery of a Lan healing song…

Lan Xichen shivered at the moment, suddenly nearly as breathless as he had been when waking up from that nightmare.

But he had been well trained, and when he noticed Nie Huaisang’s worry, Lan Xichen pulled himself back together, forcing himself to smile and chat amicably in spite of the specter of a pain he refused to ever feel again.

This time, he would make sure no one he loved died because of his mistakes.

#xisang #lan xichen #nie huaisang #lan qiren #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel #lxc is having a very unpleasant time for a change

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 4 years

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Stingray Merman (Kairius)

There is something about stingrays - or sea pancakes - that are very cute, so I wrote a stingray merman that was supposed to of been done during the month of May for Mermay! Oh well! Stingrays are very curious creatures, and so is this adorable boi. Enjoy!

Male monster x GN reader

A Curious Encounter

The storm had been troublesome, you had realised now: the dreary morning you had come out to walk along your beach was the proof that somethings were left in tatters; the storm of the season that had ruined everything in its path.

You walked through the dampened sands in your sneakers, a well-needed precaution you had decided in choosing carefully had the aftermath been calmer. The coastline had been strong in taking the storm for the entire night, but now, it was rather captivating seeing the wreckage.

You walked down from the short incline of rocks and descended further down to see the beach you had been coming to since you had been young. The shore was weak and fragile; debris and waste that had been swept ashore; a tragic sight indeed.

In the ruin, the shore was littered in aggregational carnage; the sea had brought forth some animals big and small, most of them lost to the wreckage. Your heart ached with those animals and creatures, had you been able to save them, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat.

The sand was troublesome in getting out of your shoes, but the feeling of it you didn’t mind really: had you the time, you would perhaps spend as much time helping to clear up with the locals, or even try and find some shells for your younger cousin, Evie - an avid and caring animal lover like you, she would’ve been overwhelmed at this all.

Let’s hope some of it had been cleared by the afternoon. I don’t think any child shall want to see this. You mourned drearily, moving off from the site as you moved away further to a secluded area - the area where the land dipped and gave you great access to the views of the sea, watching the water roar beneath you in its glory.

The rockpools had all sorts of creatures that you loved trying to find when you had been young, and you had taken Evie with you to find all sorts of things that had been washed up: a four-limbed starfish that made Evie squeal, part of an earring that you made a story of it belonging to a rich 17th pirate, shells of all colours and shapes.

You hopped along the rocks, carefully descending to where the cliffs reached high and the walls surrounded below if you wanted utter privacy or peace. Below, the waves crashed back and forth, as if angry for the loss of life too that had been taken. Carefully, you listened in, feeling how you calmed with being around the waters, in the blacked sands, watching the world go past around you-

There was a splashing sound that reverberated and bounced off not too close from you, too human that made you doubt it could be anyone out there. People came to this beach - there was no question about that - but it was way too early in the morning for visitors. No children or people came out here this early to explore - you had known this for years.

The splashing maintained, as if someone was trying to get out a bathtub and the water and spraying and going everywhere, swaying, it brought you to come closer, following the noise, bracing the walls as you found yourself coming into the clearing of where most of the largest rockpools where.

The walls were sable and solid matte in colour, shining off they cast the opposite colours of the gloomy sky above; the waters rippling and tranquil.

You scanned each pool from where you could see, believing that your hearing had made you hear something that couldn't be there, the waves tricking you. As you turned once more to leave, the sound came from behind you, coming from the furthest one from you; as if begging for you to come to investigate.

You were careful in trying not to fall in, the rock edges were slippery with matter and it made walking across with some trouble, but you had managed to get to the furthest pool, checking each one but finding nothing of importance.

The sound grew louder, almost frantic of hearing you coming closer until you were standing over the edge, staring back to the sharp outline of a creature frantically trying to pull themselves out.

Their back was towards you as if this creature hadn’t seen you there yet, frantically trying to flap out of the waters to get themselves free. An eagle ray was common here, but when did stingrays of any type have humanoid arms?

You watched with awe and shock as you watched the humanoid creature tried desperately to get out, gripping in might at the rocks, trying to haul their heavy lower part out of the shallow water. When you lingered long enough on where their figure was in the water, their stingray body merged with their lithe and ghostly human skin, their back dotted in whites and pale blues, a spine trailing down the middle of their back down to their tail and caudal fin.

You could see that the poor thing had its arms and fins were connected, meaning it had much more trouble trying to pull up compared to if their parts were not connected.

You hadn’t of meant to catch the creature off guard, but the sound of shock that had left your mouth had made the half-humanoid spin in the water to stare up at you, the most human pair of eyes staring back at you; utterly terrified.

The face resembled any man you had seen before, but the sides of their neck had slits that opened and gaped with every passing second that the two of you stared at one another. The stingray was male you could tell from the features: his short hair falling over his face, cobalt in colour and wavy in texture from either being out of the water or just natural, his eyes were large and wide, which held some curiosity as they looked you over; a blue hue that blended hazel in the inner ring.

With sharp cheekbones, pointed ears and a startling appearance, he was maybe the most beautiful creature you had ever seen before.

Your gawking had brought a pitiful cry to come from their lips, leaving your heart to ache even further for the seconds you watched him fail to break out his watery prison, backing as far as he could into the corner to get away from you.

“No, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” Your voice was soft and nurturing, trying to ease the merman into calming down and to make your presence less terrifying to him. He continued to stare up at you, his eyes taking you in, and you didn’t know whether he could understand you or not, but his beautiful haunting eyes made you believe he could.

His webbed fingers released the rocks he was holding onto for safety, his mouth opening and closing briefly.

“You... you won’t?” His voice was quiet and peaceful, softly he spoke with a tinge of an accent that you couldn’t put down were from, but he was still stunning nonetheless. You stared further, nodding your head. “Of course, I’ll try my best. I-- How did you get in here?”

It was a stupid question: of course, the storm swept him in, but your mind was doing somersaults and your words had gone to mush to form proper questions.

“The storm,” his voice wavered for a second, his eyes watery as if he was going to burst into tears any second, “the storm washed me here. I-I got too close to the shore, I was too curious, and it pulled me away.”

“Curious?” You asked.

“Curious, of the land.” He seemed ashamed by this, his soft porcelain skin tinged a blue in blush across his cheeks as he looked away timidly. “It’s okay, I’m going to get you out of here.” You promised with a reassuring smile.

His caudal barbed fin swayed with him and his demeanour and eyes lit up at your words, and suddenly, he was smiling! It was a sharp one too: broad as he beamed up to you, the sight so wonderful. “You will! You’ll help me?” His voice picked up in pace and pitch as he excitedly circled to come closer to you. Your cheeks flushed at the sight, so adorable you thought he looked, it was certainly a better sight than to see him woeful.

You squatted over the edge, looking over his appearance: he seemed waifish and skinny, with a visible ribcage that showed that he wasn’t very big for his kind. His skin in areas around his arms were bruised and reddened from perhaps trying to climb out, but he overall looked okay.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

The merman grinned broadly, happy that you had asked him, “It’s Kairius.” You told him yours, your name was whispered along the wind by his soft voice; delicately did he say your name with such tenderness.

Kairius - or Kai for short since you had difficulty pronouncing his name - was quick to show his intent curiosity in humans and you, as when you neared to come to the back of him, his agile fingers came up in a swift move, coming to wrap around your ankle delicately.

“Wow.” he murmured to himself, marvelling at your skin and legs, touching, stroking and prodding at areas you hadn’t ever seen before, your nervousness and timidness for being touched in that way almost got you toppling over with him. “Hey, careful!”

His skin on his fingers was clammy from the water, squidgy in texture and soft, but the feeling of his grip around you had loosened, as he gave a timid smile back to you. “Sorry, I just,” he corrected himself, his cheeks flushed, “humans are just so... pretty.”

Your blushed deepened as you caught Kai off with your nervous laughter. “You can check it out when I get you out of here, okay?” Kairius nodded enthusiastically, waiting for you to engage in your next plan.

Your thought was maybe having to use something to pull him out using a pulley system that you could wrap around his waist. But you didn’t have rope, and you were certain none was lying around.

You got an idea, unzipping your hoodie, feeling the immediate chill that had cast along your arms, your skin had raised with goosebumps from the sudden dip in the weather.

The bite was chilling, it sent chills down your spine, goosebumps rising from a horror movie along your skin and soon enough, it was terribly bitter. You hung the sleeve below to Kai, smiling down to him with a simple request. “Do you mind tying this around your waist?”

Kairius smiled and obliged, clever enough to wrap the sleeve about his waist, the sleeve was long enough to go around his waifish torso, the rest of it drooped behind him, his fist clenched around the ball to keep it taut to him.

You grabbed around the limp sleeve that dragged through the water surface, gently you pulled it up, holding it to you, beginning the process of pulling the merman out. The water splashed and waded through his body, his barbed fin wiggled wildly over the surface of the water when you pulled it close to you, feeling the material stretch and wear out. You prayed that it would rip too soon, or else you would have to start over with another plan.

The water sprayed everywhere and the gap between you, the ledge and him were not too far, but you had initially wondered how deep the water had been - or lack of depth at all. It looked more like a kiddy pool than one that could keep a long merman trapped.

There was a grunt that came from you, the higher you pulled and heaved the stingray merman up, closer and closer, his freedom was calling to him and the relief to have him out too was so close; you could almost taste it.

Your back was aching, your fingers burning with the familiar feeling to rope burn but you remained determined to get him out in one piece, regardless of having sore joints. He was very close to you now, and when you grabbed him yourself by the narrow part of his waist, you were surprised to feel at his ribs, his skin the feel of soft leather, sleek like a dolphin hide.

You had gotten him out in one piece, but his skin was twitching, as if it was breathing on its own and had come to life, the skin had become twisted and withered, his flesh looked starved to the bone from being a few metres out of the water.

The most hideous noise came from his lips, the sound a dying animal would make when gasping for breath, a hoarse cry from the back of his throat that made you stop dead in your tracks, realising what was happening.

“Ah, crap.” You moved with clockwork precision, (or what you thought was that) moving backwards with him still in your arms, hurrying to the one place that could give him his freedom and save him truly.

The ledge off of the shoreline and cliff couldn’t be that high, could it?

There were no questions, only answers, it was surely not that high that it could kill him, but you didn’t know how his stingray body would react to falling from a height compared to a human who could dive off. You had seen humans jump off of this ledge countless times, not a merman.

There was no time to doubt, and with some heaving, the hesitation couldn’t wait, his heavy, long body was thrown over your shoulder, falling like a limp doll into the waters below; making your predictions carry over whether or not he would survive when his body hit the water.

There was a splash and a shudder from you, watching over the ledge to see any moment, anybody, and you waited, your heart doing flips - had I killed him truly? You had promised him his freedom and you had killed him all the same, like how humans could be cruel nonetheless, you had murdered one by accident.

You had hoped no one was around to see a giant man-size stingray falling from a height into the water below when you reached the caves below, running along to reach the edge of the cave mouth, watching on with the bubbles that rose through the opaque water.

The bubbles rose and rose, like ash in a rising volcano they spluttered and popped, growing in the many when finally there was a breach in the surface, the first thing you saw was the head of Kai, his beaming broad smile reaching ear to ear, as he gracefully swam with ease over to you. Thankfully, he didn’t look angry that you had dropped him into the water.

His swim was the equivalent to an Olympic swimmer doing the butterfly style but a lot better and more agile in fluidity, his arms moved as he glided through the water towards you until he was there, floating just inches from you.

“You saved me, thank you.” He was grinning so proudly and his smile was the prettiest thing you had seen, the blush had reddened on your cheeks at the sight, the merman drifting as if he had suddenly recalled something. “I’ll be back! I promise! Stay there!” And with that, the merman had disappeared within the murky waters of the black rush, vanishing like a ghost within the air.

You didn’t have to wait long for him to return once more, leaping out of the water to startle you not on purpose, his fins attached to his arms flapping, water going everywhere and dampening your shoes as he pulled himself to get support; a toothy grin still present on his face when he presented you his gift.

He pressed the shell into your palm and your eyes brightened up across your face at the sight: the inside was as if a rainbow and star had collided, its hue a stunning chrome spectrum of pinks, gold and blues - like stardust caught and stored for eternity.

“Do you like it?” Kairius leant closer into you, his eyes observing and drifting back and forth to your reaction and the shell. You nodded, “It’s beautiful,” you smiled at him, holding the shell close to you, “thank you.”

Kairius smiled broadly, pride obvious on his face when he relaxed beside you, the two of you caught in a conversation about your lives and cultures, amazed at his world below and how his story was incredible to hear.

You promised one another you would meet again, and you did almost every day: you had watched the beach be cleaned up since the storm, helping on days as much as you could when you weren’t busy, but they days had been spent in the little cave, sitting and waiting for your close friend.

This day he had come early to see you, and the promise you had given him those weeks ago couldn’t be broken: that was how you were found with him, Kai in-between your legs could’ve been such a sensual concept, but the true reasonings were much tender.

The water slipped through your jeans, even when you had rolled them up as far as you could, but it was cooling and gave you tranquillity with the lower part of your body submerged.

“Are you sure?” There was hesitation in his voice, his voice wavered, his blue eyes had dilated as he took you in, looking over your features to see if you were comfortable with what he was going to do.

“It’s fine, Kai,” you reassured him enthusiastically, and it had calmed him greatly that he knew you were okay with this. With a hesitant hand, it came up to the side of your face, and ever so gently, using the back of his fingers, traced and stroked the length of your cheek, done towards your chin; marvelling at your flesh.

His fingers were ever so careful, you watched up close how tentative and the look of concentration and marvel he had at looking over everything in such fine detail, to look at the differences between human and mer, and he had a willing participant.

His hand had been on the other side of the matte sable rock, trying to keep it steady close to you as his other hand had kept him occupied, his body jutting forward suddenly as if he had lost grip of it and had accidentally slipped. You knew that he would’ve been more likely to be clumsy to his joints and the fins connected, but you had known that you would’ve had to keep him upright.

Your legs instinctively came to wrap around his waist, steadying him before he could crash and knock his head either on the rock or knock heads with you, but his head had still stilled just inches from yours from the action, the realisation came to both of you, neither of you sure how to react.

“I only heard stories of humans,” Kai began, his Adam's apple bobbing with his words, “not many mer had gotten into contact with them, but the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve were much more comely than I had ever imagined.”

Your body gave an involuntary shudder that reacted positively to his words, your mouth agape as he continued to speak. “I had hoped that you had been able to take my gift and enjoy it, I wanted it to mean a lot to you in how you saw it-- how I saw you.”

“How do you see me, Kai?” Your heart was racing by now.

Kairius gave a loving smile, his fingers came to touch at your face once more, evaluating you, “I don’t just see you as a human, but as my mate.”

Mate. The word was an odd one to you, but the feeling that swelled in your chest was euphoric, it breathed anew in your body and blinded your soul. It was terrifyingly beautiful.

“Kai-” “-You don’t have to say yes, I know it is quite a lot. Us mer mate for life and a human and merman relationship is something I’m wary of the reaction my family and kind would have.” He looked to his skin, the flesh he was made up of, it brought his face to frown in disappointment; defeated.

“I’m sorry I put this on you-- I should go.” He went to move off, to leave, but you had already taken his hand back, gently putting it back to the side of your face, staring into his quizzical eyes. “You can’t leave yet, not without hearing what I think.”

His head tilted, eyes trained on you as you confessed, “Yes, I understand how it would be difficult for reactions, but… I would want to give it a try, to delve into the unknown - wouldn’t you?”

His face brightened, eyes so wide you were afraid they would bulge out of his head. Without any warning or hesitation, Kairius had lifted you up and out off the ledge and taken you into the water, spinning you around in his arms whilst you squealed, holding on for dear life!

“You say yes? That makes me so happy! Ooh, I can’t wait to show you the shells I found for you, they’re -- what colours do you like? I can ask my friends over their mates-”

You had silenced him with your lips, his words muffled against your own, his eyes widened in surprise before he had wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing you back. His lips were damp and cold, but they were soft and delicate, his kiss was tentative and caring.

When you had pulled away, his face was blushed to the max, his face washed blue, looking as if he was down with hypothermia. He gave you a dreamy look, a small smile had adorned his face.

When you had pulled away, his face was blushed to the max, his face washed blue, looking as if he was down with hypothermia. He gave you a dreamy look, a small smile had adorned his face. You kissed at his skin, the smoothness against your lips was calming, peppering his face with hundreds of kisses.

“I think a shell will do, but don’t worry, you’re the best thing I could have in this world.”

#stingray merman #merman #merman oc #merman lover #mermaid au #merman x reader #merman x gn reader #monster x gn reader #gn reader x male monster #male monster #male monster x reader #exophilia #monster story #monster lover #monster exophilia #merman exophilia #stingray merman oc

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peachy-beomie · 3 years

Text

Fellas, is it Gay to Kiss The Homies? <TEN-CENTRIC>

Genre: Light Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Kunten (Qian Kun x Ten Lee) and implied (Ten x Everyone) [ALL SHIPS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PLATONIC]

Word Count: 1455

Warnings: Fluff overdose, might give you diabetes /t

Synopsis: Ten just really likes kisses and he wants to give them to his friends. That’s it.

A/N: I wrote this wanting it to be Platonic!Kunten but tbh it may have gotten away from me a little bit so believe what you want ig

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30021543

Ten has always been overly affectionate. In the eyes of Weishennies, Winwin and Yangyang bear the brunt of it. On variety shows and lives Ten can sometimes be found floating around one of his two didis or entirely attached to them. It’s become a joke among fans and members, the way Ten calls Yangyang baby while the maknae responds with countless protests and whines. But something fans are unaware of is that off-camera, the Thai male’s affection extends to all the members. Ten is known to demand touches from most any friend in reach. Even Kun, despite the pairs’ constant bickering. The WayV members have grown used to Ten’s insatiable need to hold and be held. There’s a silent understanding between the 7 roommates. All the boys know that comforting Ten is just more of a physical thing. Each member understands, and some have even become fond of the actions. Most surprisingly Winwin. Though he seems like a total skinship anti, he’s all smiles whenever Ten envelopes him in a hug.

For the endless love and acceptance of his bandmates, Ten feels so incredibly blessed. But even in such a wonderful situation, there are things Ten can’t have. And lines he dare not cross.

To Ten, there’s nothing inherently romantic or sexual about his lingering touches. To him, spooning with his friends is his way of showing platonic affection. Obviously some things are reserved for romantic/sexual partners: making out and things of the like. But the lines between friendship and partnership are far thinner to him than most. He hasn’t told his friends about his affinity for kisses, having only recently come to terms with it himself. All through his life he’s had these fleeting urges to kiss his friends, and he’d always passed them off as intrusive thoughts. But lately, these urges have become more persistent. When his members are especially kind to him, he feels his attention float briefly to their lips, wishing to give them a small peck. It’s always a peck. A forehead kiss, eskimo, cheek, knuckle, nose; always something innocent. A mere grazing of lips to skin. No matter how innocent the intent or the action, Ten can’t help but feel completely and utterly ashamed.

Friends aren’t supposed to want to kiss each other, he chides to himself. The dancer already feels like enough of a bother asking to cuddle and hold hands, he fears that by taking the extra step, he’ll lose all 6 of them entirely. So he pushes these feelings deep down, and continues on, hoping the others don’t notice his worry.

Unfortunately for Ten, Kun prides himself on being in tune with his members’ emotions. Kun first realizes something is wrong during one of the group’s rare off days. He and Ten had opted to stay home, the younger practically BEGGING him to continue watching Doctor Who with him. The two eldest boys have been watching it together for a couple months, and have already plowed through 2 seasons (that’s quite impressive considering how packed their schedules are). Since it’s nearly impossible to refuse Ten anything, Kun finds himself lazing the day away on the couch, carding his fingers through the soft brown locks strewn across his lap.

“Fuck. Everything,” Ten says after they finish the season 2 finale. “Whoever made this episode is a monster.”

Kun giggles, leaning down to wipe stray tears from Ten’s cheeks. “You knew it had to end eventually Tennie.”

“YEAH BUT THAT WAS SO M E A N!” Ten removes his head from Kun’s lap as the older laughs harder. “It’s not funny!” The Thai man pouts, only eliciting more laughter.

“Aw you poor thing,” Kun teases, pushing himself off the couch and holding a expectant hand out to the pouting brunette. “C’mon you big baby. Let me make you something to cheer you up.”

Never one to turn down free food, Ten trudges to the kitchen and sits down at the table while his ge gets to work. Ten watches Kun work for 15 minutes before turning to the table and placing a bowl of noodles in front of Ten. The younger looks up at the singer then, an almost indecipherable look on his face. In those few seconds of silence, Kun sees hesitation in Ten’s eyes, an uncharacteristic moment of pause. It’s like Ten wants to do something but he’s restraining himself. Then all too quickly, the look is gone. Ten thanks Kun for the meal before scarfing it down.

Kun doesn’t bring it up then, or when he sees the same look directed at Hendery the next night while they’re playing Monopoly. He waits a week before finally confronting the boy, having seen the same hesitant gaze 5 or more times by now.

He decided to confront him after their biweekly Just Dance tournament. Kun and Ten were on a team together and kicking everyone else’s asses. After winning their 4th consecutive battle they’d hugged victoriously. When they pulled back, Ten had “the look” written all over his face. And without warning, he pecked Kun on the nose.

Oh.

Ten stood straight in horror, he didn’t even give Kun a chance to say anything before bolting out of the room. The 5 other members followed him with eyes full of worry and concern. They’re only semi-placated with Kun’s promise of “I’ll talk to him.”

Kun opened the door to Ten and Hendery’s shared room to see Ten facing the wall dejectedly, curled tightly into his blankets. The older made sure he moved softly and quietly, not wanting to spook the boy. He sat himself on the bed across from Ten’s huddled figure, not missing the other boy’s flinch. Kun lays down behind the boy, wrapping his arms around his middle.

“I’m not mad Yongqin, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Kun uses Ten’s Mandarin name, knowing the younger loves the way it rolls off his tongue. “I just want to understand, ok?” The older rubs soothing circles on Ten’s arm with his finger.

“I’m sorry,” Ten whispers, almost imperceptibly quiet.

“Qinqin I told you there’s nothing to be s--”

“No but I am sorry,” Ten says, turning himself in Kun’s hold to face the older, but still not making eye contact. “I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I could tell it was bothering you.” Kun says, raising the eyebrow of the dancer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kun confirms. “So do you have a crush on me?”

“Not at all,” Ten says honestly. He fiddles with his fingers between their parallel chests rather than meet Kun’s gaze. “I just… hhh I don’t know how to begin to explain it.”

“Take your time.” Kun assures which Ten is exceedingly grateful for. Kun has always been patient and level-headed that way.

“It’s kinda like… you know how you hug your friends? To show them you care about them?” Kun nods easily. “Well, for me… kissing is kinda equivalent to a hug with a friend. It’s just...my way of showing affection I guess,” Kun nods again, taking in every word Ten says. “It became apparent a few months ago. But I didn’t want to bother you guys with it, so I kept quiet. And I know it’s weird and it’s really no big deal if you don’t want to I can--”

“Ten.”

“Yeah, It’s too much isn’t it? Can we just pretend this never happened? I’m really sor--”

“Ten.”

“Look Kun don’t worry about it. It’s really fine. I just want to--”

“Yongqin.”

Ten finally ceases his baseless ranting. Kun rubs up and down the boy’s upper arms.

“Ten it’s fine. I never said I disliked it. If platonic kisses are something you want… something you need,” Kun smiles lightly. “Then I don’t see a problem with that.”

This time Ten actually does look Kun in the eye, cat-like eyes wide with disbelief. “What?”

“Just explain to me what you need Yongqin,” Kun whispers understandingly, and for some reason it makes Ten blush a little. “I’m all ears.”

Ten was left completely dumbfounded. He had just proposed something… crazy.... and yet Kun isn’t running. He doesn’t seem weirded out, or scared, or disgusted. He’s still there.

“U-um…” Ten starts. “Just… small ones, I guess. Like cheek, nose, knuckles, forehead, hair, that kind of stuff,” Kun processes all this again. “A-and pecks on the lips are nice sometimes… i-if that’s not too much.”

Kun shakes his head and smiles, “Sounds good to me!” And to punctuate it, he places a small kiss on Ten’s forehead, setting the boy’s cheeks aflame once more.

“T-Thanks,” He says genuinely.

“Of course Tenten,” The older contemplates giving him another kiss for assurance, but he decides that he shouldn’t overwhelm Ten too much just yet. “Anything for you.”

KUNTEN PIC OF THE DAY:

I call this one: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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alietohelpyouseethetruth · 3 years

Text

Where do I even begin.

My best friend and I bonded over a English band called Hurts. By that I mean she did not like me but then found out I was the only other person she knew who listened to them and gave me a chance. She has become one of the most important people in my life and has helped me more than another human should ever be expected to help someone. And she loves me now because I am super cool. That band has a been a fun and exciting note of our friendship, something that bonded us because it felt like it was only our thing. I know there are thousands of people listening around the world to this band but in my little world, it’s just me and her, it’s ours, and it is special.

This music video hurt my feelings.

I had just come out of a pretty severe depression, and I was still pretty fragile. My friend came over after going to therapy with me (yeah, we’re that close) and we chilled out and watched Hurts music videos like we do every so often to celebrate the blossoming of our unlikely friendship. Neither of us had kept up with the band super well so we hadn’t seen this one yet. It absolutely floored me. As soon as it was over I replayed it. Wow.

Theo Hutchcraft said in an interview that this was the most honest song he had ever written. And it is so beautifully and bravely honest. It felt universal when I watched the video and listened to the lyrics, and yet it also felt very personal, like he wrote it for me to hear so I would feel understood.

Lyrically the song is pretty simple and that is the way to write a depression song. There is a place for fantastical words and poetry, but when you are trying to communicate so big, the best way to do it is to take the big thing and condense it into something simple. That is what is most powerful. That is how it is best understood, and more importantly felt.

It broke my heart to hear it, to know that he was feeling like this. That single emotion he captured and built around, “It might not be good enough, but it’s all I have to give,” is so universally felt. It really gives insight into where he was at in the feeling of being depressed, not the beginning when you’re ashamed and trying to deny it, not the middle where you feel sorry for yourself and indulge in feeling sick and self-destructive, but the end. The part where you come to realize this is who you are. This is what it is. This is all you’ve got. You look in the mirror and realize that you can’t hide from it.

“The walls are closing in” is a line that might easily be ignored, but it really sets the tone and helps people see from the outside how strong the effect the sickness can have on your mind. You feel like its all coming down around you, even when the room is still. I also really appreciate the underlying positivity and hope that he has weaved into it, lines like “make the best of the state I am in”, “I don’t know why I’m hiding from the truth”, and “I’m destined to suffer until I discover the reasons I’m afraid”, that make you feel like he is ready to look into getting help.

The video itself (spoiler alert) is so phenomenal in the message it communicates because it shows Theo beaten, broken, in a dirty bathroom trying to recover from a open wound. That is the drama we want to see as consumers. We want the blood and the shaky breaths to communicate to us the intensity of the emotion. We want it to look big and dramatic. But that’s not what it’s like. That’s not what depression is. There’s no production to it, but it is just as painful as bleeding out alone in a public bathroom. As the video progresses and the illusion breaks down, with people taking down the set and even removing the bandage to show there’s no wound, it brings that I’m-about-to-die-alone-in-a-gas-station feeling into reality. Theo really brings it home, standing there shirtless at the end of the video, not stylized to be sexy, but just exposed. This is what it is. This is what it looks like. As he sings the last verse he can’t even look directly into the camera, because the shame of being that honest in that state can be so overpowering. It was so genius the way he was able to take the pain and intensity of the feelings, and show them to us, and then slowly break them down, showing that such strong feelings can be so easily hidden behind a pretty average expression.

Bro if you relate to this song please get help because you deserve to not feel like that.

Another thing I love is the notion that even in this broken state, Theo still wants to give. He still wants to “be there for his brother and strong for his mother,” he still wants to connect with others and help even in that state. He writes that he’s pushing his friends away and keeping things from his mother not because he doesn’t want to be close, but because he knows the intense pain he feels will hurt them too and he wants to protect them. That feeling of “you may be right…I never open up, but this is all I have to give,” that feeling when you don’t even feel like you have the inner strength to ask for help, and there’s a part of you begging that this version of you is enough for the ones you love.

Depression isn’t beautiful. Theo and Adam mentioned in an interview that they weren’t really able to be creative in that state. It didn’t inspire them, it suffocated them, and it wasn’t until it lessened that they were able to express it. Depression isn’t beautiful. It’s not fun being heartbroken. It’s not glamorous to grieve. So why do we write about it? Why do we turn it into art? I think it is of course because we are seeking to be understood, to express ourself, to connect with others. But there is also something empowering about taking something like this, something with no joy, no pleasure, and turning it into something that is beautiful. You took something awful and made something good with it. You took a negative and squeezed out some little ounce of positivity. That is what it means to be human.

Anyway here are the lyrics in case you don’t feel like googling

You're staring in the mirror

Watching as the walls are closing in

A shadow of a figure

Tryna make the best of this state that I am in

I guess I could do with the friends

I've been pushing away

But I'm destined to suffer

Until I discover he reasons I'm afraid

God knows I try

It might not be good enough

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give

You might be right, sometimes

I never open up

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give

You're staring in the mirror

Picturing the face of a younger man

He buries it away

'Cause he's gotta try and cope in a way he understand

Be there for your brother

And strong for your mother again

'Cause he's too young to get it and she'll get upset

If she knows you feel the pain

God knows I try

It might not be good enough

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give

You might be right, sometimes

I'm too scared to open up

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give to you

I tell myself there's nothing left to lose

I don't know why I'm hiding from the truth

I face myself and all I see is you

Is you

You're staring in the mirror

Watching as the walls are closing in

But God knows I try (God knows)

It might not be good enough (might not be good enough)

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give

You might be right, sometimes

I'm too scared to open up

But it's all I have to give

This is all I have to give to you

To you

This is all I have to give

youtube

#hurts #songwriting #lyrics #music videos #allihavetogive #allihavetogivehurts #allihavetogivemusicvideo #depression #helladepression #supersadmusic #theo hutchcraft #adam anderson #rambleingsofagirlwithtoomanyfeelings #art #ART!#yeah #Youtube

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calebdumes · 3 years

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I wrote a lil something at work again. (I promise, I do actually do my job) It fits in with my last Inquisitor!Kanan thing that I wrote. Took some liberties and fudged the timeline in the Kanan comic but I just wanted some Kanan and Ahsoka jedi friendship stuff so this with what I did. Again, I don’t know if it’s going to go anywhere but it sure helps the day go by. Anywho, I’d love to know what you think!

Fandom: Star Wars: Rebels

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.7K

Exhaustion pulled at Ahsoka as she and Hera made their way down the long corridor of Phoenix Home. The loud klaxon of the security alarm had finally been silenced but she could still feel the vibrations echoing through the tips of her montrals. Her arms felt like lead weights, her feet dragged on the scuffed floor but still she pushed on. The main threat might have been taken care of but there was still one left.

Hera didn't seem to be faring any better. Her green lekku hung slack against her head and her shoulders held a certain type of weariness that only came after battle. But like Ahsoka, her eyes were sharp with anticipation. She knew just as well that not everyone was accounted for.

Up ahead the blast doors leading to the brig were sealed shut. Ahsoka could feel the darkness creeping through the heavy durasteel doors, it's cold tendrils sliding off of her like oil making her shiver. Her hands reached for her lightsabers, their weight a comfort as she grew closer to the encroaching darkness.

Hera held her blaster close to her chest as she darted towards the door control. She looked at Ahsoka waiting for confirmation. Ahsoka took a brief moment to breathe deep and find her center. The darkside was thick here - it spoke of violence, of death. She didn't know what she would find behind the sealed door but she did know that what she did find wasn't going to be good.

Ahsoka nodded to Hera, igniting her lightsabers and holding them at the ready. The doors slid open with a silent hiss revealing a darkened hallway cast in the eerie red glow from the emergency lights. The normally pristine white of the walls were stained with blood and ichor. All around at their feet were the bodies of the inquisitors.

Beside her, Hera gagged, covering her mouth with one hand. Ahsoka could feel her own stomach revolt at the sight. But what drew her eye was the figure slouching against the wall. She picked her way over to him, stepping over severed limbs and discarded lightsabers.

The inquisitor was bloodied, dark hair matted with the thick substance. There was a nasty gash that ran down the length of his face, his sharp nose was broken and blood dribbled from his cracked lips. Ahsoka dragged her eyes down his dark uniform, catching on the way he held his middle protectively and the odd way his left leg was angled.

"Is he alive?" Hera asked. Her hope rang bright and true, cutting through the inky stench of the darkside. She wanted this inquisitor to live for some reason. In fact, she had been the only one standing in defense of the inquisitor when he had been brought onboard. Ahsoka had learned through her travels with the Ghost Crew, Hera always saw the good in people, even those as dark as an inquisitor.

And yet, there was a part of her that agreed with Hera. For some reason Ahsoka didn't quite understand, she wanted him to survive as well. There was something familiar about him, something she sensed under all that fear he wrapped around himself like armor that resonated within her. She crouched down near his body and placed two fingers against his throat feeling for a pulse. His strange blue green eyes snapped open at the contact.

"Easy". she said as calmly as she could. The Force swelled around her as the Inquisitor pulled it to his aid. It faltered moments later leaving the man panting in uneven, hitching breaths. "Easy."

There was a wild, glassy look to his eyes as they roamed aimlessly around the blood soaked hallway. Fever bright and hanging on the edge of oblivion. They came into focus as they landed on Hera and then Ahsoka herself.

"Tried-" he started, wincing as if words caused him physical pain. "Stop - them." The inquisitor struggled to form the words but his meaning was clear. The carnage that lay around them was his handiwork.

"I'd said you succeeded in that Inquisitor." she gestured to the destruction that was the hallway.

The inquisitor shook his head. "Not my n-"

Whatever he was trying to say was lost in his sharp gasp of pain. He removed the arm that was protecting his middle, revealing a deep gash that nearly bisected him. with a shaking hand he struggled to remove one of his thick gloves. Several of his fingers were broken, Ahsoka noticed as he held out his damaged hand looking at her pleadingly.

Cautiously she took the inquisitor's hand into her own and felt her mind ripped from her body.

She was standing in a training dojo, back at the Jedi temple, the white room glowing with sunlight. Ahsoka stood in awe for a moment, the familiar sights and smells of home flooding her senses. Even in the Inquisitors mind she could feel the energy of the Temple, the Force moving around her in a gentle current. Her heart ached.

In the center of the room there was a group of younglings sparring with wooden sabers. A boy, impossibly small and with a shock of dark hair was knocked to the ground by one of his training partners. Instead of helping the child to his feet, they laughed at him. Self righteous anger flooded through her at the sight but before she could take a step forward someone else came into view.

Ahsoka took a step backward in surprise. A younger version of herself crouched down to pull the youngling to his feet. She couldn't have been more than fourteen years old given the thin beaded chain that ran down her back lekku.

"You shouldn't be laughing." her younger self said her voice full of the self righteousness that she had felt moments ago. "A Jedi helps those in need. They don't push them down."

The boy's training partners looked away, ashamed. "Sorry Padawan Tano." they replied before scurrying from the room, their practice sabers clattering to the ground.

The boy looked up at her younger self with naked adoration. He had the same strange blue green eyes as the Inquisitor. "Thank you Padawan Tano." he said in his small little voice.

"Call me Ahsoka." the memory of her said with a warm smile.

"I'm Caleb."

The room around her shifted in a grey haze. Soon she found herself in the Temple commissary. Outside the tall windows that lined the circular hall there was the purple tint of night. The lights of the speeders and hovercraft moved like shooting stars. The hall was empty save for the two figures seated at one of the long tables.

It was the boy, Caleb, from the dojo sitting across from another version of herself. They both looked older than they had in the last memory but still impossibly young. Her younger self seemed tired but she was following along with Caleb's animated tale.

"And then Master Billaba stopped the bomb from exploding with the Force," he paused looking starstruck before saying "'Soka it was the coolest thing I have ever seen."

"What happened to the bomber?" she heard herself ask as she picked over her food.

Caleb's face fell somber. "He jumped from the roof. We couldn't save him."

Ahsoka watched as she placed a gentle hand on top of the boys. Her own recollection of this moment suddenly struck her. She had just gotten back from the front to find the Temple in a state of chaos. Apparently a Separatist agent had infiltrated the Temple in an attempt to carry out an assassination ordered by General Grievous and in the middle of all of it, little Caleb Dume.

Caleb was a Padawan just a few years younger than her, not yet assigned a Master. After that day in the dojo he had taken a shine to her, following her around whenever she was at the Temple. He was a curious little thing, always asking questions when his classmates would rather he not. He was a sweet kid, small for his age but powerful. The Force moved in him in a way Ahsoka had only seen in a few Jedi but unlike those Jedi, she didn't think Caleb was aware of the power he possessed.

They were, at one time, good friends. But then he and Master Depa Billaba joined the Clone Wars and she left the order. After that, well, there wasn't much hope that little Caleb Dume survived the Purge. There wasn't much hope for any of them.

"That was a very brave thing you did Caleb." her younger self said to the boy. "A little reckless but brave."

Caleb shot her a wiry look. "You'd know all about being reckless. I've heard all about the things you get up to with Master Skywalker. Master Kenobi is always complaining about you two to Master Billaba."

In the memory, she flicked a piece of food at his face and laughed.

Once again, the memory swirled in a haze of grey and she found herself outside in a Temple garden. The sun was warm on her skin, even in the memory. Out in the grass she saw herself and Caleb sparring, the flash of his two blue lightsabers clashing with her green brightly in the sharp afternoon light.

"You're getting good at this." she smiled as he blocked her downward strike. "What can I say, I learned from the best."

The fight went on for a few more minutes until Caleb suddenly deactivated his sabers and fell to the ground, gazing up at the sky above.

"When are you due to leave?" Ahsoka asked, laying down next to him.

"Tonight."

"You'll be fine." she assured him. "Just remember your training and listen to your Master."

"I always listen to my master." He gave her a knowing look. Ahsoka smiled with her younger self. "I'll miss you 'Soka."

"We'll see each other again Caleb Dume."

Ahsoka snapped back to the present with a gasp. Hera was calling her name, her hand gently shaking her shoulder, her blaster pointed at the Inquisitor - no, that wasn't his name.

She glanced down at the crumpled form of her friend smiling up at her through bloodied teeth.

"See you - 'Soka." he managed to ground out before his eyes rolled back into his head and his body went slack.

"Hera." Ahsoka said barely above a whisper, sorrow ripping her apart at the seams. "Get a stretcher down here now."

#star wars rebels #star wars: rebels #swr #swr fanfic #kanan jarrus #star wars #kanan and ahsoka were friends and i will die on this hill #shleby speaks #look at me write #posting my writing into the void has been good for me i think #at least i'm writing more now #lost in the dark tag

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edie-k · 3 years

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Conflict - R/Hr Fanfic

Today, I mentioned my dislike for one Ginny Weasley on the Romione Discord and I was met with polite side eyes. It made me remember this fanfic I wrote in 2004 (pre-HBP) in which I challenged myself to write a story where I liked Ginny but kept her fairly in character. Looking back at it 16 years later, I see all the cringe but I did accomplish my goal so I thought I would share.

Obviously, this is AU after OOTP.

Title: Conflict

Pairing: Romione

Rating: PG (I think I say hell once or twice, which is par for any conversation with me)

Disclaimer: Characters aren’t mine.

Ginny Weasley was a woman of divided allegiances. Her heart belonged to two separate factions: institutions that had been in place since almost the beginning of time. As Ginny Weasley was a loyal person, she had a difficult time choosing a position when these two sides went to war with one another.

You see, Ginny Weasley was a girl and a sister.

Of course, one may think these two went hand in hand. In order to be a sister, you must be a girl. True as that was, there were so many instances when it was difficult to be both a girl and a sister.

Ginny had six brothers and she loved them all dearly. Bill and Charlie regarded her as all significantly older brothers regard their younger sisters - she was innocent and young and could do no wrong. Apparently, Bill and Charlie did not remember much of the girls they knew at fifteen.

Percy… She was a bit reluctant to talk about Percy. She could never truly hate him, not even if she wanted to. When Bill and Charlie went to Hogwarts, Percy took on the role of the eldest child. He treated her as though she was his personal responsibility. Part of her wished he would return to the family just so she could drive him mad again.

Ginny’s relationship with the twins changed constantly. Some days they wanted Ginny as their protégé. Other days they wanted her out of the way. She was excellent in both carrying out their plans and schemes or as their unwilling test subject. Beyond that, she was a bit of a pest in their eyes. They had each other and did not see a need for anyone else’s company.

None of her five oldest brothers posed any problems when it became obvious she was a girl. They allowed guilt-free participation in girly activities, like gossiping and giggling with other females her age.

Ron was the one who always brought conflict and strife when it came to her roles as a girl and a sister. Ron was not her “favorite” brother or the one she “loved the most”. None of her brothers were. That was just not how the concept of family worked. Ron was her closest brother, and they had grown closer this summer.

The two of them spent the first month of holiday at the Burrow where the only real company was each other and it had been very enjoyable. Ron really seemed to have matured the past year, and it showed in their conversations. Ron actually listened to her, even when she could tell he thought she was being ridiculous or nosy. She found they could talk about almost anything. Ron even managed to muster up the maturity to listen to (some) details about her past and present relationships, although every time, he, not so subtly, hinted her perfect match had messy black hair and glasses.

Yes, some people may think that having one’s brother as a close friend is a bit pathetic, but something her mother said long ago stuck with her. Her brothers, especially Ron, were the only ones who knew what it was like to grow up a Weasley; who knew the holidays and memorable events the family shared. There were things her friends could never understand and the same went for Ron’s friends. They could not know what it was like to be poor or grow up in the magical world or as the babies of a large family. For that reason, Ginny was not ashamed of her friendship with her brother. He was a great person and even when Ginny was angry with him, she always found herself rooting for Ron. Therein lay the first half of the problem.

Not all areas of Ginny’s femaleness conflicted with her sisterly obligations. Ginny had plenty of friends who were girls. In fact, all of her roommates could be counted among her girl friends. They were not the pour-your-heart-out-to-and-tell-all-your-hopes-and-fears friends. No, they were more of the stay-up-late-giggling-about-boys-and-gossip friends. Yes, Ginny recognized that giggling and gossiping were not the most sophisticated of activities, but she enjoyed the frivolous time she spent with these girls.

There was a girl who was slowly becoming the heart-and-soul sort of friend. Hermione Granger listened in the same genuine way as Ron. She was trustworthy and faithful. They could discuss the serious matters in life, as well as the more entertaining aspects. Unfortunately, Hermione Granger was the other half of her problem.

Ron and Hermione were best friends. Of course, in saying that she rolled her eyes or raised a suggestive brow. Because while Ron and Hermione were just friends, neither of them actually felt that way, and more and more people caught onto that fact, Ginny especially, because she was the only one who had managed to coax confessions from them both.

Hermione already confessed the prior summer at Grimmauld Place that she possessed feelings beyond friendship for Ron. Consequently, Ginny made it her goal to obtain the same confession from Ron that summer. It was not half the challenge Ginny originally anticipated. Two weeks into holiday, she spoke a few carefully chosen words about Hermione’s impending arrival and Ron caved. Irritatingly enough, neither one of them made a move to step past the line between romance and friendship.

With the stalling of their relationship, the bickering remained. Harry remained distant and removed from the whole situation, designating her as the go-between of choice. This brought out Ginny’s two personalities, Ginny the Sister and Ginny the Girl. It actually got to the point where Ginny could visualize miniature versions of herself perched on each shoulder. Sister Ginny wore a Weasley jumper with jeans and her hair was such a bright red that it could not exist in nature. Girl Ginny wore way too much pink and an extraordinary amount of makeup. And the two of them never agreed on anything. They bickered almost as much as Ron and Hermione. What made it even more difficult was they both always had valid points.

So when Hermione exploded into the fifth year girls’ dorm, where Ginny sat on her bed, organizing pictures in her album, she was not surprised to see Sister Ginny appear on her left shoulder and Girl Ginny on the right to see what the problem was.

“Oh Ginny, sometimes he is just so awful!” Hermione cried, flopping on Ginny’s bed.

“What did he do?” demanded Girl Ginny.

“What did you do?” hissed Sister Ginny.

“What happened?” Ginny sighed. It was a beautiful October afternoon and the last thing she wanted to do was discuss her brother with Hermione and her two personalities.

“Well, Ron and Harry came down with their brooms and I said, ‘Ron, I thought you were going to work on your Potions essay with me this afternoon.’”

“She nagged him about that yesterday!” Sister Ginny huffed.

“Encouraged!” insisted Girl Ginny.

“Oh please. Are you telling me that Hermione doesn’t nag?” asked Sister Ginny.

“Didn’t you mention that to him yesterday?” asked Ginny.

“Well, yes.”

“Ha!” said Sister Ginny.

“Only because I - well, because I care about him. I want him to do well,” said Hermione.

“See, she means well!” said Girl Ginny.

“It’s because he’s much smarter than he gives himself credit for and if he just worked a little harder…”

“Well, I guess I have to agree with her there,” conceded Sister Ginny. “He is smart.”

“For a man,” agreed Girl Ginny.

“And then, he says, ‘Don’t nag!’ I told him that I, of course, AM NOT nagging and -”

“Hermione, might I ask why you’re so upset over an argument that seems so typical for the two of you?” Ginny prodded.

“Oh, good point! Now we’re getting somewhere!” said Sister Ginny.

“It’s not very nice to corner someone,” Girl Ginny huffed, crossing her arms.

“I told you; I just want Ron to do well!” insisted Hermione, but her pink stained cheeks told a different story.

“Ooo, she’s got a secret!” squealed Girl Ginny.

“Must you squeal?” asked Sister Ginny.

“Hermione,” Ginny prodded, her voice tinted with disbelief.

“Well,” she said, sitting up and primly straightening her skirt. “He just made a comment yesterday and I thought that - I obviously took it out of context.”

“What did he say?” asked Ginny.

“It’s not - it’s not a big deal. In fact, I obviously made a big deal out of something that was not.”

All three Ginnys patiently stared at her.

“Well, yesterday, he told me that he thought that I looked nice,” she said quietly.

“Good going Ron!” Sister Ginny said.

“What, she doesn’t look nice everyday?” asked Girl Ginny.

“And….” Hermione stopped and blushed.

“Hermione,” Ginny prompted.

“Well, yesterday when we were playing chess, he said it was sort of nice to spend time together by ourselves and - he kind of put his hand over mine. Of course, before I could respond, Dean and Seamus came in needing Ron to settle some sort of Quidditch argument. So I made some excuse and left.”

“She fled the scene?” asked Girl Ginny.

“See, she was in the wrong!” declared Sister Ginny triumphantly.

“Maybe his hand was clammy,” Girl Ginny said.

“Hermione, it sounds like he was complimenting you and trying to show some more than friendly affection. I don’t think my brother would do that unless he was attracted to you.”

“Ginny, I don’t know,” Hermione said as she rose from the bed. She began to pace back and forth. “All I wanted was to - to spend some time with him alone again this afternoon and so that’s why I pressed the issue, I guess.”

“Oh Hermione,” said Sister Ginny. “Homework is not the way to seduce my brother.”

“Food works well for seduction,” piped up Girl Ginny. “Or cleavage.”

“Okay, I can handle some things but let’s all please remember that this is our brother and I would prefer we never have the word seduction be uttered in the same sentence as his name,” Ginny told her two alter egos.

“Hermione, I bet if you just told Ron you wanted to spend time with him, he would happily oblige,” Ginny suggested gently.

“Hmph,” scoffed Hermione. “Why would he want to spend time with me?”

“If you want to bang your head against that wall, we’ll hang on tight,” suggested Sister Ginny.

“Because he just told you he does!” Ginny exclaimed.

“He’s just… making conversation,” Hermione said. Ginny glared at her. “Oh Ginny, I wish I knew for sure!” Hermione sank back into bed and sighed.

“I wish I could just tell her that Ron told me and this whole damn thing could be over with,” Ginny thought.

“Well of course you can’t,” said Girl Ginny. “And neither can I. But you can!” She pointed directly at Sister Ginny.

“What!” said Sister Ginny.

“What!” said Ginny.

“What?” asked Hermione.

“Just - just hang on a second. I have to think for just one second,” Ginny replied. “Now, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Listen. We can’t tell Ron Hermione likes him because Hermione is our friend and you cannot betray a friend. We all agree on that, right?” said Girl Ginny.

“Right,” confirmed Sister Ginny, looking a touch confused. Ginny herself was a bit confused as to where this was going.

“Now, you’re his sister. That means you can’t allow anyone to put him down or humiliate him or anything like that, right?”

“Correct,” answered Sister Ginny.

“But as his sister, it’s your job to embarrass and annoy him!”

“So,” Sister Ginny started out slowly. “I can tell Hermione that Ron likes her and it’s not really breaking a promise to Ron -”

“It’s being a little sister!” finished Girl Ginny.

“Wait a minute!” cried Ginny.

“This is perfect! I can’t even feel guilty because this is helping Ron. He can’t even be mad!” Sister Ginny exclaimed.

“Shouldn’t we stay out of this whole thing?” Ginny asked weakly. She needed to regain control before she was completely overruled.

“NO!” shouted Sister Ginny and Girl Ginny.

“Well, at least you two are getting along,” Ginny sighed.

“This has gone on long enough. It’s time for some serious interloping,” confirmed Sister Ginny.

“Just tell her. She’s your best friend and you should not keep secrets from your best friend,” pushed Girl Ginny.

“Don’t you want to do what’s best for your brother?” Sister Ginny asked.

“Ginny? What should I do?” asked Hermione.

“Tell her!” Girl Ginny urged.

“Say it!” pressured Sister Ginny.

“FINE!” yelled Ginny. Hermione jumped two feet in the air at sound of Ginny’s outburst. Ginny took little notice as she launched into her speech. “Hermione, Ron likes you. He told me himself over the summer holiday. He wants to tell you but he was just too scared to say it so I helped him develop a plan. He was going to try and slowly change your relationship. That should explain the decline in the rows and the increase in compliments and touching. Ron was going to see how you responded, and if he thought you liked him too, he was going to tell you on Halloween.”

“Halloween?” said Girl Ginny, wrinkling her nose. “Not very romantic, is it?”

“At least he was going to make a move,” said Sister Ginny.

Hermione was looking at her with wide eyes and a slight smile. “Really? He thought up a plan? It’s more than I managed.”

“Well, I did help him come up with it,” Ginny reminded her. “Anyway, with Halloween right around the corner, your bolting away from him last night probably made him doubt all the other responses he had been getting.”

“Which explains the fight earlier,” finished Hermione. “Oh Ginny, thank you! I’m sure it was hard for you to give up something Ron told you in confidence.”

“Well, it’s for a good cause,” Ginny said. “You are going to fix this, right?”

“Oh yes! I’ll - I’ll - I’ll meet him down at the Quidditch pitch right now,” she declared, standing up from the bed with a look of determination on her face. Suddenly, she deflated slightly. “Oh, but Harry will be there.”

Ginny chuckled. “I’m sure Harry will leave you alone.”

Hermione looked at her. “Does he know as well?”

Ginny was not sure if Ron had told Harry or not but Harry’s increased eye rolling and smirks in Ron and Hermione’s direction seemed to indicate he figured it out. “I’m not sure,” Ginny shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll leave you alone. He’s not as nosy as Ron.”

Hermione smiled as she glanced in the mirror, smoothing her skirt repeatedly. “Do I look okay?” she asked as she ran her fingers through her hair. “I mean, obviously my hair is a fright but it hasn’t picked up anything between here and the common room, has it? No stray quills, right?”

Ginny laughed. “No, your hair is fine.” While her friend’s hair was bushy, it wasn’t quite the disaster Hermione imagined it to be.

“Well, I suppose it’s okay,” she said, still smoothing it down. “It’s not as if Ron likes me for my looks.”

“Oh Merlin. She either has horrible self-confidence or she is completely blinded by love,” said Girl Ginny.

“Even I am not that delusional about my brother,” said Sister Ginny.

Ginny snorted. “Hermione, you do realize Ron is a teenage boy? I mean, yeah, he likes loads of noble things about you, but he definitely likes looking at you. Believe me; I’ve heard all about it. His eyes even glaze over when he stares at you, and you know he’s picturing you naked.”

“GINNY!” exclaimed an outraged Hermione, face burning red.

“Isn’t that a little too much information for you?” Girl Ginny asked Sister Ginny.

“I have five other brothers. I figured out a long while ago what they think about the majority of the time.”

Ginny ignored the two and turned back to Hermione. “Go on Hermione! You’re a beautiful girl; just go out there and tell Ron how you feel. While you’re at it, make him forget I was the one who let his secret slip.”

Hermione giggled. “I’ll try,” she said as she hurried out the door. Ginny sank back onto her bed.

“I hope I did the right thing,” she muttered aloud. “I feel a bit guilty for giving Ron away like that.”

“It had to be done,” Girl Ginny reassured her. “The arguments, the constant need for your advice…”

“It wasn’t good for your sanity,” finished Sister Ginny.

“My sanity? I’m in my room, talking to two aspects of my personality that have taken on distinctive voices and physical forms. Ron and Hermione were not the ones causing me to question my sanity. So if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go down to the common room and fill Harry in when he comes back up,” Ginny finished, standing up and walking towards the door.

“Harry?” Girl Ginny asked excitedly. “Is that open for discussion again?”

“You cannot date your brother’s best friend!” insisted Sister Ginny.

“And why the hell not?” asked Girl Ginny.

“Oh Merlin.”

#au romione #pre hbp #romione

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youarejesting · 4 years

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BTS365 Prompts.Week 48

[Full Masterlist] [Prompt Masterlist] [Tag yourself here]

Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester. Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

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Nov 26th - Dec 2nd

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Kim Seokjin - caught

It was strange living with a werewolf, he wasn’t the alpha thank gosh but he was the second in command. He loved you dearly and would protect you but you weren’t like the other mates, they were all werewolves too and they weren’t the most welcoming something about your scent being too sweet and odd to them.

Seokjin had been working all week and you were getting sick of sitting in the library hiding from the girls, opening the window you took a deep breath of fresh air, you slipped out into the garden bed under the window and ducked off into the forest. You passed the guard line and heard the wolves howl. You continued running, there was nothing wrong with the place, it was beautiful and it’s not like you wanted to leave, you just wanted your partner’s attention.

You heard the familiar howl, familiar as the sound pulled at your chest, you knew it was your mate. Seokjin was calling for you worried. You heard the thump of feet closing in and Seokjin pounced landing in front of you. He looked at you panting his eyes concerned and sad and you held out your arms.

He turned back into himself, bare as the day he was born, and wrapped his arms around you. “Please don’t leave me” He whined pulling you tightly against his broad chest.

“I wasn’t leaving, I just wanted to get you all to myself”

Min Yoongi - freestyle

Yoongi on land was lazy but when he hit the water he could move quickly, his form was small meaning he had the agile build to glide through the water. He mostly spent his days sleeping and conserving energy.

“Yoongi the semi-finals are coming up, and you haven’t practiced at all” You hissed wearing your swimsuit. “I am challenging you to a race, if I win you will practice as always and if you win I will shut my mouth and let you rest” He sat up and upped his shirt walking to the edge.

“Come on love, let’s race” He smirked and you stepped up to the podium and the two went on the whistle and raced up and back. You were shocked when you not only lost but lost by a landslide.

“Wait how did you, If you were that good why don’t you practice” Yoongi pulled you underwater pressing his lips to yours and holding you there until you squirmed and broke free to the surface. He emerged with a grin, “now that you have held up your end of the deal, try keeping your voice down, while I sleep or I will have to do that again.”

Jung Hoseok - whoops

Hoseok was playing around with Yoongi, the older gentleman asked him to bring an Iced Americano to the studio and he was holding it above his head teasing him. It was only meant to be a fun little game but when the drink fell on a particularly expensive bit of equipment Hoseok became apologetic immediately searching the internet for where to buy another.

“Hoseok, stop!” Yoongi sighed “It’s fine, just head out and get me another coffee”

“Okay,” The younger man said looking disheartened and ashamed.

Hoseok messaged Jimin to give Yoongi a coffee and he went out of his way heading to music stores and more and looking for the exact copy of the now broken equipment.

“We don’t sell it, that’s and an old piece of technology. All we have are these” the man pointed

“Yoongi is particular he might have preferred the old one,”

“It won’t hurt to try,” The clerk said and Hoseok nodded purchasing the piece and heading up to the studio. He left it at the door with a note.

He rang the doorbell and ran off to watch from behind the potted plant. Yoongi opened the door and looked shocked bending down with wide eyes he read the note and sighed for a moment before he looked at the box, he sat down in the doorway reading the box and opening it on the spot.

Hoseok felt his heart racing he was happy mostly because Yoongi looked like a kid on Christmas. He looked happy.

Kim Namjoon - professor @taetaebq @maddymal

“Professor Kim will be here any moment he is going to be writing about our findings and help us with this majestic creature” The voice was muffled through the glass where you sat the container filled with water and you sat there breathing slowly, you had given up struggling, this container was the equivalent of being buried in a coffin. You would eventually suffocate, the number of oxygen particles in the water would eventually run out.

You laid there accepting fate and they moved you into a building under lights. You were growing sleepy, the oxygen was dwindling, a figure appeared walking in, and the next thing you here is shouting. “How long has she been in there?”

Arms picked you up and you were lowered into the small pool of filtered and oxygenated water, It was like a breath of fresh air, this man was drenched and he looked at you and raised his hands in surrender. He backed up and you hissed.

“I am so sorry, do you speak hangul, English, Spanish, German?” He asked you slowly and you reached up taking his hand and pressing his knuckles to your forehead in thanks. He blushed, the action foreign and a little intimate for him.

Park Jimin - mythology

It was in an antique antique store, where you found an old medallion, it was a dull gold coin embellished with a crescent moon. Thinking it was pretty cute and maybe you could shine it up with a few gentle cleaning products. Purchasing the item you walked back to your hotel, happy with your day of wandering through the city.

You removed your purchases from your bag slipping out of your street clothes you pulled on your swimsuit covering them in an ‘I heart Athens’ t-shirt and fastening the necklace around your neck ready to take the perfect Instagram photo. You passed out from some unknown force, like mental chloroform.

When you did happen to come to, you were laying on a soft bed the breeze was cool and the lace curtains on the four-poster fluttered. Sitting up you were instantly concerned getting up off the bed and heading to the window, when you looked out there was no longer the lights of the city, it was morning and all the shops and hotels were gone. You were atop a mountain, dare you say mount Olympus in a historical looking building or at least a replica.

“Hello, are you feeling okay, my lady?” Turning you were struck by the beauty of this young man, you stepped back alarmed “My name is Artemis” He smiled

“Uh y/n,” you said lamely

He was gentle, helping you get dressed, and leading you to breakfast. Everyone at the table seemed in awe of your beauty and you couldn’t understand why. Though you had read somewhere before if people from the 21st century went back in time they would be deemed insanely beautiful. “You must be Aphrodite reincarnated, you are so beautiful” One man a the head of the table spoke.

It was odd, something was going on, and when you didn’t wake up in your hotel the next morning you realized this wasn’t some dream. Instead waking beside the beautiful Artemis.

It didn’t take long before you realized that it was all real, the myths. They were gods and goddesses’ undying and magical as all the legends told.

It took a few years to adjust to your new life on mount Olympus but you soon came to love it and all the people who lived there. Artemis insisted that you stay in his room and one night whispered to you his name. The one thing that gives a god their power.

Kim Taehyung - rewritten

There was a legend that if you found the secret book hidden in the library and wrote one wish on a page, it would come true. Something you were willing to try but you didn’t know if you would ever be able to find it. Taehyung spent every day trying to find it instead of trying to better his grades. He was searching through the shelves until he found it, somewhere on the top shelf above the biology and anatomy textbooks, he pulled it down waving it in front of your face.

“I am going to make the best wish” He grinned writing down as he spoke, “I want it to skip to when I have a successful job owning a huge company and I have a beautiful wife and everything I ever wanted”

You thought nothing would happen but you were taken somewhere strange by some sort of magical force, you were quick to learn you were working in the art department of the Kim enterprise. You looked around and saw everyone working and he walked into work looking happy but weirded out.

He spotted you and waved you over and you smiled ignoring him and eventually, he called you over. Racing over trying to stay undercover, he pulled you into the office. The two of you were talking, he told you his wish worked and he was in the future but you were unable to tell him that you too were pulled from the past.

“You think I am crazy, it is so nice to see you” He hugged you and someone walked in.

“Taehyung, what is going on here?” A woman said

“Ah, this is my friend from university, we were just catching up” Taehyung grinned

“Hello, Taehyung hasn’t mentioned any friends especially any from University, I am his wife” She outstretched her hand and shook yours a little too tightly.

It was torture and you couldn’t help him, because of this magic wish business wouldn’t let you help but also because you were bullied in the workplace apparently trying to seduce the boss a rumor started by Taehyung’s wife and soon you handed in your resignation and packed up your things. Taehyung was getting sick of it all stressing out and eventually he ran to your apartment and one thing led to another and you two were in bed together.

“I wish I never made the wish that day” He frowned you took a trip to the university and found the book you wrote in it that you wished Taehyung would get a second chance and could live his life from the moment he wrote in the book and you felt the magic work and the two of you landed on the ground you were on top of him and he looked at you, taking your younger face in his hands and kissing you so fiercely.

Jeon Jungkook - memoirs

There was an old book in the addict that the kids were cleaning out in order to create a reading nook with fairy lights and blankets up there. “Hey dad what is this?”

“This is the story your mother wrote before she passed, it is about our life together,” He laughed, reminiscing for a moment about the beautiful woman he fell in love with. He remembered every year and how he loved her more and more as she grew older. “She was a brilliant young woman,”

“Can you read it dad?” His son asked looking up at him and Jungkook could see his and his wife's features woven beautifully into a masterpiece that was their son.

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tokidokitrash · 4 years

Text

It’s been quite awhile since the previous post and I’m sorry!

I actually wrote this awhile back, but lacked the courage to post it.

I’m someone who is quite insecure and scared of how people might view me and my writings online.

But today I decided to just post this anyway-it’s June and Seven’s birthday is coming up— heck it!

I’m sorry it’s so long , and we aren’t at a conclusion yet- I’m just writing whatever comes to mind kinda and I’m grateful to any who reads it- your notes are such an encouragement, however small.

Also, amidst these crazy times, I hope you are all well, stay healthy, remember to eat!

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The way we are - 02

Seven is left standing outside her door. He’s pretty lost for words at this point, which is rare for a smart mouthed genius like himself.

He has to admit, he feels better after laughing like that -it was cathartic, but after listening to what she just said, seeing her smile like she was entirely broken inside, he can’t help but feel that he’s lost something very, very important in that moment.

He’s realised she was probably crying.

And that it was most definitely his fault.

Pangs of guilt worked his their way up his mind, as his heart aches at the thought that he’s given someone as cheery as her so much sadness over his demeanour.

She had always been so strong, so happy. Shining with the brilliance of the sun with every step she took. Always seemed like nothing in life could bring her down. True, she was a little weird, with her adorable exclamations of excitement over what would seem to be the most mundane of things. How he’d catch her standing outside the apartment for a spell, start to worry she’d seen something or someone that could cause her any harm....only to realise she’d be staring adoringly at a pigeon who’d made his way down the corridor. She seemed to be delighted by any little critter or creature, and that part of her, he adored.

She was such a sweet creature herself.

He’d sometimes catch himself distracted by the CCTVs, ever on a lookout for a glimpse of you, eager to see if he could decipher what had caught your interest that day.

And oh, how his heart would swell whenever you returned to the apartment, no matter how distracted you’d be, or how many bags you were holding after a trip to the grocery store... you’d always find time to look up at the cameras and flash him a beaming smile, giving him a little wave or wink. He’d sometimes find himself giving you a wave back, blowing a kiss or two, despite knowing full well you’d never know this. You were just so, so cute, he felt his heart would burst at the seams and implode on him due to an overload of cute.

While he might be greedy for more of your attention, he savoured those little, minute, unseen interactions with you.

The incident with ‘unknown’ was the turning point.

Seeing that precious girl in danger once was too much for a lifetime.

How could he have let this happen? Was he just incapable to protecting those he cared about?

His mind entered overdrive at the realisation that Unknown was none other than his sweet younger twin Saeran, whom he’d always longed to reunite with someday.

But never in his wildest, sickest imaginings did he want a reunion like this.

Saeran, who stood before him, a completely different man. Gone was the timid, sweet boy- in his place was a twisted man whom the world had hurt too much...and it was all his fault- he failed to protect his brother .

So many unanswered questions reeled in his head, he was having the worse headaches of his life. Trying to piece together the massive puzzle that was unfurling right before his eyes. If there is indeed a god, he was being awful.

In the days he spent at MC’s place, frustration and growing anger seeped into his very core. The complications between Rika, V and Mint Eye...and how....what happened to Saeran?? Then there was the anger at himself... at how put MC in danger. He had nearly let his bright, shining flame get snuffed out.

All this was too much, he was slipping off his 707 persona, whether he wanted to or not. Telling himself it was for the best, he started pushing MC away, first treating her coldly, with disdain, as he tried his best to pour himself into the work.

Next came the harsh words lashed out towards her fuelled by his own frustrations.. Or just ignoring her, or just telling her she was being an annoyance, disrupting his work.

Yet she still always came to him, like she was pulled towards him by an unseen force.

Sometimes, all she wanted to do was sit close to him, watch him work.

Other times, she would make small talk, peppering the conversations with little jokes, trying her utmost best to lighten the mood.

She always seemed to have her eye on him, watching over him. Often fetching him some dr.pepper or honey Buddha chips, or, you know, proper food and water so he doesn’t die of malnourishment.

Once, he had accidentally dozed off mid-work, and woke to the feel of a blanket placed on his back. Then, being the jerk he is, he told her not to bother with him and leave him alone, to stop wasting her time on him, before grabbing the blanket and hurling it across the room, startling her.

Regret sank in immediately when he thought he saw her eyes glisten with the threat of tears... he saw her lips force themselves into a tight smile, the she pouts a little, rolls her eyes just ever so slightly, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “Alright, alrighttt, sorry!!” She exclaims as she gingerly pick up the blanket- folding it neatly before placing it in the couch next to him...”jusssst in case, alright? “ she says in a whisper , before adding “.....Please take care of yourself.”

He just ignored her the rest of that night.

He hated that even in this crazy situation where he’s already decided to push MC away for her safety, she still made his heart glow with a slight warmth whenever he saw how much she cared for him.

Since the day after the incident, he realised she truly was a strange one. She seemed flighty, almost airheaded at times, like when her curiosity got the better of her and she touched the floppy disk containing all the photos he had of Saeran, leading Seven to lash out at her and tell her to mind her own business for the umpteen time...

Yet there where times she seemed acutely sharp, always seemingly able to see through his 707 persona- to look deep within him and see Saeyoung.

‘No. What she was attracted to was the 707 she could fool around with in the chat rooms. Not this horrible person I truly am...not Saeyoung.’

Heading back to his corner, Seven tried to settle back into work.. but his thoughts keep bringing him back to MC. He had never wanted to see her like this. He recalls what he managed to see in that short moment they had eye contact- the reddened, swollen eyes, tear-stained face. It ripped his heart to shreds knowing he did this to her.

During that moment, there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to apologise to her, scoop her up in his arms and kiss all the tears away, whispering apologies and sweet nothings to her as he showed her that he cared for her just as deeply as she did him.

On the other hand, the other side of him wanted to bolt out of the apartment. So that he could never hurt her again- that way she could forget about him sooner.

At this very moment, all he could think about was how much of a jerk he was- how he really could never stand in the sun with someone as radiant as her.

He was filth.

Head pounding, he sighs, slipping his headphones on- well aware this might make his headache worse, but he still blasts the music anyway, as though he’s looking for some internal form of self-punishment.

Minutes had probably turn to hours, the sun had long since risen, already hanging a little lower in the sky. Seven cracks open another can of Dr.pepper, his tongue a little numb from the constant combination of Honey Buddha chips and his favourite beverage. Idly he realises the last proper meal he had ......was the same time as MC’s. That fact makes him straighten up. He had at least some semblance of nourishment over these last two days- what about her?

He started to feel ashamed of his actions, more so, his inactions. Had he truly been so wrapped up with work and trying to push her away, that he failed to check if her basic needs were met? Whipping out the phone that had been stowed away in his oversized hoodies’ pockets, he fires off a private message to her.

- ‘Are U awake?’

...he stares at the phone expectantly, waiting for her reply.

Only the reply doesn’t come.

‘...maybe she’s asleep. ‘ He quietly thinks to himself. The idea to hack into her phone crosses his mind, but he stops himself. If he does hack into her phone, not only would it be a telling sign of his occupational hazards, it might also be a serious breach of her trust....but from the way she used to flirt with him on the messenger, she sure gave the impression that she might not be totally against the idea of him sneaking a peek or two at her.

He brushes the thought away, absentmindedly rubs his face and ugh, he feels greasy and gross- he himself was in dire need of a shower, as he’d clearly neglected himself these last few days- well, maybe the days before these as well. The man took terrible care of himself once the momentum of work was in full swing.

Phone still clutched in his left hand, he starts looking up food delivery options. He couldn’t care less about himself, but was growing more concerned about MC- he won’t have her starving herself, not on his watch! He mutters the various food options he sees on the screen, wondering what would be a good choice. “........bibimbap? Kimbap? Ah maybe something different like western or....fast food?.........hnnnnnn Indian food? What would it be.....hmmmmm...”

“WOAHH”

Her voice booms from the phone and he yelps, fumbling about with the phone. He quickly holds the phone against his ear.

“is this a miracle?! Are you finally going to eat something?!” She exclaims, voice a littler higher due to excitement and he winces from the loud volume, pulling the phone away slightly.

“MC?? How come you’re on the pho- ahhh. I did it again didn’t I?? Ahhhhhhh I need to stop dialling you ahhhhhhh” he groans as he slaps his forehead. The sound elicits giggles from her, and his heart does little somersaults in response.

“Dawwwww did you truly miss little old me thaaattt much?”

Why Yes. Yes he did.

“I know choosing what to eat might be difficult.... but you didn’t have to call y’know- cause ...dundundun! Here I am!”

Right as she says that, the door to her room swings open and she jumps out of the room, one arm up in the air, the other holding the phone to her ear, presenting herself. To Seven, it seems like light has returned, and she’s brought a gust of fresh air with her- her joyful bearings seemed to alleviate that pounding headache he’s been having. Only now does he realise that he’s finally relaxed his furrowed brow.

“Ta-dahhhh~!” She says, and Seven can’t resist clapping for her, then mentally slapping himself for going along with her antics. Hadn’t he resolved to push her away, not show the slightest form of affection for her? But ahhh, how could he have possibly resisted that??

She brings her arm down and does a little bow for him, then patters over towards his corner, dressed in a large, long sleeved shirt and pyjama bottoms with animal prints all over. Her short umber hair a messy cloud, sticking up in weird tufts, being uncooperative with her as she gently combs through her bed-head. Being so stupidly adorable- he notes. As she nears him, she stills herself, before awkwardly sitting at the far end of the couch. “So, uh, I’m here to....help?” She says as she smiles widely, exaggerating for him. He resists the urge to chuckle, and tries to go back to his ‘serious, no nonsense, leave-me-alone’ persona...then he remembers whatever happened during his last interaction with her, and tells himself that he doesn’t have to be that much of an ass. He clears his throat, noting that her eyes were now downcast, but always sneaking glances at him.

“Well, I guess it’s good you’re here, I was about to order food for us-speaking of which, I hope you aren’t starving yourself. You shouldn’t bother with me, but you should make sure to eat, to take care of yourself, or the rest would worry about you..”

“Hmm, I know! You don’t have to worry about me too, Seven~” she sighs “I can handle myself too.” Her voice seemed laced with a barely noticeable tinge of sadness at that last statement.

Worried, Seven finds himself at a loss for words, he hadn’t had time to think about how to act around her, and as the awkward atmosphere nearly makes a comeback, her belly makes its presence known on cue with a small, but audible rumble. A slight pink blossoms on her cheeks, and they stare at each other, before casting a sheepish look his way.

“bibimbap sounds good right about now though...”

He darts his eyes away from her and disguises his chuckle as a grunt,signalling his approval in her choice, rapidly scrolling away on his laptop, searching for bibimbap...and it takes every fibre of his being maximum effort to hold back the laugh that nearly escaped him, as her blush turns from pink to scarlet.

——————-

Thank you again for reading! And thank you to @emberchoihan for your comment on my previous post :)

#mysme angst #mysme luciel #mysme mc #mysticmessenger #mm 707 #saeyoung choi #mm #saeyoungxmc #saeyounq #mm saeyoung #saeyoung fic #thewaywearefic #fanfiction #707xmc #707 #mm luciel #luciel x reader #luciel choi #thisshitiskindadraggyandimsorryok

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years

Text

Re-blog Tag

The fabulous @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world tagged me to re-blog a fic I’m proud of. Thank you so much darling <3

If anyone wants to play consider yourself tagged. I’ll tag @gryffindorhealer @thisismegz @petals-to-fish @pansexualsnuffles

Glimpsing Happiness

FFN and AO3

I wrote this wonderful piece with @hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon and it’s still one of my favorite ones to go back and read. I’ll post just the first two chapters here, but if you follow the links above they’ll take you to the full 34K word story. I hope you enjoy this WWII Blackinnon AU!

Chapter 1

Marlene straightened her veil and smoothed the creases out of her white apron before grabbing her gray woolen coat. She chuckled bitterly at the lies she and Mary had told themselves when the war began. September seemed like a dream not just over half a year ago.

When she'd interviewed for the QAIMNS to be a military nurse she'd been a bit startled at being asked to wait afterward. The officer had returned to the waiting room ten minutes later and handed her a packet. Open only in the event of war was printed across the front. He thanked her and sent her on her way. When Mary had the same packet after her interview, Marlene at least knew it wasn't a ploy. Marlene still remembered the chill she felt when England declared war. She and Mary opened their packets together in Marlene's room. The fact that they'd been assigned to the same place was a miracle within itself. War had a habit of pulling everyone apart. But they thought Netley would be an adventure back then. They thought they would be by the sea and have beautiful scenery to live in and that this was how they'd make a difference. Though if she was honest, Marlene would have preferred being handed a rifle and marching orders. But she had to take what she could get.

“Ready Marls?” Mary came out of the loo and walked to the small bed adjacent to the one Marlene sat upon. Her Majesty's nurses were being put up in qualified dwellings, but Marlene knew the stories from The Great War and she refused to become attached to this small flat as home.

Home was London. Home was the bustling streets where she would run to school with her brother and sister. Home was making fun of her older brother for pinning after the shop girl. Home was her younger sister playing their grandmother's violin because she had the gift. Home was her mum's Sunday dinners and her seamstress work all over the sitting room. Home was the smell of her dad's pipe tobacco wafting through their small house and his hugs that made her feel understood. Home was when everyone thought that the world had seen it's worst war. This, well this was anything but home.

Marlene sighed and grabbed her gloves, “Let's get this wretched walk over with.”

Mary tutted, “Just think of it as a pleasant stroll near the seaside.”

Marlene playfully pulled one of Mary’s black curls from under her veil, “I can always count on you to be a bright ball of sunshine can't I?”

Mary reached up and grabbed one of Marlene's blonde ringlets. Marlene flinched as the lock of hair caught on Mary's wedding band, “Your fault for wearing the sun on your head, Sister.”

The women began their trek up to Netley Hospital. The cold spring air whipped against them and Marlene nearly lost her veil twice. It was biting cold and their fingers and toes ached as they climbed the hill. There's a reason that it took two steam engines for the trains to reach the hospital station, Marlene mused as she braced herself against the wind that threatened to knock her back down the hill.

When they finally made it to the hospital doors, Marlene groaned. The entry to the hospital was most peculiar and if she was being honest, downright disturbing. This grand entry served as some sort of deranged circus. All the skulled momentos of animals that had been collected across the British Empire. Beasts really, she shuddered and practically dragged Mary past it all as quickly as possible. Marlene didn't think she'd ever become accustomed to it.

“They really aren't all that bad, Sister Marlene,” Mary smirked and stopped to admire what was labeled as an elephant skull.

“Sister Mary, we're going to be late if we don't step to it and the Matron won't thank us for it.”

Mary sighed and removed her coat before adjusting her scarlet tippet, “Well then off we go.”

They walked to their Matron’s office, nodding politely and grabbed their assignments off the wall covered in file folders.

“Bollocks,” Marlene muttered as they walked out and she opened her folder.

Mary peered over her shoulder, “Oh dear.”

“I was supposed to be done this week!” Marlene groaned. “Private Fenwick will be cleared and on his way to the station by now and I was supposed to be done with Quarantine because we'd have no more patients. But no! We had to get a typhoid fever patient!”

“But we sent vaccines over to France. He should have been vaccinated, it was mandated, David told me so.” Mary’s husband had been sent over to France with the British Expeditionary Force.

“The vaccine isn't a guarantee, Sister. He's probably one of the lucky ones.” Marlene huffed and snapped her folder shut.

“Yes,” Mary rolled her eyes, “very lucky, indeed.”

“Enjoy surgical recovery,” Marlene tipped her head as they reached Mary's ward.

“Enjoy your walk,” Mary blew her a kiss before walking into the first room of her ward.

Marlene started her near quarter-mile trek to the far side of Netley Hospital. She'd gone home last night looking forward to a new assignment, to being done with the Quarantine patient. Not that Private Fenwick was a bad sort, but Marlene was tired of being sequestered off with the shy little ward maid, Arabella Figg. She was a sweet enough lady, but she always insisted on talking about the cats she bread and Marlene wasn't particularly fond of cats, she was more of a dog person actually, so their conversations fizzled out quickly.

“Sister Marlene,” Arabella smiled kindly at her as she pulled the sheets off of Private Fenwick's cot. “I told them to put your new patient by the window. Not much of a view, but I thought a bit of sun would do the poor officer good.”

“Thank you, Arabella,” Marlene nodded and walked to the far end of the room where a man lay unconscious under his blankets. Opening the chart, Marlene sighed, “Welcome home, Captain Black.”

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

Chapter 2

It started out like just a common cold. Sirius did his best to ignore the blaring headache and aches in his muscles. He was fighting in a bloody war; he had more important things to focus on than the damned sniffles.

But within a few weeks, it was high fevers to the point of full-on delirium. No amount of Iron-will stubbornness could have kept him on the field after that. He was lucky someone had dragged him off to sick bay before his vision gave out.

Losing his sight was quite jarring, even to a mind that was preoccupied with the fact it was boiling. Was he dying? Where was he? What was happening?

He woke up, and by virtue of doing so, he was fairly sure he wasn’t dead. He didn’t quite have a gage on how long he was unconscious, but when he woke he was absolutely sure he’d been moved.

The smell.

This was some sort of infirmary or hospital. It smelled like sickness. Death and dying. Was he next? What sort of soldier dies of the sniffles? Uncle Alphard would be ashamed.

Or he would have been...He was gone now. Sirius winced. The news of his favorite Uncle’s passing was fresh. The letter had only come a week before the nosebleeds began.

Uncle Alphard had been his hero. The only person he could really look up to in that whole god-forsaken family. He was also just about the only blood relation that Sirius had who hadn’t been ashamed of him.

To be fair, the shame went both ways. Having grown up in a house with his 1st cousin, Bellatrix Black, who kissed the ground that Herr Hitler walked on, was not something that Sirius was particularly proud of. Leaving aside the constant rumors that she was intimately close to the Führer and may or may not be pregnant with his horrible Nazi hellspawn. Sirius didn’t even believe that last bit, but he felt sure that Bella wished it were true. She’d had these awful framed photos of him up in her bedroom when they were children. She was living her dream… It disgusted him and he didn’t bring it up if he could help it.

Instead, he attempted to shake off any hints of German in his speech and mannerisms. This was a monumental task for someone who spoke German from the nursery. In truth, he was a quarter British, if that. His mother’s mother was a Granddaughter of Queen Victoria herself. But they’d married Germans, as the British nobility had been wont to do, and consequently, his Mother’s noble house of Black, was about as German as anyone in Europe.

His father was bitter that he never got to wear the crown he had lived his life thinking that he deserved. He’d never fully adjusted. It was a far fall from His Royal Highness Orion, Crown Prince of Saxony, to an untitled exile, taking his wife’s name and live off her relatives' generosity.

Things were always tense at Uncle Cygnus’s generosity and his estate in Berkshire. Sirius and Cygnus’s middle daughter, Andromeda, clung to each other, and their uncle Alphard, in the midst of all these disgruntled Germans. The three of them were all that was left, well before England declared war. The others contended that Herr Hitler had the right idea about the Herrenmenschen. Transparently desperate to be superior to someone after losing their titles, they made their choice.

Sirius felt that he had to make choices of his own, despite being only 15 at the time. He’d opted to stay behind with his best mate from Eton, James Potter, and Uncle Alphard. This decision, and his iron-will refusal to do as he was told, did not go over well.

His mother berated him for his choices, saying he was a traitor to his blood. He said they were traitors to his country. This was the country that had educated him and taught him to be a man more than she ever could. So his parents and younger brother went on their way to support the Fürher and Sirius Black did his damnedest to be an English Gentleman through and through. That was that.

Apparently, being an English Gentleman did nothing to fend off typhoid fever. So he was to convalesce at the rather unpleasant smelling Netley Hospital for the time being.

Those were amongst the words of the commanding baritone voice, was it a doctor? A medic? How was Sirius supposed to know? He couldn’t bloody see. How did people manage to live like this?

This was going to get old very quickly, if, like the voice informed him, he was going to live through it. Six weeks as a blind invalid?

Bollocks…

“Welcome home, Captain Black” the sound of his name startled him out of his half unconscious state.

“Did you say home? Are you sure about that? I think perhaps I died and went to Hell. Are you Hell’s secretary?”

“I beg your pardon! I’m Sister Marlene McKinnon. I’m charged with taking care of you while you recover here at Netley. So I recommend you be a bit nicer to me. You just asked the woman who’ll handle all your meals and medication for the next… ooooh six weeks is it… if she was Hell’s secretary.”

“And I’m still not convinced that you’re not. Sister Marlene. Are you a nun? I’m afraid I find myself dreadfully blind at the moment. You’ll have to tell me; are you wearing one of those nun head what’s-its?”

“Well, this is going to be an eventful six weeks… No, Captain Black, I’m not a nun. Sister is a rank. Sister is my rank in Queen Alexandra's Imperial Military Nursing Service.”

“Ah yes. Great Aunt Alix. That was the funeral of the season when I was six.” He remarked casually.

“Captain, I don’t care if her Majesty herself was your aunt. You still have to be polite.”

“Do I? Is there a law? ‘Here in Hell, we must be polite’? I must say, that’s unexpected. Here I was thinking the Devil would be lax with the rules. Shows what I know.”

Sirius was pretty sure he heard the woman, Sister Marlene, groan.

“I’ll be back in an hour, Captain Black. Perhaps by then you’ll have reconsidered your attitude.” Her clipped footsteps faded towards what must have been the door.

#blackinnon #blackinnon au #sirius x marlene #sirius black x marlene mckinnon #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #blackinnon fanfiction #WWII au #world war two au #enemies to lovers #fluff #historical fiction #historical fic #period romance #romance #harry potter fanfiction #jily #blinded by love

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iamartemisday · 4 years

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90 and 32 for Loki and your choice?

Is there really a choice? lol

Pregnancy Fic + Unexpected Virgin

...hoo boy.

Okay, so Loki decides one day to go to Midgard. No real reason why. He’s just bored.

While there, he meets some mildly interesting people, including a young woman about to graduate college named Jane Foster. She’s just escaped an incredibly painful blind date and Loki further helps her avoid the hapless human by pretending to kiss her in an alleyway. Her hot breath on his face actually makes him think of kissing her for real, but that’s a ridiculous notion. What kind of prince would he be cavorting with mortals?

Regardless, as they talk about life and Jane’s plans for grad school, he finds himself intrigued by her. She’s highly intelligent for her species and while her grip on the Bifrost could not be more basic, if anyone was going to figure it out, he’d say it was her.

Over the next month or so, Loki starts visiting Midgard and Jane more and more. As far as she knows, he’s another student like her home for summer break. As they grow closer, Loki thinks more and more about what it would be like to kiss her. Finally, the day comes and by Odin, can she ever kiss.

Of course, there’s no way something like this can last. Even putting aside Loki’s greater longevity, there are so many people out there he’s pissed off. If they know a vulnerable mortal woman has caught his eye, no way they won’t take advantage.

That’s how Jane ends up a hostage of one of Loki’s many enemies. He is able to save her and kill the perpetrator, but he realizes now that their relationship can only end in pain. He knows now just how deeply in love with her he’s fallen. He loves her so much that he can find it in himself to erase every trace of him from her memory. Everything from their first meeting to the day they first kissed. He gives her one more kiss before he leaves her, pouring all his love and magic into it. Along with a wish that one day, somehow, their paths would cross again.

And so, Loki leaves her. Jane wakes up the next morning in her apartment with no recollection of her harrowing adventure or the prince she once loved. It’s as if nothing ever happened.

Except as the days go by, Jane starts to have some odd symptoms. She’s weirdly sick in the morning and feels faint during the day. She’s moodier than usual, only wants to eat food she hates and gets random headaches.

There is an obvious answer that is also completely impossible. Jane is not ashamed to admit she’s never had sex (like it even matters how long someone waits). In fact, she hasn’t dated since that one awful blind date a few months ago (every time she thinks about it she feels sad for no reason, and she still can’t figure out why). Days later, the symptoms persist. As a joke, she buys a home pregnancy test. Not like it’s going to mean anything.

The test comes back positive.

Jane buys three more. All positive.

She goes to the doctor, who confirms it.

Pregnant.

Now, this is a major problem because again, Jane has never had sex. She rarely drinks and hasn’t been to a bar recently. A few guys in her department like her, but there was no way they’d ever do something like that to her. Right?

The time frame of conception is determined. Jane recalls a day during that time when she did go to the bar, and now that she thinks about it, her memory of that week is a bit spotty...

At that point, Jane, being the determined woman she is, decides she can’t worry about what might’ve happened right now. She needs to think about what is happening. The obvious answer is abortion. That or adoption. How can she, a grad student going into astrophysics of all things, take care of a child? It’s not that she doesn’t want kids, it’s the idea never even crossed her mind because she’s just that focused on her goal.

Now, motherhood is an actual reality. It’s still early enough for her to make an appointment at the clinic. She’s online researching, still unsure if she’s actually going to call, when she feels something. At first, she thinks she’s imagining it. She feels her stomach and there it is again. The tiniest movement. Maybe not even a movement at all. Maybe just a heartbeat...

At that moment, something fundamental within Jane changes. She closes her current web search and opens a new one on pregnancy guides and nearby baby stores.

A few months later, Jane’s daughter is born. While it’s definitely a bit on the nose given the circumstances, Jane can’t resist writing Christina on the birth certificate.

It’s not as hard as she thought it would be. Erik and her mother are both huge helps. They immediately fall in love with the baby and watch her while Jane is at school and studying. By the time she gets her degree, Christina is five and has spent the last few years providing constant encouragement for her mother. She walks at Jane’s side during her graduation. She gets a little stuffed bear with a cap and gown while Jane gets her doctorate.

The next few years are a bit hectic. Jane tries to give Christina as much stability as possible. They live in one place for a few years while Jane teaches at the university and builds up goodwill with the staff in order to get the grant money she needs to fund her research. Her efforts finally pay off when Christina is about to turn nine. Jane sets up her lab in New Mexico and they move there for the summer. They might stay longer depending on what Jane finds, but she doesn’t tell Christina that just yet. She’s already complaining about how boring Puente Antiguo is.

To entertain herself, Christina reads and writes about all sorts of fun adventures she could be having. She’s never showed her mom this, or anyone for that matter, but she has a few strange little talents no one else seems to have. For example, she can sometimes move things around without touching them. One time, she swears she turned a mean kid’s hair blue when he was bullying her and her friends. Snakes seem to really like her. She can’t talk to them like Harry Potter, but they do follow her sometimes. There are tons of snakes in New Mexico, but she’s not too bothered by it. They all seem pretty nice.

Soon Darcy arrives and she more or less bonds with her new boss’s kid. When some guy in town starts hassling Darcy, Christina asks one of her snake friends to make him go away and the guy never comes back. Another guy makes fun of Jane on the street, calling her a crackpot. He rather suddenly trips over nothing and knocks a few of his teeth out.

Jane does notice a lot of this stuff, but not once does she think to connect it to her innocent daughter. Meanwhile, Christina is well aware that she’s the one doing this. Somehow or other, she does have powers no one else has, and she’s starting to realize just how strong those powers might be.

It all comes to a head with the arrival of Thor. Jane went out with Darcy and Erik to watch for an incoming storm. Christina had to stay home, as this could be dangerous. So, of course, she snuck along in the back hidden under a blanket. She’s right there when Thor falls from the sky. Terrified that they’re all about to die, Christina unleashes a HUGE wave of magic. Big enough to disrupt the bifrost and send Thor flying into a nearby rock formation. He hits his head hard, and as he is now human. this is not an insignificant injury.

In fact, when they get to the hospital, the poor stranger has already slipped into a coma. Jane is left to comfort her hysterical daughter who won’t stop blaming herself for what happened, She finally admits the truth about her powers to Jane and demonstrates by summoning a pen from the nurse’s station. Jane is shocked and has no idea what to do. Christina interprets this as her mother being scared of her and runs away. Jane chases after her. By the time she turns the corner, Christina is gone. Jane searches the entire hospital, but her little girl is nowhere to be found.

Now comes Loki. He’s been pretty out of it ever since losing Jane. Though it’s been close to a decade on Earth, that barely feels like a week to him. Now Thor has been banished, he has some truly uncomfortable questions to ask Odin about his origins, and to top it all off, one of his old enemies has just randomly appeared with a little girl in tow.

(NOTE: I honestly have no idea who the enemy would be. If I actually wrote this I’d just figure it out later)

His enemy mocks him for growing soft and not protecting his progeny like he should have. Loki has no idea what the hell this guy is talking about until he gets a better look at the girl. Her midnight black hair, terrified blue eyes, that face just like a younger Jane.

Jane...

He hadn’t looked in on her since he left. He just couldn’t bring himself to. Now he wishes to all his ancestors that he had. The enemy issues a challenge, daring him to come and save his newfound daughter. He disappears with Christina, and try as he might, Loki can’t trace where they’ve gone. He has a few ideas, but he’s going to need some help.

And he’s going to need to correct some old mistakes as well.

At the hospital, the police have arrived and are searching for the missing girl. Jane curls up in the waiting room, thinking of everything that led them to this point. If only she hadn’t accepted the grant money. If only she’d gone somewhere else to search for bridges. If only she’d paid enough attention to her own fucking child to know that she was literally psychic. Or magic. Or something!

While she cries, a shadow appears over her. When Jane looks up, a tall man with dark hair and eyes like Christina is watching her.

It all comes flooding back.

She remembers Loki. She remembers their kiss, that monster thing that kidnapped her. Loki saved her, and then he told her they’d never see each other again. Then she woke up at home as if from a dream and it was like he never existed at all.

But he had. She knew now that she had, and she had a daughter to prove it.

Which still begs the question of how. She knows now that they definitely didn’t have sex. Loki’s theory is that his magic somehow infused with latent abilities within Jane herself (she might actually have a small percentage of Asgardian in her) and created a child born of them both. It’s a tenuous idea at best, but it’s all he has right now, and who even cares how Christina was conceived. Point is, she exists and she’s been kidnapped and Thor is in a freaking coma now and can’t help them. Time to gear up and save their kid!

Not going to go into too much detail here as I’ve already written way too much. Basically, Loki teaches Jane to harness the magic within. She already knows a few knife tricks from self-defense classes, so Loki gives her a new knife that never dulls and is virtually indestructible. When she’s ready, they strike out to find their daughter in the enemy’s secret hideout. At some point, Thor wakes up and rushes to help his brother. His willingness to go to a far off planet and fight to the death for a child he’s never met makes him worth of Mjolnir again at just the right time. Loki and Jane rescue their little girl, who instinctively knows her father the moment she sees him. The enemy is defeated and now they’re free to start over and live as the family they were always meant to be.

#Lokane #Loki #Jane Foster #fic prompt #fic I won't write

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erekiosuncreativeideas · 4 years

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What if after you finish The Part-Time Puppeteer THEN you could write a Lukas/MJ ship fic?

You know, I thought about that, actually ! But the problem is that I’m really bad at writing romance. I don’t feel romantic nor sexual attraction towards anyone, so it’s hard for me to put myself in the characters’ shoes. But it doesn’t mean I haven’t tried before ! I’m going to put a “read more”, because it might be a bit long and I don’t want to flood anyone’s timeline with my explanations.

So yeah. When I was younger, I wrote a 350 000 words long “”romance”” fanfiction + its 90 000 words long sequel and, believe me, it’s absolutely GARBAGE. Well, on the other hand, the relationship in these was purposely toxic, for the sake of the story, but man, was it wrong. Wrong on so many levels, trust me. And oh, there were other fanfics too, but they really weren’t as long. Anyway, these fanfics are one of the reasons I had a 2 years long writing and art block. I couldn’t write anything during this period or, at least, not more than a first chapter.

I always wrote toxic romantic relationship before because I used to be unable to write fluff, so I was like “heh, let’s write angsty and toxic relationships then !” and... Yeah, I wrote some pretty disturbing things in the past and I don’t want to do it again. I deleted those fanfictions from my Fanfiction.NET account because I really don’t want anyone to find these and associate them to me. I was a stupid teenager back then and I made a lot of mistakes. Now I know better.

I even changed my nickname because I became so ashamed of who I used to be on the Internet. “Erekio” is a very recent name, like, it was literally born on 11/11/2018. If you’re really curious, my old username was “Katia27″, though I would really prefer not to be adressed this way again. It reminds me of a lot of bad memories I want to forget. I wrote a lot of wrong fanfictions and I don’t want to be remembered for them.

But then, you might ask “yeah, but now you know how to write fluff, so why don’t you give it a shot ?” and... Honestly, I could. But I’m so afraid of doing the same mistakes again and again. Writing romance is something I’m not good at, maybe because I’m aro/ace and thus can’t relate to the characters. Sometimes, writing romance even makes me uncomfortable. I realized that only a few months ago, when I tried to get back into my AWFUL FANFICTIONS, only to understand that the reason of my writing block was because I didn’t like writing this genre, especially with how wrong it turned out to be. I then deleted them not long after.

However, with that said, I could share all my ideas and headcanons if you want to read them ! I might not be able to write an entire fanfic out of it (plus, the current puppet fanfic IS FAR FROM FINISHED xD), but I can share what I have in mind if you’re interested ! Sorry, that’s probably not the answer you were expecting. Like I said, I could try, but I know I won’t take any pleasure from doing so. Talking about it, though, is something I feel comfortable doing.

#Anon #Erekio talks #Erekio answers

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marshmallowgoop · 5 years

Text

On Ragyo Kiryuin

Please note: This post will contain discussions of sexual assault and abuse.

I am not good at talking about Ragyo Kiryuin.

Every time I do, I mess it up. I don’t emphasize her atrocities enough. I emphasize her atrocities too much. I cause trouble for myself and others, and I always end up feeling awful.

My recent writing on Ragyo’s character—found here and here—proved no different. The reception for the first post was so overwhelmingly negative that it spurred on my first-ever legitimate anon hate, and the second post only made things worse. Even now, my inbox is being filled with dismissive, rude, heartbreaking messages that bring me to tears, and though my therapist has told me not to say that I hate myself anymore, it’s difficult not to in situations like these. I hate that my wording was so poor and that I stated my opinion so badly that I incited all this rage and aggression in someone (or someones, a thought that scares me more than I would like to admit).

It may be a mistake to try to explain myself further. But I hurt people with what I said, and that bothers me. I hurt people because I struggle to explain my feelings on a cartoon character well, and I’m sorry. I’m embarrassed. I’m ashamed. I want to at least put in the effort to be kinder, more nuanced, and more sympathetic.

And maybe it’ll all blow up in my face. But I don’t want to not try.

So. Ragyo Kiryuin. Mother of Satsuki Kiryuin and Ryuko Matoi, CEO of REVOCS, and the ultimate Big Bad of Kill la Kill. Love her, hate her, or love her and hate her, she’s certainly made an impression in the anime-viewing world. And though I can’t speak for anyone else’s impression, my personal impression is... mixed.

Let’s go through this bit by bit.

A Good Villain?

Though I don’t see it much anymore, I remember lots of comparisons between Ragyo and the villains of Saturday morning cartoons back in the day. She was described as a generic, two-dimensional “evilz for the sake of evilz” baddie and criticized for her simplicity.

And though I did admittedly agree to an extent—I craved a lot more depth and insight, particularly in regards to her haunting line about “still having something of a human heart” whilst brutally attacking her own daughter in the final episode—I also found Ragyo to be a remarkably compelling, powerful, and horrifying villain even without tons of backstory and explanation. Perhaps my write-up on her first scene in episode 6 best details why; this woman has such a presence, and the visual language of the series amplifies that presence spectacularly. Ragyo’s intimidating and scary without the audience even needing to know anything about her.

And... I’d say that’s a good villain. That’s exactly what a villain should do.

Why Does This Matter, Goop?

I know, I know. My talking about Ragyo’s efficiency as a villain probably doesn’t seem all that relevant to the stuff that egged on an anon hate assault. But I think it’s important to mention that I do believe that Ragyo is a great, powerful villain. My previous posts were so bleak and cynical that I didn’t make this point clear. It does, in retrospect, seem as though I am crapping all over the character and subtly dissing anyone who enjoys her. I’m sorry for that, and I want to stress that that was not at all my intention.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with loving villains—even when they’re morally bankrupt, atrocious people like Ragyo—because loving villains, of course, doesn’t automatically mean that you excuse or endorse their actions. Villains like Ragyo also leave such a strong impression on the viewers, and personally, I’ve been so captivated by this awful woman that my first attempt at my years-in-the-making Kill la Kill fairytale AU featured about a 30,000-word backstory for her. There is a lot to respect, love, and love to hate when it comes to Ragyo and how she’s written, and I never, ever mean to discount that.

However, as with all things, it’s possible to love a piece of fiction or a character or what have you and also recognize that there are problems in the portrayal. And when it comes to Ragyo, as much as I think she’s a fantastic, engaging, terrifying villain, I do take issue with her depiction.

The Sexuality Point

I got a lot of heat for my ideas regarding Ragyo’s sexuality, and I admit: I didn’t express myself well. There was a lot more I should have said and elaborated upon. Maybe I’ll still fail spectacularly, but as I said before, I don’t want to not try.

So first, I want to take a moment to discuss intentionality. While I absolutely value Author is Dead and respect fan interpretations of any work, I also recognize that narrative decisions in fiction don’t happen in a vacuum. The fact of the matter is, Ragyo was originally designed as a father but was later changed to a mother so the relationships Ragyo shares with her daughters wouldn’t seem so “murky,” “gross,” and “perverted.”

And... that disturbs me. The idea, as I see it, is that a father abusing his daughters is, more than appropriately, disgusting, but a mother abusing her daughters is somehow less bad. In fact, writer Kazuki Nakashima outright states that he didn’t want to explore the “murkiness” of these relationships, noting that he “didn’t want to mix [that] ‘murkiness’ into the battle.” My impression—which I understand might very well be wrong—is that there’s the feeling that female-on-female abuse just isn’t as serious or life changing as male-on-female abuse. There’s the feeling that you can just not talk about how devastating this sexual assault is, and that’s totally okay, because the perpetrator is a woman.

I’ve written previously—and perhaps most overtly here—that female-on-female abuse seems to get brushed off way more than it should be. It’s cute when a girl grabs another girl’s boobs, even when that other girl is noticeably and visibly unhappy. It’s adorable when a girl forces a kiss on another girl. Charming. Sweet. If you have a problem with it, you’re a homophobe.

And I think that’s so, so damaging. I wish I had some statistics (oh anon hounding me about facts, if you’re here), but I recall reading about how this mindset—this idea that girls just can’t hurt other girls—ends up keeping wlw in abusive, toxic relationships. And that’s not even mentioning how the notion that women are harmless and can’t do damage is a totally sexist one that hurts men and other genders, too!

With Ragyo, I actually think there’s a lot of powerful potential. Kill la Kill could have shown that there’s nothing sweet or cute or charming or sexy about female-on-female abuse. It could have shown that a mother sexually abusing her daughters is just as horrific as a father sexually abusing his daughters. Both good representation and bad representation are important, and I do see the value in an evil, awful lesbian; as noted above, the idea that girls can’t hurt other girls, that wlw can’t be bad, and that only men can cause harm is a dangerous mindset to have. I think it’s important to address it, particularly in anime, which attracts younger viewers.

In the past, I argued that Kill la Kill did address it. I wrote, “These scenes [depicting Ragyo’s abuses] are full of what may be typically used as fanservice—female nudity, fondling, touching—but they’re all incredibly disturbing, uncomfortable, painful, and tragic. The series makes no joke about just how violating these instances are.” I’ve seen similar arguments made today.

But personally, now knowing more about the creation of Ragyo and being aware of the gushy, “Wow, this is so hot!”-type comments concerning the notorious bath scene in the official Trigger Magazine, I’ve since changed my tune. I think it’s undeniable that there is some “this isn’t so bad and maybe actually kinda sexy” appeal to Ragyo’s abuses, and that’s very, very disappointing to me.

Further, being a survivor, I also find it incredibly hurtful. I’ve been too traumatized to even date ever since what happened to me happened, and to see situations like what I went through depicted in such explicit, detailed, fanservice-y ways... it disturbs me.

I understand that my opinion isn’t going to be shared by everyone, but I’ve come to believe in a “less is more” approach when it comes to these hard, real situations. Implication arguably holds far more power. For example, in all of my college film classes, Osama left one of the strongest impressions. In it, a young girl dresses as a boy to provide for her family. She’s eventually found out when she has her first period, and she’s then married off to a much older man. The ending scene of the film depicts the man washing himself just as the girl, in disguise as a boy, had been taught to do after having sex. Unlike in Kill la Kill, you don’t see the unspeakable scene at all. You know exactly what happened with just that one shot, and that one shot has stuck with me ever since. That’s a powerful, respectful way of portraying these very real, very horrific problems.

I know I cannot speak for every survivor, but I personally disagree with the notion that fiction should not discuss these topics. In my mind, fiction absolutely should because these things are real, because they happen. There could have been so much power in Ragyo’s depiction, in Satsuki’s depiction, in Ryuko’s. But the severity of Ragyo’s abuses is brushed off, and, as I see it, fetishized. That’s what I take issue with—not that there’s a potential evil lesbian, not that there’s a depiction of a mother abusing her daughters, but how this is depicted: not respectfully.

Referring more to my troublesome posts, I also want to address my point of how girls showing affection for other girls is often portrayed negatively in Kill la Kill, which could potentially send the message, “Hey, lesbians just be evilz.” Perhaps more than anything else, this hurt my readers the most. I wasn’t very clear and didn’t speak well, and I apologize.

Maybe surprisingly, I’ve also taken issue with the argument that Ryuko kissing Nui shows that a girl having an attraction towards another girl is bad. As I saw it, the kiss was simply a shocking way of showing that Ryuko is not at all herself; someone kissing the person they hate the most says more than words ever could. The scene isn’t an attack on wlw; the protagonist and the villain in this case just so happen to both be girls.

And I still believe this rebuttal. But I also have mixed feelings, which explains my previous responses. I once more have to question intentionality: if Ryuko were a boy, as shonen heroes so often are, would this scene have happened? Would Nui have been so flirty with him? Would there have been so much screen time and detail put into the kiss? Similar to my arguments about Ragyo, could there have been a potentially much more powerful scene whose power comes from its implications, not what it actually shows?

In all my years in the Kill la Kill fandom, I’ve seen reactions to that scene that find it hot, as “proving” that Ryuko/Nui is the only canon Kill la Kill pairing, and that see it in ways that I find to be unsavory. If the goal of that kiss is to cement the fact that Ryuko isn’t herself in the most shocking way possible, I could argue that it failed for a lot of viewers. In fact, one of my more looked-at posts is about why Ryuko kisses Nui. Its execution is confusing, and yes, I do believe it could potentially send some bad messages about wlw, even if that wasn’t intended.

Which, to bring this discussion back towards Ragyo, I want to take a moment to say that bad messages can be totally unintentional. As a writer myself, I think about potential bad unintentional messages all the time. For instance, in my aforementioned fairytale AU, I had a theme going (’cause it’s a fairytale and all): a healthy, beautiful baby is good, a healthy, ugly baby is bad, and an unhealthy, beautiful baby is good. Notice how there’s only one ugly baby, and they’re bad? I realized that this could subtly say something about ugly people, and I’ve decided to make a point about a heroic character being ugly in order to send the message that anyone can be good or bad, regardless of if they’re beautiful or ugly, healthy or unhealthy.

With Ragyo (and with Nui as well), I don’t at all think the intention is to show that girls loving other girls is wrong and bad. But the depiction, to me, leaves things to be desired. A lot of it feels fetishy, and the fact that Ragyo was purposely changed to a woman for “gross” concerns also greatly irks me.

And before I try to write up a conclusion of sorts, I do want to offer this: what if Ragyo stayed a man, but he was associated with white and rainbows as Ragyo is in the final cut? It was stated at this year’s Anime Expo that director Hiroyuki Imaishi has his heroic characters in black and villainous characters in white, which could possibly send messages like Darkness Isn’t Bad and the real villains are the ones who are perverting the purity, goodness, and so on that are associated with white. In the same way, if Ragyo were a man who seemed straight but had rainbow hair, it could send the message that the real villain is the one perverting this symbol of love and acceptance.

I don’t know. Just some food for thought.

Conclusion

I am bad at talking about Ragyo. I am bad at talking about serious topics. I’m sure this post proves as much.

But I hope I’ve done a better job of explaining my point of view than I did before. But if I didn’t—which, knowing me, is likely—I just want everyone to know that I don’t think you’re a reprehensible person if you like Ragyo. I don’t think Ragyo is “too evil” to be representation. I don’t think she’s some terrible, awful character whom nobody can love. (At least, in regards to the writing. I hope there’s agreement that she’s a terrible, awful person.)

While I have problems with Ragyo’s depiction, I don’t think anyone is horrible and wrong if they don’t and resonate with it. I know I certainly like things that others find horrible and wrong, like the Ryuko/Senketsu pairing that I’ve been attacked left and right for, and I more than recognize and voice my own problems with it whilst still loving what I love (and politely disagreeing with the problems that others see that I don’t!)

I know I’m not good at this. But I hope I’ve conveyed my thoughts respectfully, and that, even if you strongly disagree, you know I welcome and am open to your thoughts and perspective, if you would like to share. That’s why I write these posts at all.

#kill la kill #ragyo kiryuin #analysis #ragyo discourse #ramblings #serious talk #the discourse #abuse mention #i'm sorry if this is awful i just got it confirmed that i do have adhd and hyper-focused on this even though i shouldn't have #and i haven't eaten all day 'cause i've been dying to finish this and i've spent several hours on it and... i'm trying #i'm sorry but i really really am trying

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spookyboywhump · 4 years

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🍅🍇💧❤ from 'another ask game' for Wren, Zander, Cain and Vanessa! Don't have to answer each question for all character if it's too much ^^'

Thank you so much for these!!

I tried to get through all of them but I blanked out completely on 🍅 and had to skip it, I am v sorry (I also realized I really need to flesh out Vanessa some more)

This got kinda long so Below Cut!

🍇 Does your OC have any bad habits? Does your OC have any addictions like smoking or drinking? How did they fall into these habits and why?

Wren: Wren has a terrible habit of picking at the skin around his fingernails when he’s nervous or anxious, which is unfortunately often. It’s been a bad habit since he was a kid and despite his best efforts he’s never really been able to stop it. He’s not one to smoke or drink (which is probably for the best because it does not take a lot to get him Drunk)

Zander: Zander has several bad habits, mostly unhealthy coping mechanisms that only end up hurting himself more. While he doesn’t smoke or drink he does have an issue with strong painkillers, and would probably have an awful addiction to them if he had regular access. Since his current situation doesn’t really allow for a healthy handle on things mentally or physically, terrible solutions are about all he has.

Cain: Cain’s whole life is probably bad habits lmao but he does have a bit of a drinking problem. Even though he’s really only a “social drinker” he doesn’t really know when to stop and he gets drunk easily (Zander actually prefers this because he’s much nicer drunk than he is sober)

Vanessa: While she’s not as bad as Cain she also has a bit of a drinking problem, and she does smoke from time to time. Most of Vanessa’s bad habits were born from her trying to see exactly how much she could get away with when she was younger (Spoiler alert: it was a lot)

💧 What is something from your OC’s past they’re the most ashamed of and why? What is something they’re really proud of? And lastly what is something in their past that could make them shake with dread?

Wren: I haven’t really talked much about Wren’s backstory (despite the fact I have it all worked out) so here’s a Piece Of That Mess.

The thing he’s most ashamed of is not only feeling relieved when his mother passed, but also not being with her when it happened. He could’ve been, he was told he should be ready for it to happen, but due to the state of their relationship he just couldn’t bring himself to be there, and at the time it felt like the only option, now however he feels as if he was unnecessarily cruel letting her pass away with no family around.

As for the thing he’s most proud of, it would be landing the job he currently has. It’s probably one of the only things he’s proud of, knowing that all his hard work finally paid off and actually got him somewhere in life.

And as for dread

At some point in his life he lost somebody very close to him, and there is nothing that can break him down more than the memory of when he found out that unfortunate news.

Cain: There isn’t a lot that he’s particularly ashamed of, but that’s probably because the one thing he is, he’s so ashamed it passes straight into that dreaded past memory territory. I feel like even though he would say differently, there really isn’t a lot that Cain is proud of? He’s a complete shit person and even though it wouldn’t be something he says out loud, he doesn’t actually think highly of himself or anything he’s ever done.

Which brings us to the thing in his past that he dreads which *rubs hands together* fun stuff

At one point, a few years after he got Zander, he killed someone. He didn’t mean to, it wasn’t supposed to happen, and while Cain is a lot of shitty things, he’s not exactly meant to be a killer. It’s one of the only things he feels genuinely guilty over, and something that even Zander wouldn’t dare to bring up to him.

❤️ What inspired you to make this OC? How long have you had them? How have they changed in the time you’ve been developing them?

I’ve had all these ocs for roughly a little over a month now, when I started coming up with this whole story!

Wren: When I was coming up with the idea of the story I wanted to have two whumpees, one experienced and one inexperienced. Though he kind of turned out to be a bit more Soft Baby than I intended the more I developed him.

Zander: Zander was actually created before Wren for this story (which might be why I keep getting more invested in him), and his original concept was both a guard dog and a fighting dog. I like the guard dog aesthetic of a tall, angry, scary man in a spiked collar, but when I actually started writing the thought completely slipped my mind because guess who said “I don’t need to write that down”. He was supposed to be just an overall angry and mean bastard of a whumpee but the more I worked out his backstory and all that the more he got kinda Soft (sometimes)

(Also funnily enough, his name was originally Cain)

Cain: Tbh the inspiration for Cain was more like taking a step away from my preferred type of whumper, the creepy intimate kind, and just go for some feral bastard. When I originally made him I wanted him to be an older man but the more I wrote him the more he just seemed like a spoiled rich kid and I pictured him younger.

(And related to Zander almost being named Cain, Cain was almost named Zander)

Vanessa: Ironically, Vanessa was originally created in order to help Wren. I had wanted there to be someone who was very involved with this whole situation but either didn’t want to be/had some reason to want to stop it and could help him in some way. However, I am admittedly weak for Evil Ladies and when I realized she could just make his life harder, she ended up being… this

#oc stuff #Wren #Zander #Cain #Vanessa #I hope these are good #Thank you!!!#galaxywhump

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cienie-isengardu · 5 years

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☆, ■, ♡, ♒, ☼, ൠ (maybe... a fashion/style-related headcanon; no Jedi robes allowed for this question?), and ◉ (Do you think you have anything common with this character, personally? If so, what are they?) for Anakin Skywalker (I love your detail-orientated and insightful meta posts on him; that's why your writing is so good and I wanted to meet you).

Awww, thank you so much! I’m sorry it took me so long to answer, but somehow headcanons kinda get longer than I was planning :D

☆ - happy headcanon

The first time Anakin took part in podraces, he almost died. It was horrible moment of life for mother, he knew, but flying made him so damn happy, he couldn't help himself and treasure the memory. The feeling when he was flying with high speed - too fast to get caught by master's anger, too fast to think about past failures and pain, too fast to look back - was like salvation.

Of course, he crashed that day. He was scolded by Watto and laughed at by Sebulba. But it was the first time he tasted freedom and he knew since that day freedom was reachable even for a slave.

■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

Anakin was growing up in poverty, so he was used to lack of luxury.

The little living space he and Shmi had for themselves was well groomed - everything had its own place to lay, everything was treated well. Anakin from younger years was taught that the better he takes care for his own possessions, the longer items may have been used. What could be repaired, should be repaired. What could be re-used as something different, should be re-used. What was no longer needed should be given away to other people in need. Money for home was spent sparingly and wisely. Though Skywalker family never had too many money, Shmi sometimes allowed herself to buy something nice to home to make the old, yellowish-gray building a bit more colorful and happy place to live. From her Anakin learnt that he does not need a luxury items to make living quarters feels like true home.

Jedi did not care for luxury either, so he had never feel jealous nor need to have better equipped home. Shmi taught him to take care of his things, so his living quarters were always tidy, clothes clean and folded and put in closet. The only one exception was electrical parts, spare parts for machines and all kinds of tools that Anakin used everyday, as a slave and Jedi. The little working space he had for himself was full of random things, quite often found outside and brought home for repair. Even though for some (mainly the Jedi) it looked like cramped - not proper for a padawan, even less for Knight - space, everything was still put in right place in this chaos.

When he was a slave or Jedi, living quarters were mainly use for work and sleep and sometimes to hide from pain, judging look of masters and their scorn.

Living with Padme was pretty easy. Her homes, on Coruscant and Naboo alike, were spacious, colorful, with nice view on beautiful sky or lake. Inside everything was tidy and elegant looking but it took months to get used to these places. Padme's apartment lacked personal items, making the beautiful interior space feeling a bit cold. Except for her bedroom, where she kept holopictures of her family and friends, her beloved holobooks, drawings made by nieces, all the trinkets; the most precious and dearest items that had nothing to do with expensive jewelry. That spoke about her too much that she didn't want - couldn't - put those on display just like that.

During war when Padme wasn't on Coruscant, Anakin would not sleep in their bedroom. It was too empty, too lonely to lay down there. He wouldn't go to Temple either, if he had a choice in the matter. Hangar where he spent hours repairing and tweaking this or that in his and his men starfighters was like second home to him. The same was with headquarters of 501st Legion in which Anakin and Rex spent hours writing reports and doing all paperworks between missions. If there was no need to be at Temple, Anakin remain there all night. The couch that he may or may not steal borrow from the corridor was comfortable enough to sleep on (although quite often it was occupied by sleeping Rex who didn't feel like leaving his general when Skywalker still worked even though the man told him to get some rest), and he may or may not bring electric kettle or any other poor machinery that was thrown away that needed just a bit repairing to work again. Oh, and okay, maybe he did ask Padme to buy some nice tea and coffee so 501st could have their own stash instead of rely of canteen assignment. Cookies was just a gift from lovely wife though.

♡ - romantic headcanon

Anakin is not really good with words. Basic language was not his native tongue (not even a second, that was Huttese) and frankly, it was not his fault the language was so, well, basic and lacked words to express his feelings. Okay, maybe he wasn't the best person to communicate his feelings in the first place, but the lack of correct words did not help. With is why he sometimes sound so awkward around Padme. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, but she would not understand the proper words of his native language.

With is why Anakin express his feeling though little gifts. Not the one bought by money (he did not have money, after all), but hand made by him. Japor snippet, when he was a kid was not romantic gift, really, but it carried all the feelings and hopes he wished to tell Padme, but lacked proper words. He give to his wife the cut down padawan's braid when he was knighted; a special memento of his ambitions and dreams and adulthood, so she knew he was a man, loyal and dedicated not only to Jedi, but to her especially. As knight should be to his queen. He wrote letters to Padme between one battle and another, so she knew he was alive and in love with her all the time. He would cook something tasty when they were together for a night or two, or bring some little pretty or unique things that made him think of her while found on mission.

Padme may not understand words he says in his native language, but she understand meaning of the gifts. Anakin cares for her, loves her, thinks of her all the time, in peace and war.

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Between Ob-Wan, Anakin and Padme, Skywalker is the only one that actually should be allowed into kitchen without fear of making mess and burning something. He may not be the best of the best cooks ever (there was little time for Shmi to taught him and Jedi do not teach padawans to cook) but he is pretty good on his own. When he was a boy, he liked those peaceful moments when he could help mother with dinner. They could talk about events of the days, share secrets, plan home budget for another week. As a padawan, he felt weird to not be allowed into kitchen, to rely on droids and kitchen staff to have food. He missed mother very much every time he eat some tasty and rich food; somehow even so good food did not taste that well if he could not share it with Shmi. Now, after her death, cooking by himself feel weird. He likes though the moments when he and Padme cook together, even if Padme just cuts and peels the needed vegetables or prepares other ingredients.

Sometimes, when there is mission for small team and there is time and no danger, Anakin is teaching Ahsoka some basic cooking skills as well. Of course, all padawans are taught how to survive on their own in wilderness, but that is not the same as home cooking. Cooking in field kitchen is not the same as making dinner for Padme either, but he does not mind to cook for always hungry Ahsoka and bunch of curious clone troopers who loves free food that actually has a taste.

Anakin and his men hunt for food as much as it is possible, to not rely all the time on supplies - one never know when they will be under attack again and supplies then will need last for days, it is not wise to eat them if there are other food sources available.

On Tatooine only rich people could be truly picky eater. Anakin grew up in poverty, thus learned to eat anything that will keep him alive. Every food, no matter how awful tasting was something to be thankful for. On missions, he may or may not eat bugs sometimes just to unnerve his master though.

☼ - appearance headcanon

Anakin does not pay much attention to his appearance. Like, he is always making sure he is clean, clothes washed and fresh and no holes, but he does not care otherwise how he looks. Unless he is put under high pressure that makes him very well aware he is gonna be judged by everything and the smallest detail slightly less than perfect may meet with disapproval. Which is pretty much how he feels all the time when he must meet with Jedi Council. Until the war, at least, because on frontlines everyone look messy. Even members of Jedi Council.

Shmi taught him to take care of his things and poverty taught him to respect what he little own which is why Anakin does not drop his Jedi coat on every occasion like his master does all the time. During war, Obi-Wan needed to ask time after time for replacement for his lost (or ruined )Jedi robes. Anakin prefers to mend and darn his own clothes (and Ahsoka, because no padawan of his is gonna fight in clothes full of holes, thank you very much). He likes to repair things, and even mending holes feels calming. Sometimes, during stress, he is literally mending and darning every clothes he get his hands on. His, Obi-Wan's, Ahsoka's, sometimes even Rex's kama.

Anakin has a lot scars. The one across eye is well known and visible but rest is hidden under heavy Jedi robes. He is not really ashamed by them but he hates when people keep asking about his scars. Because sometimes it is really hard to explain how he got some of them. Jedi do not understand scars from beating by Gardulla's stewards because he did not lower his head quick enough, from drunk scum who threw at him empty bottle, from crashing during podraces. It easier to keep scars hiden; he does not stand out too much from other padawans then.

He has scars that reminds him of childhood in slavery, some from various missions with Obi-Wan, when they together travelled through the galaxy. Some were fresh and new, from brutal fight on many battlefronts. Padme always looks so shocked, so terrified by them he almost feels guilty for showing new scar to her. Almost, because she always kiss him gently, the soft touch of her fingers gliding on the marred skin does not carry any fear, only compassion, only love.

Anakin has one tattoo, in the place where the bomb was once placed inside him. Jedi took it out, freed him from the fear of violent death. But time passed, but he still did not feel free. He needed more noticeable evidence, something much much solid than promises. The tattoo is not big and simply, just Tatooine symbol understood by few people, mainly by slaves. A symbol he risked his life and won his freedom. The tattoo is rarely seen by anyone, but it does not matter. It's not something to look pretty or tough, just statement for Anakin's own peace of mind.

Also, he would never ever grow a beard. He is the type of clean shaving and beside he would not want to look like Obi-Wan. Just no.

ൠ - random headcanon: a fashion/style-related headcanon; no Jedi robes allowed for this question?

Anakin, if he had a chance to pick up clothes for himself, would wear something between military-like and sports motorcyclist style. Army boots, cargo pants and loose shirt, maybe leather jacket or long wool coat, in case of cold. Anything practical yet simple. And in dark (brown and black) colors.

Frankly, the clothes he wore on Naboo in Attack of Clones are what I think he would wear on normal day.

In case of AU modern times, I picture Anakin's fashion sense as a mix of motorbike, military and rock/metalman fashion. Oh, and if he wear dog tags, I'm sure he would keep wedding ring there. And most likely just say the ring is special gift of closest friend if his marriage with Padme was still keep in secret.

◉ - Any other question of your choosing: (Do you think you have anything common with this character, personally? If so, what are they?

Oh, I think I have many things in common with Anakin. The feeling that people are more important than institutions or abstract meaning, valuing friendship above everything else and the strong sense of loyalty to those I'm close with. Oh, and most likely not dealing well with too many emotions albeit Anakin's had much more rough life than me, and a lot trauma to blame on. Me? I'm just asocial person who does not like feelings.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #ahsoa tano #clone troopers #my headcanons #headcanon meme #my replies

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bonneyq · 5 years

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I am saddened by your announcement But I will continue to support you. :) about your new project, I know for Sure that you will do well on it. I read all your stories and you are really really amazing!! I would just like to know if you will give us a summary of the ending of your stories like The Duchess, The Birds and the Bees, Much Stronger than Forever and Someone Else’s Life. I really love those stories and would like to know how it supposed to end. Thank you!

Thanks for the support, sweetheart! But here we go! Let’s talk about my plans oh how I would’ve handled some of my stories, since I’ll most likely not end them.

1. The Birds and the Bees: Honestly, I had just this scene in my head where Juvia tells Gray she needed to wear a wedding ring when she went out and lie her age, tell people she always looked young. so not to be judged by older people. Anther scene was of a parents’ metting at school wanting her to be expelled and Silver going full protective over her and later on, Gray moving in with her. I started this story when I started to get sick, so… not much thought into it, I’m afraid.

2. Much Stronger than Forever: When they’d arrive at Polyuska’s, she would have another potion for Juvia, since she started to remember, something to boost her memories and the thing that would “finish” it, would be Gray kissing her. Cliché, I know, but I promise I would’ve made it real nice haha

3. Someone Else’s Life: Another cliché one, but just after the baby was born, I would make Gray faint and wake up at the hospital, before all of it began. He would’ve been hit with some weird magic that allowed him to see the future, it meant ti be just for a few minutes, but he was in a coma and stayed longer. He would literally cry because he learned to love his son, Future!Juvia and the new baby and would like to return but what would help him through it would be the knowledge it would happen eventually. Again, cliché. HAHAHA

Sorry, so many clichés. My excuse is that I was so much younger when I wrote those last two, sorry.

Now onto the one everyone seems to wonder about… LOL

4. The Duchess: Okay, I’m very jealous of this one so I’m gonna just give in the basics, I’m sorry for being selfish AHAH. So, Juvia would be pregnant again because she thought she couldn’t be again while breastfeeding (which you TOTALLY can) and when she was around, 5 months or so, her and Gray would decide to go to her lands to take a look before they couldn’t travel anymore. They were going to take Ava as well, Silver too, the whole party.

Silver would sense something was wrong and tell Juvia to leave the ship slowly, with Ava (Gray was yet to board) but their escape was noticed and the ship started to sail. Arriving in Juvia’s lands, she and Ava would be locked in different rooms, only allowed to see each other once a day. Jose knew Gray would learn he was behind the stealing jewels and take his title and lands and he couldn’r let it happen. He meant to kill Gray when he arrived and once Juvia delivered, kill her too so he’d have the two heirs of great lands into his hands.

Silver had escaped the moment they arrived and one night, around two months after they got captured, Silver would reappears to save them. He’d die protecting and giving them time to run while both Juvia and Ava escaped.

They would meet Ur, who was sent by Silver, to take them back to Avalanche Castle and she’d tell Juvia to dye her hair dark so if anyone asked, Juvia was his daughter and she was escorting her and her granddaughter back home - people were looking for a pregnant woman and a toddler the first few days, not two women and a toddler. It takes them roughly a month to get close to the Castle (meanwhile Gray was going insane without his wife and daughter, but he couldn’t attack even having a greater army because Jose would kill them to keep the lands to himself).

Baby number 2, just when a snow storm starts (if it hadn’t, they would’ve been able to reach Avalanche Castle), decides to arrive early and Juvia tells them to change ways. So you guys remember when Juvia learned she was pregnant for the first time? After the Avalanche? She tells them to go to that town and they knock on the door of Nina, who is a midwife.

Of course Baby Number 2 is a troublemaker so it’s not in position, instead, it is on its side and to get it into a good position, they’d have to perform a difficult and painful maneuver and Juvia could bleed to death so she asks Ur if she doesn’t make it, to take Ava and the baby to Avalanche Castle and if her husband is not there, to not trust anyone and take them to their uncle, Lyon, to his castle. Ur had grown fond of Juvia and promises her, even though she tells her nothing will happen.

They do the procedure and Juvia blacks out after that.

Cuts to Gray in Avalanche Castle, looking like crap and helpless…

..and you know what??? I’m gonna write that scene because I’ve thought about it way too much not to.

Gray’swalking the Great Hall of Avalanche Castle to go to his office, where his counselwaited for him. It had been 3 months. Three awful months without Juvia, theirunborn child, Ava, his father and he was about to lose his mind.

“Dada!” Hethought he heard and shook his head – he was hearing things now, great. Then he heard small steps andanother call of “Dada!” and it made him stop and turn, just in case someone hadcalled him and he somehow changed it into that in his mind. He wasn’t sleepingwell so it could very well happen.

All hiseyes could focus were on a little girl dressed in commoner’s dirty clothes,mostly, but the dark hair and blue eyes and that face, she looked just like Juvia it hurt his heart.

“Ava? How…?”He whispered to himself and didn’t even realized he was walking at thedirection of the little girl until he met her and pulled her from the ground,hugging her as tight as he could. “Ava? Ava.”He kept saying, his eyes watering. “Oh, please, don’t let me be hallucinating.”He hugged her harder.

“No, Dada!”Ava wiggled in discomfort. “Hurt Ava, Dada!”

“I’m sorry,sweetheart.” He was crying then and started to kiss her chubby cheek and hehugged her again. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much. How are you here?”

“It is quitea tale, milord.” He looked up and saw two dark haired women but he didn’t paymuch attention to them, more interested in hugging his daughter. Gray couldn’tbelieve he was holding her again, a piece of his heart was back.

“What aboutmy wife?” He asked, while looking at Ava and then to the little girl. “Where’s Mama?”He was afraid whoever they were, they could only smuggled Ava out.

At the sametime Ava pointed towards the two women, his whole body tensed when he heard: “Juviachanges her hair for a few weeks and you don’t recognize her anymore?”

Graysnapped his head so fast to look at the women it was a wonder how he didn’t hurthis neck. The older woman had her arms around the younger dark haired one, whohad a blanket over her simple clothes.

Finally looking at her, he could see her. Hecould see Juvia just a few meters away from him.

If he hadn’t been holding his daughter in hisarms, Gray’s knees would’ve given up.

“Juvia?” He said, voice low but she must’veheard him because she gave him a small watery smile.

“Sorry it took us so long to come home.” Eyeswide and tearing up, he finally made his body move and walk towards her, slowlyas if he ran she would disappear in front of him. The moment he was in front ofher, he looked into her blue eyes, still afraid she was an illusion. “Hi,Gray-sama.”

With the arm he wasn’t holding Ava with, hepulled Juvia close to his chest and he wasn’t ashamed at all to admit he criedeven harder when he had his girls in his arms, finally.

Juvia looked up and she was crying too. She puta hand on his cheek and gave him a kiss and Gray was about to hug her closerwhen she moved her hand from his cheek to his chest to push him away.

“Wait, Gray-sama.” She told him. “There’ssomeone else you have to meet first.”

He blinked twice before turning to the older womanlooking at them. “Of course, thank you for bringing my family back-”

Ur chuckled. “You are welcome, kid, but I don’tthink Juvia meant me.”

Gray frowned in confusion and then looked athis wife and saw her push the blanket away just enough he could see a baby snuggledagainst her chest. He was without breath for a moment, taking in the baby’s face,the bit of dark blue hair. The baby moved a little and fussed for just a second,just like Ava did when she was a baby herself, but even smaller, and the actionmade Gray’s heart skip a beat.

“I…” He tried.

“He is early.” Juvia told her husband, softly. “Heis a bit small, but healthy.”

“He?”

Juvia smiled at him. “We have a son, Gray-sama.”

“The little bugger decided to get into the worldin the middle of a snowstorm.” Ur snorted. “By the way, you should call yourdoctor and give them a place to rest.”

“Juvia is fine, Ur-sama.” Juvia told her whileGray’s eyes were still to leave their son.

“You just had a very complicated birth and even though after yesterday I trust thosewomen as much as I can, it’s better if you get a second opinion and you need rest,you were still bleeding when we left.”

The word made Gray snap out of it. “What? Complicatedbirth? Bleeding? Are you alright?”

“She’s not.” Ur clarified. “Get her a doctor, somebathtubs with hot water for her and the children and food. We are starving.”She said as if she owned the castle, but Gray did exactly what he was told,yelling at guards and maids to get things ready while holding on to his family.

He’d never let go of them again if he had any sayin the matter.

Now, he was free to attack Jose and he wouldlearn to never mess with a man’s family. At least not a Fullbuster’s family.

Juvia tells how Silver’s death was her fault, but he tells her it was his choice to save his family and she made the right decision: her priorities were Ava and the baby. Silver made his choice and Gray would forever be grateful for his sacrifice and they’d both wonder if that was what Silver’s vision of Mika was about (HA! Connections with earlier chapters). Gray needed him and Silver was there and helped free Juvia and Ava, even arranging Ur, an old friend, to help him.

Jose would be defeated in combat and one of Juvia’s long lost relatives would take care of the lands until Baby number 2 was old enough to take care of it, since Ava was the first born and would inherit the Duchy.

The end!

Well, here we go! I hope it wasn’t too disappointing!

#Gruvia #charmandheradventures #ask #drabble #the duchess #the birds and the bees #someone else's life #much stronger than forever #fanfictions endings

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