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gatitties · 1 year

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Tedi Tedi no Mi, Model: Grizzly The tedi tedi no mi is a zoan (or paramecia?) type devil fruit that allows the user to transform into a giant stuffed bear. When transformed the user would gain super strength, greater agility, greater endurance, Enhanced durability that can be able to withstand extreme damage and heightened sense of smell. The user might also gain some sort of immortality, when transformed as the user’s head was ripped off, they were still alive although it would’ve been a good choice to not transform back into a human. From what is known for the moment the user’s abilities are to sustain a "host" when transformed, furthermore increasing their abilities further but the one that is inside can also control them to some extent depending on the person or the "compatibility" of the pair. The more aligned with the user and their partner’s are with their goals, the more powerful the monster becomes. Although the user might suffer from overheating, it makes it even worse when they’re in the desert or inside the volcano but on the good side they're more tolerant to cold climates. Yes I made my own devil fruit just because I want to see some kid pirates x child! female (mute) reader where she's afraid of turning back into her normal self only because she's afraid of what they might do to her. Also they met her in a harsh cold winter environment and just when the kid pirates happen to stumble upon a cave and are currently resting there, that's when they met her (in teddy bear form that is). Of course they ended up in an unexpected surprise attack.

─Kid Pirates x child!fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: what you least expected that night was to find something similar to friends or family

─Warnings: none

I swear, some of you have so much imagination 👀 and I don't know if I understood the 'host' thing correctly, I interpreted it as when gregory can get into glam freddy's chest¿ (fnaf reference 👍🏼) but combinating powers¿

Your ragged breathing calmed down after you finished escaping from some thieves on the island, you got the gold they stole from you at first, but the cost was that while you were transformed into your teddy bear form, they ripped your head off. Many times your transformation had been broken or unstitched, but you always had a method of mending yourself after breaking, which you didn't have right now, you had never tried to return to your human form with something broken, and at the moment you weren't going to check what would happen if you did.

The only good thing, other than getting what's yours back, was that a blizzard seemed to break through as the night wore on, you loved the cold weather even though you couldn't just be out in a storm, it didn't take long stacking up some wood and making a small fire in a nearby cave, you put your head on the ground while you put everything away, when you were done you decided to get some sleep.

The surprise was that later in the night a group of four pirates broke into your cave, you decided to keep yourself as an inert object to catch them by surprise when they settled down.

"Fuck, this stupid storm has ruined the plan."

"Wait, there is fire, check the depth or signs of people."

Killer didn't let his captain keep complaining about his failed plan to attack other pirates who had chased to this island, he would rather rest now that they couldn't go any further to end the whole revenge thing later.

"All clean! We just found this huge creepy teddy bear."

Heat grabbed one of your soft arms slightly lifting your body, your head rolled from your lap where it rested, Wire held it looking at the buttons that you had for eyes at that moment.

"Yeah… it looks like a cursed plushie or something like that, don't you feel that it follows you with its gaze?"

"Nonsense! It's just a stupid oversized teddy bear."

Kid grabbed your head from Wire's hands, pulling it to the side of your body, causing Heat to let go of your arm, Killer shrugged and sent to take turns watching in case the supposed person who had made the bonfire returned. You had to restrain yourself from hitting him right now for being so gross with your stuffed body, even though you barely took any damage, you don't like to get dirty, anyway, you waited a while until three of them fell asleep.

Even though you made the mistake of thinking that attacking Heat would be easier than the others, you tried to hit him when he was distracted but a huge blaze of fire immediately knocked you back, by the time you knew it everyone was awake.

"I knew that stuffed animal was cursed!"

You waved your arms complaining that it wasn't a curse, although it's not like you could talk or they could understand your signs, so a little fight broke out that consisted of you dodging most of the four men's attack, without the element of surprise for you it was a losing battle, you couldn't fight with your greatest potential because you were literally decapitated and it made vision and mobility very difficult for you, going to plan two, you tried to flee.

Key word, tried.

"Do you really think you can try to attack us and run away like nothing happened?"

Kid managed to catch you before you could escape, you were so nervous and stressed by this situation that even your button eyes began to water, Killer was the one who grabbed your head, frowning when he saw a stuffed animal cry.

"Well, this is definitely some curse, it's like someone controlled it, or someone turned into a teddy bear?"

You waved your arms again, annoyed that they mistook your power for a stupid curse, you tried to make noises to speak, trying to get them to have some mercy, but your inability to speak simply made communication impossible.

"I don't care what the fuck it is, it has attacked us and at least deserves some torture."

Your body began to move agitatedly when he brought a dagger to your arm, the least you needed now was to undo more parts of your body, luckily, Wire grabbed his captain's wrist, denying slowly, apparently he had noticed your desperation and despite the fact that your hands in this state were something more like stumps, he seemed to understand the poor attempt at sign language you were trying to make.

"Wait captain, I would like to try something."

And God itself came down to kiss you on the ass because that man saved you from being more broken, it was hard enough finding materials to fix your head, you didn't want to tear yourself up anymore. You and Wire managed to communicate in a certain way, apparently and thanks to the fact that you were able to help by guiding them around the island, they decided to forgive having attacked them, the extra help was that they sewed your head to your body for having been involved in the attack of the others pirates.

"Thank you, sorry for the surprise attack… I was scared."

You signed once you returned to your human form, which let the men's jaws drop to the ground, you were just a child no more than ten years old probably, although Kid smiled, if you had that fighting potential that he could see, you were like a rough diamond to him and despite not being a fan of children, he let you on board with the only condition that you must train your power daily and be loyal to them.

You accepted because you had never traveled outside your home island, you wanted to have an adventure as an explorer in those books that you stole to read in secret and this was your chance. They all respected you despite being a child, you were strong enough to take down most of them.

You would still be scared if you break into your teddy bear form and have to go back to your human form, no one would make you shapeshift so they had to get a lot of thread and needles, also learn how to sew to calm you down. The good thing is that finding out that Killer was a good host in battle to team up with, especially in the surprise factor because an adorable teddy bear with blades? Definitely no one expects it, you also found out that it was no better to combine with Heat because you were clearly flammable in that state.

Although you didn't trust most of them that easily, at least, Wire was the closest for being able to communicate with you much more smoothly, Kid always scolds you two because you make a lot of noise arguing by aggressively signing over a simple card game, he's just mad because he can't understand what you say, secretly he's studying sign language to know what you say.

At first you did not seek any kind of friendship with them, but inevitably time did its thing and now you are like the younger sister of the crew.

#op #one piece #one piece x platonic reader #child reader #platonic reader #fem reader #mute reader #kid pirates x reader #one shot #request #one piece x reader #reader insert #kid pirates #kid #killer #wire #heat

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mydarllinglover · 1 month

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Stars Collided || Twelve

The two had returned in the early hours of the next day.

Lovisa hadn’t done anything but sit around and wait for them, she couldn’t even sleep, and refused, where Beru had offered her a bed.

The Princess’s chest ached, as she watched Anakin carry his mothers body, towards the farm, and without saying anything to his new family, he continued, into their home.

"Snips." Lovisa looked at her friend, who seemed deeply troubled, she was breathing heavy too, and her hands slightly shook. "What happened?"

"Lovey." Ahsoka grabbed hold of her wrist, and pulled her away from the three, so that they could talk in private.

"What happened back there?" Lovisa asked, once again, now that they were alone.

"Vis, it was horrible, no child should have to see their parent like that, like she was. She was still alive, when we got there, but, oh, god, it was bad, so, so bad, she had been suffering for so long, tied up to some rack. Then she… she died in his arms."

"Fuck." The princess cursed, completely taken back, as she clutched her chest.

"That's not all, after she died, something in him just sort of snapped, I couldn't break him out of it, I couldn't, I tried, Lovey, but I failed."

"What? What did he do?" Lovisa asked, growing even more worried.

"You should ask him, yourself, I can't repeat it." Ahsoka then walked away from her, shaking her head.

They had held a small funeral for Shmi Skywalker, Anakin had been the one to dig his mothers grave, and bury her beneath.

Lovisa and Ahsoka had stood by the side, as her family surrounded her.

"You were the love of my life." Cliegg spoke. "Kind, gentle, and generous, to anyone who needed it, no matter what situation was going on in your own life, you taught me to be a better person, and my biggest regret is not having enough time with you."

Anakin had requested some time alone with his mother, and they had all granted it to him.

But eventually, Lovisa had decided she’d given him enough space, and it was time to get answers.

She had found him in one of the farms workshops, he was stood at a work bench, messing around with some parts, fixing them, she realised.

"Life seems so much more simple, when you're fixing things." He said, his voice came out harsh, as he held back all his emotions, his throat was dry, as well, from the desert sand.

"Anakin..." Lovisa started. "What happened back there?"

Anakin kept his head down, as he continued to work on some sort of charm.

"Ani" She sighed, taking a step closer to him. "Whatever it was, Ahsoka seemed really troubled by it. Whatever happened, you can tell me. Please, please tell me."

Her heart beat loudly, as she waited for a reply, she slightly chewed on her lip.

"I told her not to come, but she didn't listen."

"I asked her to go with you." Lovisa replied.

"You shouldn't have done that." He glared at the girl.

"I just want to understand." She laid a hand on his shoulder.

He took a deep breath, before seeming to change his mind about calming down, turning on her, sharply.

"I killed them." He snapped at her. "I killed them all. Not just the men, but the women, and the children, too, I slaughtered them!" His voice rose, as did his anger, at the memory of last night. "They're like animals, and I slaughtered them like animals, every single one of them. I hate them!"

Lovisa gasped at what he had admitted, what he confessed to her.

"They tortured her, for a month, she suffered and I couldn't help her, they wouldn't let me go to her! They're jealous of me, the council and Obi-Wan, they're jealous of me, and they're holding me back, I could have prevented it, but they wouldn't allow it, made out that I was the weak one, but If I had done something, she'd still be alive. I'm stronger and more powerful, than them, and they can't stand it."

Lovisa had nothing to say to him, she couldn't offer anything, she stared at him in pure shock.

"She's dead, my mother is dead, and I didn't help her." His anger had changed into sadness, as tears pulled from his eyes. "She's gone, she's gone forever, and I'm never going to see her again." He wept.

In his anger, Anakin had stepped closer to the girl, and now, as he allowed his grief to consume him, he fell into her arms, dropping his head onto her shoulder, as he continued to cry for his mother.

Lovisa wrapped her arms around him, offering him comfort that he soar out from her.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, as she soothingly played with it.

"It's okay." She whispered to him. "It's okay, she's at peace now, she's not suffering anymore, it's okay."

Anakin hadn’t been able to pull himself together, for some time, and Lovisa had held him, her fingers rubbing his scalp, as she rubbed his back, saying soothing things, into his ear, until eventually he rose to his full height, and was able to carry on with life, as if any of it hadn’t happened.

The three had decided that they would need to return back to Naboo, and to the Lake district, seemingly as their chapter had been wrapped up here, and there was still a threat looming over the princess's head.

Lovisa sat between her two friends, no one would say anything, but the tension was thick.

"We need to stop, for the night." Ahsoka decided, suppressing a yawn.

"No, we'll keep going." Anakin refused, as he fought to keep his eyes open.

"We haven't slept in almost four days, Skywalker, you've drifted asleep enough times to know we should stop, and Lovisa can barely keep her head up."

"She's fine, she can sleep if she wants to." Anakin rolled his eyes, as he kept the arm that the girl was currently leaning on, still.

"We're stopping." Ahsoka pushed.

"It's more important that we get back."

"We're stopping?" Lovisa shot up, seeming alert, at the prospect of sleeping in an actual bed.

"Yes."

"No."

"Look, there's an Inn, over there, at least until sunrise, we all could use it, even the pups."

"Yes, we'll stay at the Inn, for the remaining of the night, it will do us all some good." Lovisa decided.

"Vis-" Anakin went to refuse, but when he looked at her, he knew he couldn't. "Fine, but as soon as the sun is up, we're gone."

Upon seeing the three teenagers, the innkeeper, a plump elderly woman, had given them two bedrooms, one for the boy, and one for the two girls, as she had told them that it was improper for the three of them to share, and so they had no choice but to accept the keys, as they hid their puppies under their cloaks.

"Did you talk to Skywalker?" Ahsoka had asked, as the two laid in bed, together, facing one another.

"I did." Lovisa admitted.

"And?"

"He told me what happened." She sighed.

"What, and that's all you have to say about it?"

"What else am I supposed to say, Snips?"

"Lovey, he killed an whole village of people, I watched him do it, there were innocent people there."

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it, when he dealt with those men in the forest."

"Because it was a completely different situation. They were trying to kidnap you, and they weren't children."

"They killed his mother, kept her alive enough to torture her, and then she died in his arms. And Cliegg said himself that they were barely human, but monsters."

"But the whole village? Not all of them could be."

"I trust Anakin, he did what he thought was right."

"He did it for revenge." Ahsoka cut her off.

"Were they really innocent if they were there, they would have just grown up to their surroundings, done it to others, others who are innocent, no one deserves to go through what Shmi did, it could happen to you, or me, or anyone. Anakin would never kill someone who didn't deserve it."

"He's a Jedi, Lovisa, it's against the code to kill an unarmed person."

"He will never do something like this, again, I promise you, Ahsoka, he's a good person. He's the chosen one."

"Look, I like him, Lovey, I do, but can we really trust him?"

"We can, he would never do anything to harm us, God picked him, for a reason, and he wouldn't make a mistake, like that. We have to keep this to ourselves, and pretend it never happened, he did the world an favour by getting rid of such evil creatures."

"You really believe that?"

"I do."

"Then I guess I can convince myself of that, too." Ahsoka looked down, as she chewed on her lip, deep in thought.

Lovisa sat up, lifting the duvet off of her.

"I should go check on him." She thought out loud.

Ahsoka didn't reply, instead, turning around on her other side, her back facing the princess.

Lovisa took this as a good response, to leave.

She stood in front of the door to his room, for the night, in just a pale blue silk night gown, thinking about what she was going to say to him.

She forced herself to knock on the wood, before thinking about it, and as she begun to regret her decision, and call herself all sorts of insults, it opened.

There he stood, he wasn't wearing an item of clothing on his top half, and was in his black trousers, like always.

Lovisa felt her cheeks grow red, as she pried her eyes off of his chest, and looked up at his face, his hair hung in front of his eyes, as he looked down at her, leaning his forearm on the door frame.

"Vis?" He asked.

She blinked. Twice.

"Anakin." She said, she couldn't think of anything else.

"What are you doing, here?" he studied her. “Awake.”

Lovisa swallowed, before taking a breath, then remembered why she did come here.

"I wanted to check up on you, make sure you're doing okay." She told him. "Are you doing okay?"

He looked past her, not having an answer.

"I am not sure." He replied, honestly.

"Would it help if I kept you company?" Lovisa found herself saying.

"You wanna come in?" He furrowed his brows.

"If you'll allow me."

He nodded, his eyes on the floor.

"I'd like that." Anakin looked at her, as his eyes swam with emotion.

She smiled at him, a kind, comforting smile.

#anakin fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #anakin x you #obi wan and anakin #star wars anakin #sw anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader smut #ahsoka tano #anakin star wars #anakin smut #anakin and padme #anakin skywalker x reader

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burstofastar · 6 months

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Tekken — Random thoughts

Okay, but Nina and Jin in Tekken 6? I simply love them. Tekken 6 gave (not just me but some other people too) the foundation for an amazing ship.

A respectful relationship that started with work, and the Scenario Campaign showed their closeness and confidence, without losing their professionalism and focus on Jin's goal.

Story-wise, Tekken 6 is… interesting, to say the least. I don't know, I still have mixed feelings about the direction they gave Jin's development and what he was like since Tekken 3.

I can't say that I like that in Tekken 6 he became a war criminal and did such aberrations, when Azazel's problem could have been addressed in another way; because actually, I don't like it at all.

But on the other hand, I don't totally hate the concept itself. I just find it a little hard to digest.

What I can save (or at least try to) is that, from a personal opinion, I don't think he did it because it's the destiny of bearers of Mishima blood to be corrupted. Because, in fact, I don't think Jin was corrupted by having Mishima blood or by the influence of the Devil Gene.

I think he did everything out of his conscience. A twisted, fucked up and terrible way of doing things, but by conscience at the end. Because if we go to the fact, he always struggled and fought against the influence of the curse, and tried to keep it at bay as much as he could (in despite of his T3 and T4 endings, in T5 vs. Hwoarang, in T7 in the desert)… well, in the end of Scenario Campaign we could see how Jin consciously used the power of the Devil Gene (without turning into Devil) to defeat Azazel.

It's a bummer that they "ruined" Jin like that, but it was an interesting chapter in Tekken history.

Anyway, before starting to wander more than necessary… I know that Tekken: Blood Vengeance and the Tekken Comic by Titan Comics aren't canon either, but Nina and Jin roles in each one are a good addition for this dreamy ship (especially in the comics).

And no, my point isn't that the base of the ship has to be that the woman has to do the whole work and being his support 24/7 (a thing that usually happens in the Japanese culture: the female character being just a bland sidekick with no depth and the protagonist's love interest; just as in mostly of shonens, for example), or because it's just the job she was hired for… But because both of them could relate to each other: both suffering child abuse from a close family member, both having family members they dislike, both having lost a family member they loved, both having suffered and survived Ogre's attack, and both having a mostly lonely path in life… because they know they're not the best company and their methods are very questionable.

Feelings aren't part of their lifestyle and not allowing themselves to open their hearts (because having feelings means their goals be compromised), is a fact. And it's a fact that a ship like this will never happen in canon, yet I always loved their genuine mutual trust and respect. It's far away from the Japanese culture's typical cliché of the badass lonely boy and the cute submissive girl who has a huge crush on him, is ghosted during most of the series and wants to "save" him but just meddles, resulting annoying most of times. It reminds me to someone… Wait!!

Alright, speaking more seriously now… Tekken 6 turned 14 years some days ago (especifically for PS3 and XBox, on October 30th), and this was a good opportunity to talk about an underestimated and unapreciated OTP.

I'm very intrigued about what's going to happen in Tekken 8, and the path of both of them when Bamco already revealed the roster's bios. Nina working for Kazuya doesn't make sense if we take into account her relationship with Jin during Tekken 6, the fact that she failed on purpose for Lars and Lee to protect Jin from Heihachi and... taking as bonus the non-canonical comics and BV.

Possibly developers will take the path of Street Fighter x Tekken's story? Nina working with Kazuya but undercover, for Jin's instructions? Because no one can deny how amazing was Jin trusting someone since the beginning, spending time with that someone and being able to share thoughts... even if it's just professionaly.

P.s.: I feel the luckiest guy alive, since I have the privilege of writing this wonderful ship on Twitter... I mean, X. My dearest friend @carade0jete and I roleplay as Nina and Jin, respectively, since almost five years. An amazing journey that still goes on and will last until that app is either ruined or closed by El*n M*sk. Love you, bb. ♥️✨

#tekken #tekken 6 #tekken 8 #nina williams #jin kazama #nina x jin #jin x nina #random thoughts

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theythedisaster · 2 years

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See me with your hands Pt.2

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku

Content: Medusa! Katsuki x Blind! Izuku

Pt.2: Words: 1, 598

Summary: After being cursed by his goddess, Katsuki turns his back against the world and seccludes himself with the nymphs and his garden. He lives lonely, until a dumb, young demigod comes to try and take his head away and only ends up bringing more trouble to his life.

Though Katsuki cannot really complain about it.

Pt.1

When the kid left that day -not even trying to glance backwards- the last thing that crossed through Katsuki’s mind was to see him again, but Katsuki is surprised to meet him once again not even a week later.

Katsuki is grinding away at some dried leaves he harvested earlier that week, humming the old memory of a song low under his breath. It is no longer resembling of its original, Katsuki knows that much, but it’s been so long since he last heard it. It has just escaped him almost completely. But he still enjoys himself, being alone for so long has a way to make you appreciate even the most mundane of tasks, the most mind numbing of jobs. Everything becomes a great distraction and for someone who has no limit to his life, like Katsuki, living in misery is not a pleasing way of spending his time.

So, he sings to his heart's content, watching how the leaves turn into dust under the polished rock when there’s a thud somewhere behind him and an immediate cry of pain.

“Shit-”

It’s obvious, by the way it is shouted in the form of a whisper, that the person tried their best to keep quiet and failed miserably. Already incredibly sloppy work.

Katsuki lets the rock fall from his hand, turning around and assuming a defensive pose. “Who 's there!” He calls into the garden, hearing the immediate ruffle of leaves. “Come the fuck out!” The only thing to defend himself other than his eyes is the small blade he grips between his fingers. He never would have thought he would have to fight for his life twice in a week. This is a new record.

He waits, breath held tight in his chest until he sees a small figure coming out from behind the statue of one of the sons of Zeus -like with many others in his garden, Katsuki has no name which to attach to his face-. He sighs the held breath and glares at Kota, even when he knows the kid cannot see it, for he wears the cloth from last time around his eyes.

“I want you to know I’m glaring angrily at you right now,” hands on his hips.

The little demon has the audacity to giggle behind his hand, but it quickly turns into a sheepish, shy smile when he hears Katsuki click his tongue.

“What are you doing here again? I thought it was clear our last encounter would be exactly that: the last.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he tries to ignore the bubbly feeling of happiness that tickles at the center of his chest. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had wished the boy would come back.

The mere taste of a few minutes of harmless contact with another of his own had been detrimental to his mood. It was like tasting water after weeks of wandering a hot desert, addicting. But he had felt the emotional withdrawal once the kid was gone and suddenly he was back in his teenage years, missing the life he once had.

He feels sad suddenly, his shoulders losing some of their edge.

"I left my sword last time. I'll be in trouble if I don't bring it back." Kota says, adjusting the blindfold once again. He stops, his hands coming together, pressed to his body and Katsuki sees something else coming. "The bread from last time was also really good…"

Katsuki scoffs, “Unbelievable, first you come to kill me and fail and now expect me to feed you, again?” It’s all talk really, because he’s already grabbing the child’s hand gently and guiding him through the rest of the garden. The squeak of surprise from Kouta is ignored in favor of giving directions to make sure he doesn’t stumble with any roots or pots.

Behind him, the kid seems to have lost all of the fear he had the first time they meet. He chatters animatedly and confidently, as if Katsuki would be able to actually relate to the things he talks about.

His hand opens the door to his tiny house and with delicate fingers he maneuvers Kota in front of him and towards the kitchen. Katsuki sits him at the table and grabs his wrists to guide his hands towards a ceramic plate in front of him.

“Keep your hands on the plate,” He instructs the momentarily blind boy as he turns to look for the fresh loaf of bread. Katsuki slices a few pieces and places them on the plate. “You’re lucky, brat. I just finished baking a new loaf this morning.”

Katsuki watches in amusement as Kota feels around the edges of the plate until his fingers come in contact with the slice of bread. He beams and quickly brings the piece to his lips to munch happily, humming.

“This is the best bread I’ve ever tasted!” The brat says between bites and Katsuki tries his hardest to squash the feeling the praise brings to his heart. It still buzzes inside him.

He grunts noncommittally, pouring already hot water into a pot to make some ginger tea. It is quiet, besides the munching sounds coming from the little demon, so Katsuki concentrates into the slightly bubbling water. When it is done, he starts pouring the tea into two ceramic cups. Of course, that’s when Kota decides to drop a firebomb on him.

“Would you show me how to make it?” It is quiet and rushed, but Katsuki hears it all the same.

The admission shocks him so much he moves too suddenly and ends up spilling hot tea all over his hand. “Fuck!” He shakes it desperately, letting the teapot fall over the counter.

“W-what happened? Are you okay?” Kota stands nervously, but refrains from moving too much, for him being blindfolded would surely be of more harm than help.

Katsuki sticks his hand on the charmed bucket of forever cool water close by, and turns to Kota with a bated breath. “What did you say?”

The kid shifts on his feet, looking much more less confident than a few minutes ago. “Um, are you okay?”

“No, before that.”

Shit, his hand hurts.

“Oh…” The kid visibly defleats, somehow turning tinier in himself. “I asked if you could show me how to make bread like you.”

Katsuki stays quiet, staring at the unknowing boy. The admission in itself is not surprising, what sends a wave of emotion through Katsuki is what it entails.

“You know you can’t learn how to make a bread like mine in just a few hours, right?” He’s careful when he asks. There’s something hidden in the kid’s question, one much more deep and heavy, but Katsuki doesn’t dare let his heart get its hope up.

“Yeah, I know.” The kid is back to facing the ground and clasping his hands together like the first time they met.

“Are you asking me if you could come again?” He feels his hands tremble slightly, a confusing mix of feelings tangling inside his mind, lacing around each other like hungry snakes.

Kota sucks his lower lip into his mouth and bites on it and, as if knowing Katsuki is staring him down, he nods silently.

A breath leaves his lungs, one he didn’t even realize he was holding. He stays silent, his mind flying around.

The kid wants to come back? And learn from him?

Why?

“Why?” It escapes him before he can stop it and it comes out with way too much emotion. He sounds weak and immediately cringes at himself. He can’t really feel the stinging from his burned hand that much anymore.

Kota perks up at this. There is a tiny smile on his lips, “I think you’re really cool.”

Katsuki cannot believe it. He feels like he’s in a dream. There’s no way this kid just barged into his garden, tried to kill him once, convinced him to feed him twice and now thinks he’s cool. After going so many years without contact with other humans, he’s forgotten how complicated kids usually are.

“And I want more bread,.” he offers over the plate in the general direction of Katsuki.

“Ugh, are you serious?”

Kota laughs, already back to his confident kid mannerisms.

Katsuki slices a few more pieces of bread and sits him back at the table. This time, he sits with him, the two forgotten tea cups now filled with ginger tea.

It is quiet between them, but not awkwardly so. It is more contemplating than anything. But when they finish eating and there is no more tea to drink, he decides to give his response.

“I guess I wouldn’t be opposed to teaching you.” It is quiet and rather hopeful, because he can no longer deny that the kid’s company sounds ten times better than being alone with just his plants and the occasional visit from Ochako and Mina.

“Really?” Kota sounds way too excited, as if him teaching the brat something would be the best thing in the world.

“Yeah, but you have to be perfect, I don’t accept half-assed shit. Got it?”

The smile the little demon gives him makes his heart flutter and happiness sit at the bottom of his belly.

“Sir, yes Sir!” Kota moves too wide and too fast, hitting Katsuki’s burned hand along the way. It starts pounding immediately.

“Ugh, fuck! Kota!”

“I’m sorry! I don’t know where anything is! I can’t see!”

He can’t believe this is really happening. It feels like a dream.

Katsuki is not alone anymore.

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ellie-rosewood · 2 years

Text

Paul Verlaine random headcanons (because not many write about him)💛

• Long multiple volumed novels bore him, so he reads short stories and novels.

• Doesn't like movies because he knows all too well most emotional situations are a lie.

• Chuuya brings him wine and they can talk for hours.

• Don't let his appearance decieve you. Play some good rock 'n roll and he'll dance better than Michael Jackson ever could.

• He might listen to Indila once in a while.

• He never learnt to cook because he always imagined the vegetables as his enemies to be killed.

• He HATES going to the doctor when he gets sick.

• When ever his pupils fail, he complains harshly in French to calm down but advices them gently after.

• Still doesn't mean he'll go easy on them. He is a very strict teacher.

• He once allowed Gin and Kyouka to brush and braid his hair.

• He doesn't like it when anyone except Chuuya comes to see him unannounced.

• He never said to any of his pupils about his past, afraid they'll see him the same way some comrades of his during the war did.

• During the war hardly anyone called him by his name because he wasn't a real human.

• He takes cold showers almost daily, to clear his head.

• Rimbaud set him on a blind date once. It went smoothly... sort of.

• Paul may look and seem tough but all you need is to tell him he is handsome and he blushes.

• "Not something I hear everyday..." or "I... I didn't... thank you."

• He is mostly polite unlike Chuuya who curses all the time.

• During the fog (Dead Apple), he kept walking around in the shelter nervously. He was worried for Chuuya.

• Will he be fine? Is he safe?

• When he decided to grow his hair long, Rimbaud complained, "It'll be easy to grab."

• But Paul was too stubborn.

• Which made Arthur grow his hair that long too.

• Paul practiced different styles of braids on Arthur's hair before doing it on his.

• Whenever Arthur shivered from being too cold, he'd drape anything that'll warm him on his shoulders. (In his first few days of freedom, he once ripped the curtains.)

• There are times when he stares in the mirror, places a hand over his heart and smile.

• "Thank you for the second chance... I'm only sorry that you are not here."

• He hopes he can find a reason someday to step outside, and so does Chuuya.

• Chuuya loves to see how Paul will feel if he saw how strong he is now.

• Spoiler: Paul feels happy for him.

• He likes sweet deserts with tea.

• Some nights he has messed up nightmares of Guivre, Arthur's death and Faunus tormenting him.

• When he wakes up he can't sleep again, afraid to see those nightmares again.

• Cat or dog person? He likes both!

• There are times when he speaks French with Mori and the boss begs him to speak Japanese.

• Elise likes him a lot but Paul feels awekward around her. He has no idea how to treat a child properly.

Might make a part two... if I recieve an as ask for it!

#bsd chuuya nakahara #bsd verlaine #bsd paul verlaine #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dog #bsd headcanons #headcanons #paul verlaine #arthur rimbaud #bsd arthur rimbaud

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beskarhearts · 3 years

Text

Scars (Din Djarin x reader)

Connection series pt. 4

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, mention of family members passing away, scars, torture from empire, some sexual tension

Word count: A little over 4.8K

Summary: The Mandalorian sees a part of you that you’ve been hiding and comforts you.

Notes: Did I listen to drivers license by olivia rodrigo on repeat while writing this and tear up at least two times? Yes. Is this possibly the saddest thing I’ve written yet? Yes.

Last Part ____ Next Part

__________________________________________________________

“If you don’t take off your jacket and sweater, I will.”

And that is when you realized that everything the Mandalorian says sounds 20x more sexual than it ever should.

________________________________

You’ve said it once. And you will say it a hundred more times.

The Razor Crest was a hunk of junk. A total piece of trash. It may as well had been space garbage, just floating through the atmosphere. You swore it was a metal death trap that could just happen to fly through light speed. You told Din to get a new ship and he had very sassily remarked about how she was perfectly fine (yes, he referred to his stupid ship as a ‘she’ and you couldn’t stop laughing about it for five minutes straight).

Regardless of Din’s arguing, you knew deep down the ship was junk. And that is why you had to stop (again). You had rushed to fix the wing on the planet where you had been attacked and it’s been a couple days since then. It held up okay but you knew you were going to have to stop on a planet for probably a whole day, so you could fix the wing, as well as the heater which had broken down in the last day.

So you and Din had planned to stop on a remote planet. One without a lot of humans or any big civilizations near by, that way you wouldn’t have another surprise visitor like last time. One where you could fix the ship and where Din could take a day to relax, to sit back and not worry about the safety of you and the kid. To be honest, it sounded like a great day to you. You would keep busy with the ship, but Din would watch over the kid and talk to you. It would be like how life used to be almost. A taste of normalcy in an otherwise hectic world.

And then Din landed you in the middle of the damn desert.

“Din Djarin, when I said land on a planet, you couldn’t have chosen one with water or plants or nice, cool temperatures?” Din had just stepped back into the ship after checking the surroundings of where you had landed. His armored head faced you and the kid you had held in your arms. The child gurgled endlessly, his tiny fingers clutching onto the zipper of your jacket as you rocked him back and forth.

“I’ve been to this planet before. There aren’t a lot of people. Worse there is are some Jawas. And Mudhorns, but they stick to the caves.”

“Mudhorns? Where are we?”

“Arvala-7. This is one of the first places the kid and I went together.” The Mandalorian walked towards the two of you, stopping right in front of you. One of his gloved hands reached out to pat at the kids head. The child’s attention drifted from your zipper to his father, a hand reaching out. Din wiggled one of his fingers at the kid, something you don’t even think he realized he did, and watched as the three green digits wrapped around his finger. You smiled at the sight before you, looking at Mando’s helmet which was tilted down, aimed towards the child. The moment felt so domestic, like you three were just a little family. You and Din parenting the kid, living life traveling through the galaxy, not because you had to run but because you wanted to. You could’ve easily let yourself drift into the daydream but shook it away. That was a reality a person like you could never have. A reality that Din deserved and maybe could have one day, but with someone else. Someone who was worthy of a man like him.

“Well, I am so glad you and the kid are going to take a trip down memory lane here but I am going to die from the heat.” You heard the Mandalorian chuckle as his hands reached out to grab the child. You handed him over to his dad’s arms, which the kid seemed to very pleased about. You could tell that the kid liked his father’s embrace, even though most of his body was covered in beskar. He liked to be held by Din and lately you had been wondering what that would feel like. For his strong arms to wrap around you.

Lately you had been thinking a lot of things about the Mandalorian that you shouldn’t have.

“Didn’t you grow up on Jakku? That place is even hotter than here.” The words were said with a hint of sarcasm, as his helmet turned as if to said ‘duh’.

“Yes but that was different.”

“How? Just take off some layers and you’ll be fine.”

He said it very matter-of-factly and you supposed that was a reasonable thing for most people to do. Most of the time when you were on Jakku, outside working, you would only wear a pair of cargo shorts and a tank top with a work vest. Light layers that kept you cool and allowed your skin to be kissed by the sun as you worked away on a ship. You remembered spending hours upon hours outsides, never being bothered once by the heat and desert environment.

But things were different. You had lived on Yungbrii for so long now that you were used to the cold. And you always wore your sweater, with a jacket over it. Taking those off weren’t an option anymore. Wearing just the tank top underneath them wasn’t an luxury you could afford anymore.

“I have a shirt you can borrow if you need to.” Din broke your train of thought with the offer.

An offer that nearly made you lose it. You had never once thought of wearing a piece of Din’s clothing. Hadn’t ever crossed your mind or been mentioned. And you knew he was only offering it because the temperature outside, no other reason. Not because he wanted to see you in his clothing or anything like that. Just to be kind. But, the thought of you wearing a shirt of Dins, something his skin had touched and probably smelled like him and would probably swallow you... made you feel some things. And a part of you really, really wanted to take him up on the offer. But that would show too much skin.

“No!” You had inadvertently yelled it out, watching as Mando’s helmet whipped up from the kid to you. “I mean... uh, yeah. No thanks. I’m good.”

“Uh, okay. Yeah.”

An awkward silence filled the room until the kid let out a loud giggle. You swear the little womp rat could tell when you had just done some dumb shit and always thought it was the funniest thing in the whole damn galaxy. You scrunched up your nose as the kids big black eyes looked up at you and you turned to look away from him and Din.

You needed to ease the tension. “Don’t you get hot in the giant tin can of yours?”

You couldn’t tell if Din found the tin can jokes funny or insulting, but every-time you made them he let out a little huff, one you couldn’t decipher as a laugh or a sigh. It was one of those times you wished you could see him face. You had gotten pretty used to reading him, despite the helmet and his quiet demeanor. But times like these you wish you could see an expression, an eyebrow raise, a smile, anything. “Sometimes.”

“I’d imagine you are sweating buckets under there.” You walked towards the bag you had stuffed in a corner of Din’s ship, reaching into it to grab your father’s box of tools. The cool touch of the metal against your fingers made a pain spread throughout your whole body. The tools were the only thing you had left of him. The only reminder that he had existed and that he had been there for you every day. The only reminder of the hours he spent teaching you about ships and how to fix them, ever since you were only a tiny little girl. Your mother thought you would be preoccupied with more feminine things. But even at a young age, you loved the feel of metal against your fingers, the sweat that would collect on your brow from the sun, the ache of your muscles from a hard days work. It gave you purpose, meaning. It was a way to help and to contribute. And all you had ever wanted to do was help your family, even in the end.

But you had failed to do that.

You heard the clanking of Din’s boots behind you and he stopped behind you, bending down at the knees. If he didn’t have his helmet on, you probably could have felt his breath on the back of your neck, but now you only heard the sound of his breathing through the modulator. It was faint but it was there. “You okay?”

You could of broke down sobbing at the moment. At your father’s tools in your hand and Din’s worry about you. But, instead you shook your head and stood up, looking down at him still bent down. “I’m getting there.”

And it was true. For the first time in years, you felt like maybe one day you would be okay. That the pain wouldn’t be so gut-wrenching every day.

And that was only because of Din.

“I should probably get started on fixing the ship.” You gave the Mandalorian, your Mandalorian, a small smile and walked past him, outside of the ship.

_____________________________________

It was so hot.

You weren’t used to the heat anymore. You weren’t used to the way your sweat would seep out of every pore, drenching your clothes. You weren’t used to the fatigue that came along with a hard day’s work in the sun. And the sweater and jacket probably weren’t helping. But no way in hell were you going to take them off. No one was even around but Din kept walking back outside to check on you, probably cause your stupid ass was dying of heat exhaustion.

Your sweater clung to your skin, the jacket slightly more durable but still trapping your body heat. You bent over a panel on the Razor Crest’s side, a tool tightly grasped in your hand as you worked away. The other hand reached up to wipe away at your forehead continuously.

“You are going to kill yourself out here.”

Something you hated about the Mandalorian was that he could be so quiet sometimes and sneak up on you. The man was always covered in metal and you would think you would hear him from a mile away, but he could come up behind you without letting out a peep. Which made sense considering his job but it was so unnerving.

You jumped, turning to look at Din, who stood with his hands on his hips and his helmet tilted. “You look like shit.” The words were said gruffly, with an air of annoyance.

“Well, you sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.” You were almost too tired and hot to let the joke out, but you didn’t want Din to know how horrible you felt. Which was probably useless because you couldn’t even see yourself and knew Din was in fact correct: you did look like shit. Your skin was flushed red, your hair pulled into a ponytail but tiny wisps of hair clung to your head, wet from perspiration.

“You need to take off some layers. You are overheating.”

“How do you know, sir?”

“My helmet can tell your internal body temperature.”

Of course it can. “Well that feels invasive.”

Din let out a loud sigh at that, one that was loud and clear through the modulator. You were driving him crazy but he didn’t understand. “You need to take them off.”

“Nope.” You let your lips pop out the word, going to turn away when you felt Din’s hand reach out and grab your arm. He turned you back to face him, stepping even closer.

“If you don’t take off your jacket and sweater, I will.”

And that is when you realized that everything the Mandalorian says sounds 20x more sexual than it ever should.

You thanked the Maker that your face was already a bright red from the sun and tried your best to not start choking on your own saliva from the words. On the list of things you thought Din Djarin would say to you, you never would have put ‘threatening to take your clothes off’.

You blamed the modulator. Something about the modulator made his deep, raspy words sound sexier than they had any right to (not that you frequently thought that Din’s voice sounded sexy, because that would be weird and inappropriate). And Din was saying this to try to convince you to stop killing yourself in this unbearable heat, but your stomach still clenched at the threat.

Damn you, Din Djarin. You had to come up with a good come back. Something so he knew his words hadn’t effected you.

“Well, Din, if you wanted to see me undressed this badly, you should of asked sooner.”

You expected Din to step back, mumbling some lame apology and leaving you be but your Mandalorian was much more determined than you realized. “Sweet girl, no snarky response is going to make me leave this be. You are gonna die out here.”

Oh boy. Of course he said sweet girl. He had said it once last night while you had a conversation (the same conversation where you had told him a little about your family) and you had lamely teased him about flirting. Maybe because you were secretly hoping he was flirting. And you were afraid you had scared him away from ever calling you that again, because you honestly loved the way it sounded. Sweet girl. It was such a sweet thing, made so much sense that Din would call you that. It made you feel special and made your hands tremble.

Oh, now you had to come up with something really good. Because not only was Din trying to get your to take your sweater off, but now you swear the man was teasing you. There was no way he had no clue what he was doing. And you were the only one allowed to tease people here. So you had to come back with something really snarky, really teasing, that way he’d leave you alone and let you breathe.

But he didn’t give you time to do that because his gloved fingers started reaching for the shoulders of your jacket, so he could take it off of you. And while you were sure in any other situation, if you were any other person with any other life, you maybe just might of let Din continue, you had to stop it.

“I’ll take it off!” you yelled out.

Din ripped his hands away from you, looking down at them for a split second before dropping them down to his sides. He stepped back slowly, like he was unsure what to say or what to do with the tension in the environment.

“I’ll take them off. But you can’t be out here. You need to stay in the ship.” You said the words slowly and watched as the Mandalorian nodded his head in response, before turning away without another word.

You were confused. You didn’t know what had just happened. You didn’t know if the Mandalorian was angry with you or if he was reeling from what had just happened like you were. But you didn’t give yourself much more time to think before you took the jacket off, letting it drop to the ground. Your fingers reached for the hem of your sweater and with a shakey breath and one more look around your surroundings, you lifted the fabric over your head. Leaving you only in a jankily cut tank top, with the scars littered on your back and arms exposed. The very scars you had avoided looking at were out for the world to see for the first time since you got them.

________________________________________

The child was most definitely a womp rat.

It was like he knew when it was not the time to mess around, and decided to mess around. You had been bent down, working away at a panel mindlessly, not paying much attention to your surroundings. You were so close to being done and were consumed in the final bits of work. And the child had made his way out of the ship, waddling up behind you, reaching for you without you being aware of it. You were lost in the gruel of work, in the warm feeling of the sun on your skin. You didn’t know what was happening until it was too late. Until you head the footsteps.

You flipped around, looking over to the child and then hearing the Mandalorians boots pound on the ramp leading outside. The child let out a squeak at the sight of his dad and it was too late. Din’s head whipped to look over right as your turned around, desperately reaching for your jacket or sweater to cover your skin. You knew it wasn’t on purpose. You knew the kid had probably escaped and Din was just worried about him leaving the ship. You knew he was just worried about the kids whereabouts. It wasn’t malicious or an excuse to look. It was just happenstance but it was still too late.

“I’m sorry. The kid was napping and I turned around and then he disappeared and-” You heard the abrupt pause in his babbling and knew he saw. Knew he saw the dozens of marks on your back and arms that faced him. Saw the scars that were an almost white color but still very apparent. Saw the scars you so desperately tried to cover.

You slowly turned around, feeling your chest cave as this part of you was exposed. Tears pricked at your eyes as you saw Din look at you. The child cooed with curiosity, not quite understanding the gravity of the moment. “Who did this to you?”

You heard the tone of his voice loud and clear. He was angry and sounded like a man ready to kill. You knew he wouldn’t like seeing it but even you didn’t understand how much this hurt Din to see. To see his sweet one so hurt and scarred. To see that someone did something so awful to you, something you would always keep as a reminder. “Din-”

“Tell me who.” He wasn’t messing around. He didn’t want to hear you try to calm him or change the conversation. He wanted to know who was responsible for your pain.

You let out a sigh. “Let’s go inside.”

You picked up the kid, cursing him mentally for being so curious, and your other hand reached for your box of tools until you saw the Mandalorian reach for them. He followed you as you walked up the ramp, into the Razor Crest. You set the child into his little hammock, handing him one of his small toys to keep him preoccupied as the Mandalorian closed the hatch, locking out the outside world. The world that had caused you and him so much pain. You were back in your ship, your bubble where there was joy and love.

“Who did that to you?” He repeated, more evenly but you still heard the rage dripping off his words. His fists were clenched tightly and his helmet was aimed right towards you. You couldn’t see his eyes but you felt like they were burning into your skin.

“This Imperial leader...” You took a deep breath in and out before continuing. “When they found my family, my grandmother wasn’t anywhere around. And they wanted her most. So, they tortured me, hoping I would give up her location. But, I didn’t know and now... I’ve got this ugly, horrible reminder.”

The air was heavy around you as a single tear slipped out. Din didn’t say anything or move. Even the child sat quietly in his hammock, big eyes staring at the two of you. You went to finally put your sweater on when Din finally interrupted with a small “Wait.”

You looked up at the man in front of you. Din brought his hands together, slowing taking off one of his gloves finger by finger until he switched to take the other off. “Do you trust me?”

You didn’t have to think about it. You just responded with a nod of the head and watched as Din dropped the gloves and slowly stepped towards you, like you were an injured animal he didn’t want to scare away. You still held the sleeve of your sweater limply in one hand, the rest of the fabric resting on the floor of the ship. Part of you still wanted to crawl into it, hide yourself, and pretend Din hadn’t seen a thing. But it was too late for that and in all honesty, you trusted Din Djarin so much. It had only been a matter of maybe a few months since you had joined him and the kid. But it felt so much longer. It had been the first time in so long that you felt safe and cared about, and you didn’t know how Din felt but you hope he shared the same feelings.

You almost gasped when Din’s hand reached out to grab your arm. It was surprisingly gentle, his fingers felt like they were just barely holding on to you. His fingertips were calloused but not rough. They gently traced the bare skin of your arm, one hand holding your wrist and the other beginning to dance along your skin. Din raised his helmet to look at you quickly and you nodded, letting him know what he was doing was okay. Not just okay, but welcomed. Din’s helmet turned back down to your arm as he watched his fingers trace the warm, sun kissed flesh.

Din’s fingers ran up the length of your arm, going from the forearm to your bicep. He moved your wrist slowly in the opposite direction, wanting you to turn around. You slowly turned, no longer facing the Mandalorian. His hands dropped from your arms and part of you wanted to whine at the lost of contact. But then Din moved your hair gently in front of your shoulders and you knew he now had a complete view of your back, besides the flimsy fabric of your tank top. His fingers returned to your skin, this time each one to each of your shoulders. You closed your eyes, trying to hold back tears, as you felt one of Din’s fingers trace one of your scars. It sent a spark through your body. His touch was so gentle and so kind and it was like he was purifying the marks, no longer making them something so ugly and twisted. The skin to skin contact was minimal, but so electrifying and warm. It made your whole chest feel warm and you realized you had never had someone do something for this like you. You never had someone take your broken pieces and try to make you whole. Nobody had ever treated you so gently because you didn’t let this part of you show.

But with Din it was so easy to. And so safe.

“Sweet girl...” He barely whispered the words, but you heard them as he continued to work all over your back.

A tear slipped down your cheek at the name, the name he made for you. A name you didn’t have to ask for and didn’t expect. But one he gave you, to make you feel cared for because that you deserved. And Din knew that.

“Din...” You didn’t really have anything to say but you just wanted to feel his name slip from your lips. It was so comforting.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?”

___________________________________

Din sat in the cockpit with the child in the seat beside him, bundled up and asleep, as she took a shower. His hands were still shaking and his gloves were back on but his fingers felt like they were burning. He had stood there, probably for a good hour, just touching her skin. He didn’t even know why he had done it. Why that had seemed like a good idea for him to do. For all he knew, the last thing in the world she wanted was for him to touch him. But, as soon as he grabbed onto her skin with his bare hands, he felt himself melt into and felt like maybe she had too.

The moment had been so vulnerable. She stood there, scars and all, and let herself be consoled by him. And he was vulnerable too. He exposed himself a little bit to her, letting himself delve into every part of her. She was so soft but so strong. He never doubted once her ability to protect herself and the kid. He didn’t think she was fragile. He just saw she was a human being, one who needed to be shown how perfect they were. How beautiful they were.

Because, Maker, she was so beautiful to him. Every part of her was perfect to him. And all he wanted was to show her that.

His train of thought was broken as he turned his head, listening as she made her way up the ladder to the cockpit. She stepped in and Din swore he could have stayed in this moment forever.

"I, uh, hope you don’t mind. I borrowed one of your shirts.”

Din didn’t mind at all. The sight of her in one of his shirts nearly gave him a heart attack but he still didn’t mind. The shirt was slightly too big on her, swallowing most of her midsection but fell by her thighs. Her hair was still damp from her shower and he was used to it being up in a pony tail. But now it fell down her shoulders and back.

He realized he was staring at her and cleared his throat quickly. “No. Not at all.” He gave her a small smile without even thinking about the helmet blocking his face and felt silly. She couldn’t see his face but he could look at her whenever he wanted, bask in her beauty and warmth.

“So, where are we going now?”

When she had been showering, Din had left Arvala-7 and put the Crest into hyperdrive. He had something that he wanted to do. Something he felt he needed to do. “Navarro.”

Her eyebrows scrunched up a little, in a way that Din adored. “Why Navarro?”

“I have something I have to do there. It will just be a quick stop.” He hoped his answer left little room for questions or further conversation and was content when she nodded and walked closer to him.

“Okay.” She paused, looking over at the sleeping child and smiled at the sight. Din loved seeing her with the kid. She was tough but with the kid, she was so maternal. He could see how much they loved each other. It made him so happy that the kid had someone else beside him, someone who he could look at as a mother. “I should probably get him to bed.”

“Yeah. You need some sleep too. You worked hard today.”

“It was honestly kind of nice, working on the ship. Felt like the old days a little.” Her gaze drifted back to him, a warm smile still on her face. “Din, I just wanted to say-” She paused, seeming to fumble for words but he stopped her.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Din saw her turn, arms reaching out for the child when she suddenly dropped them and turned around. She stood in front of Din, looking down at his helmet which was tilted up at her. She paused before slowly lowering her head down, laying her forehead against his helmet with eyes closed. Din could tell she was shaking a little but he just reached forward and grabbed her wrist. His thumb drew small circles.

Din was pretty certain that she didn’t know what a keldabe kiss was or the importance of it. As far as he was aware, she had a very limited knowledge of Mandalorians and was always willing to learn. But her not being aware of how monumental this moment was for Din was almost even better. The fact that she was making him feel so cherished without realizing showed how good of a person she truly was.

She eventually pulled away with a shy smile and Din dropped her wrist lightly. She turned around, grabbing the bundle the child was in, and turned towards him one last time. “Goodnight, Din.”

“Goodnight, sweet one.”

Din watched as she walked away with the kid in her arms, going down to the hull of the Crest. And that was when he realized something.

This must be what falling in love feels like.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian imagine #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #grogu #baby yoda #writing

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oohnoniall · 3 years

Text

The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter Four (Kaz)

Warnings: cursing, fantasy violence, family drama

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

He hated to lose. Hated to be in anyone's pocket. When a plan failed it made him feel as though he was once more that scared child who had held onto his brother's hand. He felt weak. Weaker than anyone in the Barrel should feel. If anyone had found out about this detour in his plans, he would have already been marked. Kaz Brekker would have been a name that was not remembered despite the fact that he was quickly becoming the man to look out for.

Needless to say, he was in a foul mood.

His hands were steady as he picked up the drink that had been Jesper's. He didn't bother to look at the other man; a boy really; as he drank it. The alcohol burned his throat, he could feel its trail burning all the way to his stomach. He needed that burn. Needed to feel something other than the rage in his heart. He knew that he would never get another chance to break into the Grand Palace and steal the Sun Summoner.

Not that she would even be there.

He had not once thought that the girl would be stupid enough to run. He had never thought she'd leave the safety of the Grand Palace and General Kirigin. Anyone would have known that Fjerda and the Shu would be after her. How she thought she'd be safer on the run was beyond him.

After the showing last night she was in more danger than ever. Kaz knew it would be harder to find her, harder to capture her. There was no telling where she would go or where she would be hiding. Not to mention they'd already ruined the one place they could go and get information. The Little Palace would have been the most opportune place to be for information. All of it would have gone to Kirigin.

They'd blown that cover though. The other guards had caught sight of them, the princess had spoken to him. A stableboy was very aware of Jesper and what he looked like. None of them would be able to go back.

"What's our plan?" Inej stood at his shoulder, his constant wraith. He wondered briefly what life would be like if she wasn't at his side. He was certain that most of his plans would have gone up in smoke by that point.

Just like the one they were running from.

"I don't know," he said, his jaw clenching as he stared down at the empty glass in his gloved hand. He hated not knowing, hated to be on the outside. He never knew what to say or do. Never knew how to feel about the whole thing. It was like he was a child all over again, trapped with those bodies and staring into his brother's glazed-over eyes. Just the thought was enough to make him shudder.

He suppressed the shudder. He didn't need any of the others to know that he was reflecting on things. Didn't need them knowing that he was afraid for once. Kaz Brekker was a man who was driven by fear. Fear of failure, fear of being unknown, fear of never getting his revenge on Pekka Rollins. Fear and revenge ran deep within him. He had a strong sense of what he needed, what he wanted.

Kaz could care less about the money, about the power. All that mattered was making Pekka Rollins pay. He couldn't do that when he was failing at jobs hundreds of miles away from the Barrel.

Inej seemed to understand that he was not in the mood to be messed with. She just stared at him. Her eyes were depthless and filled with everything she wanted to say. He couldn't look at her. Couldn't stand to look and see what she thought of him. He knew it would be the same thing he thought of himself. Worthless, pathetic. Couldn't steal a saint if he tried.

Jesper, on the other hand, chose not to read the warning signs. "We could always stay here," he sounded almost cheerful at the prospect. "This place is nice. We could start a farm, live a quiet life."

Inej and Kaz both looked at him.

"Or perhaps not," he gripped the drink the bartender slid over to him as if guarding it against his two companions. "You'll think of something boss, you always do." Even in the worst of situations, Jesper was a beacon of light in a cold, dark world. Maybe that was the real reason Kaz kept him around. The man reminded him that things were not always as dire as they seemed. As long as they could breathe, they could stay alive. Kaz could think of a plan even when their backs were against the wall.

His brow furrowed slightly, fingers tapping gently against the glass in his hand. Their backs were against the wall. The would-be-saint had run off. But there had been talk of another running with her. The gossips in the bar had mentioned a tracker. One that Kirigin had been using for a secret mission. That was something they could use.

This tracker had to be someone important to her. It had to be someone that they could use. Someone who could lead them just where they needed to be. But how did one track a tracker? How did they find the two?

The docks. They would be escaping Ravka as soon as they possibly could. All they would have to do was wait at the docks. There would be a way across the Fold, one that the Sun Summoner and her tracker would use. The trio could wait for them there, they could become part of the background. It was what they had done for years in the Barrel.

"Plotting face?" Jesper spoke softly from somewhere above him.

"Plotting face," Inej agreed. Kaz could almost hear the smile in her voice. She thought too highly of him. She thought that he was kind, that he was better than he was One day he would prove that he was the monster that the Barrel had made him. But until then he would take this kindness and cultivate it.

He needed loyalty in his crew. Loyalty would at least keep them from deserting him in whatever weak moments he may have.

"Shut up," he hissed at the two as he moved to stand. He gripped the crow's head of his cane, heading outside with purpose in his stride. Inej and Jesper scrambled to follow after him. He could tell they were amused by his actions. After all, it was not every day that he proved them both right within seconds. Normally, he went out of his way to keep people questioning him. He hated to prove people right or wrong. He lived to be an enigma of sorts. If too many people assumed that they understood him, he would never have any sort of mystery in his name.

Upon his exit from the bar, he noticed something that brought an overwhelming sense of both dread and morbid excitement to him. A carriage sat in front of the bar.

A carriage with General Kirigin's crest on the side. The sun in eclipse had never been more deadly nor more beautiful to him.

He glanced once at Jesper before looking away again. Jesper seemed to understand. He slid one of the beautiful Zemeni revolvers from its holster before heading to the carriage. Jesper was the one who could go around it without arousing suspicion. The Darkling hadn't seen him except for the briefest of seconds in the dark of the night.

Inej slipped away from him as well, heading up to the rooftops. The Wraith watched over him as though she were a guardian angel. Kaz Brekker knew that he did not deserve to be guarded by angels or Saints. He deserved demons, monsters. After all, he could rule over them with a smile and a smirk.

While Jesper gathered intel from whoever may have been in the carriage, Kaz slipped away from the scene. Despite his leg, he found that he could travel at a quick pace when the need arose. He wanted to find the General. Wanted to know just what he knew about the whole thing. Even if he knew that could be a death sentence.

Kaz was not afraid of death. He knew that his time would come sooner or later. He just had priorities before the Saints took him from the mortal plane. He needed to dethrone Rollins, needed to be better than every other boss in the Barrel. But most of all, he needed to prove himself to Jordie.

Finding Kirigin did not take long. In fact, it did not take any effort whatsoever. It felt as though he had turned a corner and there he was. Kaz was almost frightened at how quickly he had shown up. Almost, but not quite.

"You," his voice was a hiss. Kirigin was glaring at him, those eyes deep and dark enough that it reminded Kaz of the Fold. "You slimy little rat. Where is she? What've you done with her?" It took him a moment to realize that Kirigin meant Alina Starkov. The would-be-saint.

"She doesn't like being anyone's prisoner it would seem," Kaz stated as he leaned lazily against his cane. While he looked like the picture of contentment, his heart was pounding. He had learned long ago to not allow his anxieties to play on his face. It was easier when he looked as though he could care less about anything that was going on. That and it helped to piss people off. A pissed-off person was more likely to reveal their plans. Pride and anger got more people into trouble than anyone had ever cared to realize.

Kirigin began to walk towards him. Long legs causing long strides. The darkness of his shadows seemed to build around him as though they were living. Kaz wanted to throw up at the sight. "Give her back to me or your friends will meet a very sticky end."

Kaz's stare was bored although his palms were sweaty in his gloves. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and run as far as possible from this place. "I don't have the girl. I don't have friends. Threaten someone with something to lose next time." His gravelly voice came out rougher, the telltale sign of his lies. He hated that he still had a tell. He had worked for years to get rid of all of them.

He did have something to lose. All he had built could come crumbling down if he wasn't careful. He'd already put up the club in order to bring Inej along.

Kirigin snarled at him, a curse rising on his lips. Kaz did not need to be warned twice. He knew danger when he saw it. While most would assume that he did not have a sense of self-preservation, mainly because of how intense most of his plans seemed to be, he had quite an intense one. He would not let anyone kill him. Not anytime soon. Kaz was supposed to be the one who brought destruction to those who were not expecting it. He was not supposed to be the one who managed to get caught in the crossfires.

He flung his arm out, tossing down a flash bomb that his demolition man in Kerch had made him. He only had a few left, only to be used in case of emergency. The Darkling baring down at him? Yes, that counted as an emergency.

Kaz fled the scene as quickly as he could while Kirigin was blinded. He found himself back in the square, Jesper stood grinning far too widely with a book in his hand. Inej looked worse for wear, a haunted look in her eye and anxious energy surrounding her. They had been caught unaware. Kaz could not help but to blame himself for it. He should have expected some sort of attack after last night. After all, they had been seen running from the palace around the time the Sun Summoner had gone missing. They had targets on their backs.

"We need to leave, now," Inej twirled one of her knives as she spoke. Kaz nodded once before he motioned for the two to follow after him.

"Why not steal a carriage?" Jesper spoke as they ran past stables, his breath coming in soft pants that Kaz found somewhat annoying. The whole question was annoying. The situation itself was enough to darken his normally foul mood.

"It's what they expect of us after last night," Kaz stated as they slipped out of the town's gates. His chest burned, his leg ached, but none of it would make him slow. Not until they got somewhere they could hide long enough to figure out just what to do.

The three rushed into the forest, taking a moment to catch their breath once they were deep within the confines of the forest. Kaz knew that this was a stupid plan. He knew that they needed to be careful. With the Darkling at their back, they were in more trouble than he had originally believed. Yet, there was nothing they could do but try to find Alina. They had to figure out how to get her back and return to Kerch. They had to figure out if they even wanted to.

Inej was beginning to break. He could tell by the look in her eye and the set of her square jaw. He wondered why she still believed in her Saints. They had clearly forsaken her. So why did she find it within herself to be so pious? Why did she want anything to do with them? With any of it?

Questions he would never ask seemed to crowd his mind. He had trouble with that. He thought too much about too many things. It was normally a useful tool. He was able to see past things that most people didn't. He was able to find the smallest details and then exploit them. It had helped when he was rising in rank. It had helped him to capture the Barrel.

"Where do we go now?" Jesper questioned, his chest heaving as he panted. His eyes were wild, glancing at everything at once and seeing nothing. Kaz knew that Jesper often had trouble sitting still. He knew the sharpshooter needed to feel something moving at all times, whatever it was matching the beat of his heart.

"We continue to the docks. But we do so silently. We'll board whatever we can find to get us across the Fold. The Saint and her Tracker should make an appearance at some point," Kaz brushed the head of his cane off. Dust from his flash bomb still coated the surface. "We stick to the plan. We can outrun Kirigin and his Grisha as long as we keep our heads and avoid detection."

He stared at the sharpshooter as he spoke. Out of the three of them, Jesper was the most likely to be caught. He had a way of drawing attention to himself. That was the one thing they did not need. Having all of Ravka's Second Army coming after them would only lead to losing the club. And possibly their lives. That strangely did not affect Kaz as much as it should have. He was at risk of losing his life every day he stayed at the top of the Dregs.

"Okay," Inej breathed out through her nose, a sure sign that she wasn't happy. "So our entire plan is to wait it out?"

"Sometimes inaction can be the greatest action," Kaz stated as he began to walk away. They had to get moving before the sun went down. He didn't fancy being caught outdoors during winter in Ravka. Kerch got cold enough. Ravka, on the other hand, had nights that were below freezing in the depths of winter. Being turned into a frozen crow did not sound appealing to him.

"I don't think now is one of those times," Jesper spoke as he and Inej followed after Kaz. "We'll freeze our assess off before we get there."

"That would keep you from talking at least," Kaz grumbled as they trekked through the forest. He could feel Jesper's glare. Normally, he would have intimidated him or done something cruel in response. He did not have the energy. If his sharpshooter wanted to waste energy hating him, so be it. They would get out of this alive. They would keep the Crow Club. He wouldn't let them fail. Even if it meant alienating the only friends he'd ever had.

Kaz didn't believe in friendship. It was a waste of time. He had people who were loyal to him. People he could hold at arm's length. They could betray him but they could never tell anyone his secrets. They'd only ever be able to reveal an idea of who Dirtyhands was. No one would ever know the truth behind the Bastard of the Barrel. It was safer that way. Lonely, but safer. Jordie should've been the same way. Maybe then Kaz wouldn't be so alone in this damned world.

Thoughts of Jordie plagued him as they journeyed for three days.

It was three days of hell. Of breaking into random barns and sleeping on floors that smelled of shit and hay. It had been trekking through mud and snow, being near blinded by a blizzard, and foraging for food when they couldn't risk showing their faces in a town. Kaz had counted down the days till they had reached civilization. He had not been made for foraging and hiding in the dirt. The farm had never been what he had wanted. It never would be.

Inej was the one who got them lodging. A vacant house nearer to the Fold than anywhere else. Its occupants had been devoured by the Volcra. Kaz didn't care about the ghosts. The house didn't smell of hay or animal excrement. It would do.

There had been no talk of the Saint coming to town. No one had heard anything about a tracker either. The gossip in the tavern stayed focused on who was sleeping with who, who was with child, and who owed money to the crown. None of it mattered to him. None of these people were important enough to him. They weren't pigeons to swindle or those who would have any knowledge of the would-be-saint. All they were was normal, everyday people going about their shitty lives. Kaz couldn't hate them for not knowing anything and yet, he found them completely and utterly horrid.

The tavern the trio of crows found themselves in was as dank and depressing as every other tavern they'd seen. The lights flickered, the chairs creaked, and the glasses were more grime than glass. It was enough to make anyone's stomach turn. Yet, it was also the one place that reminded any of them of home. The Barrel was home if they liked it or not. Most of the time, it was something that everyone hated.

Everyone wanted out of the Barrel. Yet very few ever made it out. Kaz knew he would never get out. His heart belonged there. All the torn, shredded, dirty pieces of it. There had never been anywhere else for him. There never would be.

"Are you sure she'll show up here?" Inej questioned from her seat across from Kaz. She had a drink in her hands, although she stared into it as though it held every answer she'd ever searched for. He doubted she would actually drink it any time soon. Although, she had been known to surprise him.

"If she doesn't come of her own accord," Kaz began, staring at the patrons of the bar as he spoke, "then Kirigin will bring her. She's his great victory. He's a narcissist, he'll be determined to show her off. To end the Fold and claim Ravka as his own."

"Shouldn't we help her then?"

"No," he hadn't told her of the club. Hadn't told her what was at risk should they fail. No, he'd kept that to himself. It was his burden to bear. "She's the mark. She's not a damsel in distress."

The tavern door opened, spilling fresh sunlight into the darkness. He nearly winced at the golden light. A woman slipped in, a cloak covering her head. He could see golden hair underneath it, strands falling down her shoulders despite whatever attempts had been made to pull it back.

The woman walked with an easy elegance, her feet barely touching the floor as she strode to the bar. He didn't hear what she ordered, didn't know what she said to the barkeep. He just saw the way the man sneered, the way her fingers twitched. Instead of reaching for a knife, as he had assumed she would, she tossed a coin onto the bar.

Kaz knew he should look away from her but there was something there. Something that tugged at his brain. He recognized something about the woman. That alone could be dangerous. She may have been a Grisha in disguise. Someone who was looking for them as a favor to Kirigin.

The woman turned once she got her drink, her eyes scanning the bar and landing on their table. The hood of her cloak concealed her face and yet, he could feel her gaze upon him. His spine stiffened as she made her way towards them. Her graceful walk almost looked like a dance.

A sinking feeling began in the pit of his stomach.

"Mr. Vanzin," Anastasia Lantsov lowered her hood, a smile playing on her lips, "I've been looking for you."

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an-unseemly-gentleman · 3 years

Text

So, while chilling I, naturally, started thinking about breath of the wild and a thought occurred to me... ‘Why have I never seen anyone talk about how the depiction of the hero in the cut seen that plays during Kass’ recount of the battle 10,000 years ago has red hair?’.

[ID: screen shot from the cut seen, zoomed in on the hero. The stylised illustration depicts a person dresses in blue and red, holding the master sword and has flowing red hair. End ID]

Now, this could just be stylisation, but Link has always been some kind of blond.

[ID: A page from the Hyrule Historia showing the dates and various designs of Link through the different games. In each he is wearing some variation of his green tunic, shield and sword, and he is blond, or has very light brown hair in each. End ID]

Furthermore, the illustration that depicts the princess has blond hair.

[ID: screen shot from the same cut seen, zoomed in on the princess. The stylised illustration depicts Zelda wearing a white dress with flowing blond hair. Her arms are outstretched shooting out gold light. The complete triforce is to the right of her. End ID]

So, why is there this sudden deviation from Links design in this cut scene? This isn't something that Link or Kass is looking at, I don't think it appears anywhere in the actual game itself. Only the audience is shown this.

But... do you know who does have red flowing hair just like the illustration of the hero?

[ID: A screenshot from the Breath of the Wild 2 trailer. Zoomed in to focus on the emaciated corpse of who is suspected to be an incarnation of Ganon. He has very long, matted red hair that has faded in colour and is wearing a red or orange robe around his waist, gold arm bands and a headpiece with a glowing yellow jewel in the forehead part. His body is arched backwards, and his face contorted in pain as a blue disembodied hand adorned in geometric gold jewellery grasps the centre of his chest, the red-black energy of calamity pours out from under the hand. The grey-green tone of the scene washes out the true colours. End ID]

Yeah, dehydrated Ganon. So basically, what I’m saying is is that maybe the hero depicted in the cut scene isn't a reincarnation of Link, but rather Ganon, or, at least a Gerudo king. In addition to this, the illustration of the hero depicts him with green eyes,

[ID: screenshot of the hero in the cut seen zoomed in on his eye. End ID]

And who else has eyes that colour?

[ID: Left Image is a zoomed in cropped screen shot of Riju, she is resting her head on her right fist and is looking out towards the viewer. She has green eyes, red hair, blue lipstick and is wearing ornate gold jewellery and head piece. Right image is a zoomed in cropped screenshot of Urbosa facing the left of the image, she also has red hair, green eyes and blue lipstick. End ID]

So, not only does the depiction of the Hero have red hair but he has the green eyes of the Gerudo chieftains. Green eyes too is something that Link has never had, as he usually has blue, brown or black eyes depending on the style and design of the game/official artwork. Furthermore, this also contrasts to the black used for Zelda’s eye in the illustration,

[ID: Image 1: zoomed in and cropped image of Zelda’s eye in the cut seen. Image 2: the same image of the Hero’s eye from before. End ID]

The difference is subtle, but obvious side by side. Depicting his eye as green was undeniably purposeful. The evidence that this is a Gerudo man and not a Hylian man is building up...

From the time line, we know that Link isn’t always successful, or even exists at the same time as something catastrophic happening in Hyrule, so perhaps 10,000 years ago the reincarnation of Link failed to manifest, but a reincarnation of Ganon did. And, with Demise being a separate entity in the form of the Calamity, it didn’t poses him and so was spared from the curse that binds Gerudo kings to evil. Therefore, he would have every opportunity to be a hero, and take the place that Link failed to fill. Or, alternatively, the reincarnation of Link and Ganon became one.

We know that Gerudo women have to find men from other places to have children with, so a Gerudo chief and a Hylian man having a child together is most certainly a common occurrence seeing how close the two peoples are to one another both geographically and socially. So, perhaps 10,000 years ago a male child was born to the Gerudo chief and her Hylian partner, and this child was the reincarnation of both Link and Ganon as per the parameters of Malice’s curse.

In the Hyrule Historia, it is stated that Demise’s flaming red hair is a call back to his eventual connection to Ganon as his ‘”incarnation of hatred”, and the reincarnations of Link and Zelda are a result of blood relation to the first hero and princess that defeated him.

So, going forward, lets assume that the hero depicted is a reincarnation of both Link and Ganon simultaneously. Ultimate good and ultimate hate fused into one person that is capable of both the greatest good and evil. Furthermore, someone who posses both the triforce of courage and power. Since we don't know where BOTW falls in the time line, it can be assumed from the presence of the Arbiter’s Ground’s from Twilight Princess in the desert of BOTW that BOTW follows the timeline where the triforce is not re-fused as it is in Wind Waker. However, looking back to the image of Zelda in the cut seen, a complete triforce is before her at her feet.

With two of the triforce pieces being possessed by someone with courage and power that choose to be good, it would make sense for the princess then to have the opportunity to reform the triforce and use all its power to repel and seal the calamity.

Okay, so that’s all very well and good but... how does that make dehydrated Ganon the hero from 10,000 years ago? Well, perhaps there was still malice inside the hero, perhaps the Zonai wanted to make sure that Demise, malice and Ganon stayed gone... And this is where I would like to turn this theory over to everyone else.

Please feel free to rip this apart or add your own ideas onto this theory. I honestly don’t know if anyone else has this theory because I really haven't seen it talked about before on like the Zelda theory channels I watch on youtube or anywhere else online.

#botw #breath of the wild #botw theory #legend of zelda #long post #image description

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indigobackfire · 3 years

Text

HPHM OC Profile ✧

Aspen Samwise

" You got the same fire as your parents, Aspen, the fire of a fighter. Yet even brighter. I'm sure you'll make Slytherin proud. "

Full Name: Aspen Silverwood Samwise.

Nicknames: Penn, Penny, Sammy, Pipi (by her grandparents).

Gender: Female.

Birthday: 25th of June, 1975

Born: Glasgow, Scotland.

Parents: Ariel Samwise, Heather Silverwood S. - both Purebloods, Slytherins, and Scottish.

Siblings: None, she's a precious only child.

Ethnicity: Scottish (with Spanish and Slavic roots).

Sexuality: Heterosexual.

Blood status: Pureblood.

MBTI: ESTJ-A

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Appearance

Eyes: Her eyes are light blue with tiny brown specks.

Hair: Her hair is a dark brown very close to black, with white streaks scattered throughout, two falling right at the front, some back on her nape. It's straight with some wave to it. She has had it in various lengths throughout her Hogwarts years.

Height: She's a short baby - I'm bad with heights but I'd say 1,66m (5'4"ft).

• Her most prominent characteristic is her Piebaldism - that she got while her mother was pregnant and was hit by a miscast curse. It's all over her body, taking over big patches of skin, her hair and face. Her parents taught her to appreciate it and she grows to like it as it makes her look unique and stand out in the crowd.

• She likes her nails done and dark, but only starts having them long when she's older.

• She has both ears pierced and doesn't like wearing any makeup in daily life - but on special occasions, man, nobody can hold her back.

Magical Aspects

Wand: Ebony wood with Unicorn hair core, 11½", brittle flexibility.

Ebony is happiest in the hand of those with the courage to be themselves. Frequently non-conformist, highly individual, or comfortable with the status of outsider, ebony wand owners have been found both among the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix and among the Death Eaters. The ebony wand’s perfect match is one who will hold fast to his or her beliefs, no matter what the external pressure, and will not be swayed lightly from their purpose.

Patronus: Gemsbok. The largest and best known of the four species of oryx, or straight-horned antelope. It is one of the best desert-adapted large mammals, capable of surviving in waterless wastelands where many animals would perish. A horned creature like her father's Marco Polo Sheep and her mother's Addax.

Animagus: Eurasian Hobby. From the moment she found out Indigo was an animagus, she pestered her for months to help her become one as well, so in the middle of her fourth year, Indigo and Talbott help her through it, except she has to fetch the ingredients herself.

• She picks the Eurasian Hobby (type of falcon) after some research for its speed [speeds up to 99 mph (159 km/h)] and size - which is way smaller than Talbott's Golden Eagle - making a perfect animal for blending in and making a quick escape.

Abilities: Being really effing annoying and a good dancer. Oh, magical ones? Yeah, none.

Boggart: She has two major boggarts in her life:

Failing to protect those she loves by being incompetent, and it takes the form of someone she loves (alternating between family members) and an unknown person yelling at her for being unable to protect them.

Then, hurting someone she loves because she has become too obstinate and revenge thirsty, someone dark. It's combined with other fear that is seeing Diego hurt, so it's him she sees as the person suffering because of her.

Amortentia: Bonfires - she associates the smell and sound with bonfire parties her parents used to throw -, Crisp cold air - she's a Scot who loves the cold -, Peppermint toads and spicy salsa - she might have or haven't tasted it in a certain someone's kiss.

Miscellaneous

Pets: A white Bearded Dragon, Sugar Cube.

Things she always carries with her: Her wand, a dagger, a beanie, peppermint frogs, and snacks for her pet.

Lucky Amulets: A wasp-shaped brooch of gold and precious stones that's a family heirloom.

Best Friends

Barnaby: Her first and best Slytherin friend, because at first they were spying on each other - Barney for Merula and Aspen for Indigo - but it goes as one might expect from these two idiots. He helps her in the Forbidden Forest and she helps him with homework. She's the only person he's truly emotional with because he knows she won't judge him. She knows he had a crush on her cousin and pushed him to ask her out.

Linda Hoàng (OC): Her best girlfriend, tiny and chubby, the cutest and quirkiest Slytherin anyone could meet. The first Slytherin female seeker in many years. A hands-on creatures lover - the one getting her hands dirty, literally. Half Vietnamese and muggle-born - yeah, nobody knows what she's doing in Slytherin.

Andre: Just as sassy as Aspen and the one to give her fashion advice. He basically takes the young Slytherin as his "apprentice" - partially afraid she would become like a mini Merula/Ismelda. He teaches her dangerous spells the teachers don't.

Ismelda: For many years they don't get along, Ismelda's humor is too dark and cruel for her taste, and she's overall very shady. That until water starts to get shaky on her and her cousins' side and they need her help. She's forced to get to know her better when she finds out Phoenix has a crush on her, and through that, she discovers they're not that different after all.

Murphy: She has a crush on him for a while, but even when that dies down, she sticks around because she loves hearing him talk about strategy and thinks he's one of the smartest people she has met in Hogwarts. They play intense chess matches.

Jae: They share the same chaotic energy so it's just natural. He's her loyal detention companion and they enjoy having walks around Hogwarts talking about nothing in particular.

Academics

Favorite Classes:

Charms

History of Magic

DADA

Muggle Studies

Least Favorite:

Divination

Care of Magical Creatures

Arithmancy

Favorite Professor: Snape. She's a sassy, non-conformist, annoying Slytherin, what you want me to say?

Least Favorite: Quirinus Quirrell. He was her DADA professor for a while and she couldn't stand his stuttering, she also hated his classes.

Quidditch: She considered joining the team for the longest time but decided to pursue other passions, besides she would have to play against Indigo and other of her friends which she preferred not. She would've made a great seeker though.

Favorite Team: Montrose Magpies. Just like her family. She really excited when Indigo decided to start supporting them as well.

The last of my Silverwood family trio. Slytherin might be the house I'm least compatible with, still, I love coming up with her story and personality.

#hphm oc #hogwarts mystery #aspen samwise #oc profile #slytherin

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jaxsteamblog · 3 years

Text

Oma and Shu

Click here to read the full fic on AO3

Katara remembered what Rohan had told her about King Bumi. Avatar Aang had friends in every nation, but Bumi was always his closest companion and became another father figure in his children’s lives. In one familial anecdote, King Bumi had placed Baby Bumi on his throne and let him rule for the day, daring anyone to definitively prove that he wasn’t the actual king.

It was this intimate friendship that kept Omashu safe during the war until Aang passed. King Bumi was killed during the fall of Omashu, outliving his promise to Aang that he would see the end of the war.

His heir, Queen Liu, was not a relative. She had been his head accountant and, as stated in Bumi’s will, had been actually running the kingdom for the past decade. A head for numbers but little skill with people, Liu relied on her inherited friendship with Aang’s family to keep her seat in the turbulent political waters.

When Zuko had reached out, hoping for a visit, Liu cleared out a villa near the palace for them. Their interactions with the Queen when they first arrived was brief, and the dinner was slightly awkward, but the villa was airy and Katara could watch the ancient mail service fly by the windows.

Now, after the failed kidnapping, they were being brought in for a royal audience.

“I am so sorry.” Liu gushed as soon as they stepped into the throne room. Her green suit was rumpled and her crown was tangled in her short hair, giving her a frantic look that matched her energy.

“I had my security team sweep through the area just this morning.” She continued, taking quick strides to meet them.

The guard attending them stumbled to a stop, unsure of how to proceed.

“Your majesty, if my suspicions are correct, there was a lot of money that made sure you wouldn’t find out anything until it was over.” Zuko said, holding up his hands.

“And we’re fairly certain they weren’t planning on killing us.” Katara added, looking at Zuko. “Having us gravely wounded would have gotten the same result.”

Liu stared at them. Despite her inexperience with political machinations, she was still brilliant with equations. She snapped her attention to the guard, who reacted with the same alacrity as they saluted her.

“Find out who let them in and bring the persons responsible directly to me. I want it quiet.” She said. The guard nodded and left quickly, their heavy armored clothes making a clatter.

“I hope you don’t think Omashu is involved in this.” Liu said, attending to Katara and Zuko.

“Not at all.” Zuko said.

“Well, there might be some bad blood.” Katara interjected, rubbing the back of her neck.

The scorch marks, barely a decade old, were still present on the walls.

“Which may have been part of the plan.” Zuko agreed.

“So you do suspect someone here?” Liu asked coldly.

“No, your majesty. Only that an interested party in the Earth Kingdom would leverage that fact. Omashu was the only kingdom that was successfully invaded.” Zuko explained.

“Hmm.” Liu sounded irritated but then she let out a breath.

“We cannot come to war again. With the Fire Nation or another city-kingdom.” She said, pressing the tips of her fingers to her temple.

“We don’t want that either.” Katara said, taking Zuko’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Liu saw the movement and her eyes narrowed.

“How did you escape your assailants?” Liu asked.

Zuko and Katara looked at each other.

“The badgermoles saved us.” Katara said, facing Liu.

“Of course they did. They’re nothing if not hopeless romantics.” She replied.

Both being completely confused, they stayed quiet as Liu untangled her crown. The queen sighed as she straightened her hair and replaced the simple piece. She turned around and walked back to the throne, her hands behind her back.

Katara and Zuko followed after, walking slowly.

“I asked Bumi why he picked me, since I was the furthest thing from royalty in the entire kingdom.” Liu said suddenly, putting her hand on the flat arm of the stone throne.

“I’m a competent Earthbender and, like him, I know my crystals.” She continued. Lifting her hand, a column of purple crystal sprouted up after her. “But I’m a bastard.”

Lowering her hand, Liu pressed the crystal back into the nondescript stone.

When they didn’t reply, Liu snorted and sat down on the throne. Tapping lightly on the arms again, crystals erupted all around her.

“Oma was the first Earthbender and she ripped this entire kingdom up from the ground in her grief. There used to be a forest here, did you know that?” Liu asked. “It was mostly destroyed in the war between her village and Shu’s, but the rest lost its roots when Omashu emerged.

“Bumi told me that every single ruler of Omashu has been a bastard, because of one simple curse.”

“A curse?” Zuko repeated.

“No one had seen earthbending before. What Oma did was something people thought only the spirits themselves could accomplish. They thought her a witch, and probably would have sent her off with Shu had they not been thoroughly terrified.” Liu said. “And when she raised Omashu, she vowed never to marry and that if any marriage occurred in the royal line, they would be as barren as the desert that surrounds us. But worse, if the blood of fated lovers was ever spilled again in Omashu, the kingdom would fall.”

“So are you…?” Katara started and Liu shook her head.

“Bumi’s preferences would have a slim chance of ever producing natural children. I’m the illegitimate child of a professor and a housekeeper.” She answered.

“Wait, are you saying that you’re worried the kingdom will fall now?” Zuko asked.

“Had either of you died, I think we can all agree that plenty of people would look to hold me responsible.” Liu said. “My claim to this throne is tenuous at best, considering my history and Bumi’s chaotic whims.”

“I think prophecies and curses are made vague enough that a random coincidence could fulfill it.” Katara said.

“Why did you choose to visit Omashu?” Liu questioned.

“Our, well, the first time we went out together was to see an art exhibit about Oma and Shu.” Katara answered. “It was Zuko’s idea.”

“And why did you choose that?” Liu inquired.

“I.” Zuko cleared his throat and avoided eye contact. “I mean, I thought the similarity was interesting.”

“Two people from opposite sides of the war, but claiming no allegiance, love each other even as their people condemn them for it?” Liu asked.

Zuko shifted uncomfortably and Katara stared at him, mildly irritated and incredulous.

“In the name of Oma’s bastard children,” Liu said, speaking the typically annoyed phrase with lofty importance. “I acknowledge the bond of this pair and will strive to protect it.”

The solemnity fell on them, and Katara couldn’t even feel awkward.

“For as long as you two are together, you will have the friendship of all of Omashu behind you.” Liu said, speaking casually now.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Zuko said and bowed. Katara mirrored him, but felt empty inside.

She didn’t want prophecy or fate. She didn’t want a legacy to protect. She certainly didn’t want any part of a curse.

She just wanted Zuko.

But, Katara felt the warmth swirl in her chest, that was probably all Oma wanted too. To be with her beloved.

“Thank you.” Katara whispered to earth.

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#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #zutara month #modern au #the fic that prompts built

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whenwordsmakesense · 3 years

Text

Day 7: Crossover | Day 8: Magic

@pridewrite2021

Okay, so, this work consists of Dimension Travel, or “Crossing” into another world as I have taken from the prompt. I’m not sure if that counts, but I’ve already written it so... Here it is :D

(Lost You) Found You

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Ship: Derek Hale × Stiles Stilinski

Words: 3.3k

Summary: Only Derek is here. Maybe, once, Stiles would have thought that was enough. But it's not, it's not enough.It's not enough because there's a whole in his heart, his soul, his very being where the pack used to be.

He can't do this. He can't just—just forget and move on.

His panic attack goes away as fast as it had come, leaving behind a clear idea of what he should do.

For him and for Derek.

This is the link for AO3. Or you can read here.

Warning(s): Grief/Mourning, MCD, Child(ren) Death [not graphic, mentioned], Kate Argent [also mentioned]

>> Starts from here.

The rain falling down on the earth is harsh and unforgiving, and Stiles Stilinski loves it. The pain of the droplets falling on his skin makes him feel alive, lets him feel everything he's trying to repress feeling for a long time.

He thinks he mostly started to bottle up his feelings after he killed Allison.

“Let's go.”

Stiles doesn't move. He stays seated on the broken, burnt porch of the Hale House, tasting the guilt on his tongue, it's so potent.

It's not just his own, after all. Survivor's guilt is a bitch enough on its own, but mixed with two dudes who hate their very existence, what their choices have caused their loved ones—dead loved ones—it's so much more.

“It will follow us, you know.” Stiles says, because he knows it will. The bad luck is like a suffocating cloak around him, around both of them, a sadist entity that has pulled out the last breath from everyone but them.

Derek Hale sits beside him, their hands coming to intertwine of its own accord.

Stiles doesn't exactly remember when he fell in love with him. When his heart beat not for Lydia, but Derek. But he remembers the day he realised it.

It was in Mexico, when Derek died—only to evolve. But Stiles hadn't known he was evolving, and he'd wanted to stay beside the ex-Alpha. But because Derek Hale is a fucking martyr, he'd insisted Stiles go and save his best friend—even if Scott hadn't been his best buddy in ages. Stiles wasn't even sure he had friends anymore.

So Stiles had left. And then he'd come out with Scott alive, only to find Derek as a wolf, evolved and majestic and every inch strong and beautiful that Derek's soul is.

And then Derek had left with Braeden.

That had been four years ago, now. Derek had come back with him to fight against Monroe three years ago—and stayed.

Even if it meant watching his third pack die. Even if it meant having people to care about, and vowing to let no harm come to them, and failing them.

But the past-them didn't know what was about to come.

Stiles wished they did, because then he could have done something.

Not let everyone die, for one.

When their relationship began—his and Derek's—it was like the best feeling in the world. The two of them were easy, when the dust settled. There was—and still is—a familiarity between them that Stiles' soul believes comes from a past life.

But nothing good lasts in Beacon Hills, and soon the war became a death warrant for everyone in their pack.

There were divides so deep that none of them could trust each other with their personal information—Even Scott didn't know Liam and Theo were together until they found their bodies, Theo's body over Liam's, as if protecting him—Stiles still doesn't know if anyone but Lydia and his dad even knew about him and Derek. But despite the personal mistrust, they were pack. And pack kept each other alive.

Because they had each other's backs. Always.

Stiles remembers those late-nights, when everyone would hope for a better future without a war, where they could start living again. And he smiles at their hope, their positive attitudes.

And then he cries. Because none of them are alive and everyone is dead and it's just them and dad's gone and Scott is gone and Melissa is gone and Lydia is gone—

“Breathe, Stiles, please. Breathe.”

Only Derek is here. Maybe, once, Stiles would have thought that was enough. But it's not, it's not enough. It's not enough because there's a whole in his heart, his soul, his very being where the pack used to be.

He can't do this. He can't just—just forget and move on.

His panic attack goes away as fast as it had come, leaving behind a clear idea of what he should do.

For him and Derek.

At least one thing in his life isn't completely bad.

***

The Animal Clinic—the one Deaton left behind after his death in Scott's name, and now belongs to the County since Scott didn't think to name it to anyone else—stands deserted and dirty in the pale light of the half-full moon.

“What if it doesn't work?” Derek asks him. Stiles looks at him, and he looks just as he'd expected. Resigned.

It's either this will work, or they'll die trying.

Derek doesn't mind dying. Stiles knows because he's heard the man crying and shaking and admitting it—losing Cora after years of believing she was dead only to find she wasn't dead, and then being a major reason in her actual death would do that to anyone, not to mention the tremendous loss Derek's faced his whole life.

It's ironically sad, how the both of them have drifted closer, both of them hating themselves for the loss of everyone so much that the love they share for each other is barely more than an attempt to have something right.

But Stiles loves Derek, and he thanks the universe for loving Derek not just to hold on to something, but because he cares. As Derek does for him.

Derek helps him prepare the spell, the set-up. Stiles has never been more grateful in his life for his weird brand of magic—of the power his belief holds.

Stiles knows this is the only way he'll be able to live, and he knows it's the same for Derek. But he also knows that he would have made it, even if barely, as long as Derek would be by his side.

He kisses Derek, long and passionate and with everything he has. When they part, Derek rests their foreheads together.

“I love you.” Derek tells him. A tear flows from his electric, glowing blue eyes, and Stiles wipes it away with his thumb.

“I love you too. With everything in me.”

And then he believes.

***

The residents of Beacon Hills, the few those remain, feel goosebumps rise on their skin on one evening of 2017, days after the latest massacre of their little town.

They all hallucinate a voice saying, “Balance,” freezing everyone, and then they continue on, unaware that the things were about to change.

Things were about to change for the better, The Spark's and The Alpha's belief powered the Nemeton to make sure of that.

***

The cold air is what wakes him up. That, and the soft groaning from his right, which Stiles instantly recognises as Derek.

Stiles opens his eyes, and the air around him doesn't feel oppressive. It's easier to breathe, to think. There's a feeling in his chest that can't quite grasp, and he's so buy trying to analyse it that he completely misses the huge tree stump behind him.

It's only when Derek curses about fucking woods that he realises they aren't in the clinic at all, but out in the preserve and near the Nemeton.

Stiles looks over at Derek. The 'wolf looks back with wide eyes.

“I—Stiles,” he chokes out, voice a thin line between relief and a sob, “I can feel them. I can feel them, all of them,”

The hole in his heart, his soul seems smaller, somehow, like they're being stitched together, and Stiles only has a vague idea about it. But the way Derek is reacting, his suspicions are confirmed.

“It worked,” Stiles whispers, and hugs Derek tight, both of them crying in euphoria.

Lost in themselves, neither of them notices the small plant that blooms behind them on the Nemeton, a new life breathed into it by the sacrifice of the various souls the two travelers brought with them.

Across the town, a Druid snaps his eyes at the sky above, instantly alerted to the change in the air—the lightness, the power—and his eyes almost bug out of his skull when a voice whispers, “Balance.”

***

Stiles and Derek trek through the familiar woods of the preserve in soft whispers and an excitement that neither has felt in a long time.

“I wonder what's different here,” Stiles says, hands moving with Derek's, clasped tightly as it is. They might have made it to another dimension or universe or whatever this is, but they haven't left their paranoia or love or past behind him. They're who they are because of their experiences, and it's not going to change, even if they get an eternity to do so. But it doesn't mean they aren't at least a little bit excited.

Derek had said he smelled his family all over the preserve, which means Stiles has somehow made them cross into a universe where the fire never happened.

“We aren't here.”

Stiles stops in his tracks. He looks at Derek. Stares, really. “The hell?”

Derek looks at him with soft, but sad eyes, like he has since they first lost Stiles' dad and then slowly everyone else.

“Stiles,” he says, “I might not know much about magic, but I know that there can't be two of us in the same universe. Magic won't let it happen.”

Stiles stares at Derek for a long while. “You can't smell yourself, can you?” He asks softly.

Derek nods his head. He laughs hollowly. “Guess me dying would really have been the best thing,”

Stiles kisses him to shut him up. “No, dumbass. Neither of us can have two of us here. If you're gone it means I am too,” he says fiercely. “We don't know what's different here, Der. For all we know you died in a stupid car crash because you drive so fucking fast—”

Derek's laugh, a little more genuine now, makes him smile and kiss Derek on the cheek.

“The thing is, we don't know. Anything could have happened, okay? Your family's death has never been your fault.”

Derek nods, and then with his eyes boring into Stiles' like they can read everything on his mind, Derek says, “Your mother's death or Allison's and Aiden's deaths has never been your fault.”

They both ignore the tears that fall from Stiles' eyes, and then Derek is tugging at his hand to continue on their little trek to the Hale House—which is hopefully standing, unburnt and filled with every bit of joy and noise that it wasn't in their world.

***

The two of them emerge from the trees to a house that's filled with silence. There's no noise coming from inside, and the lights are off—Stiles thinks they're in mourning. But why?

Derek leads him further, their hands forever joined together, and Stiles can't even appreciate the beauty of the house—the images of the burnt out husk that it was in theirs plays over and over in his mind—because it feels... Wrong.

He would have thought they'd all be happy. Full of life and enjoying every moment spent together.

Before Stiles can ask Derek to relay what he can hear, the 'wolf's breath hitches and groans out a choked off, “Laura,”

The main door of the house slams open, and there stands a woman who Stiles has seen all but once in his life—body sliced in half—and instantly recognises.

Tears falls from his eyes, and he lets Derek stick his nose in his neck, inhaling the scent of his boyfriend, of his comfort, his anchor.

Stiles rubs his hands over Derek's back, comforting him as much as he's able while he himself grieves for the years Derek's sister—her Alpha—could have lived but didn't. “She's alive, Der. She's alive, your sister is alive.”

He looks up at Laura when he hears a whine. Laura looks like she's seen a ghost, and when she keeps looking at Derek—and him, like she's seeing his ghost too, but they didn't know each other in this world, or did they?—Stiles can only crumble in his self-hatred and guilt.

He's never claimed he's not a liar, after all.

“We're dead in this world, aren't we,” he whispers, and Derek steps back just enough to say, “I was right,”

Stiles punches him in the shoulders. It makes Derek smile, even if it's wobbly.

Stiles watches as Derek goes to hug his sister, and the way she falls into his arms, boneless. He feels himself wishing to hug his dad, his pack. And then like suddenly his luck has gotten turned around and it's all good from then on, he sees two people he never would have thought to in the Hale House.

“Mom, dad,” he whispers, and then he's being hugged, too.

***

Stiles and Derek sit on the loveseat in the living room, both of their hands intertwined, anchoring them in the sea of people they'd never thought they'd see again. Not after they buried them all.

Stiles feels angry and envious at them all at only ever losing two people when he and Derek have lost everyone, but he pushes that feeling down underneath all the happiness he gets at having to have back all of them. Derek seems to be on the same boat as him, because they always seem to be.

Talia Hale and Nathaniel Hale—Alpha and Alpha Mate of the Hale Pack—sit in the middle of the room, in direct eyesight of him and Derek, as good Alphas are wont to do when unknown people wearing their dead kid's faces show up unexpectedly.

Peter Hale, Laura Hale and Cora Hale all sit on the floor before the two of them, Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd sitting in their touching distance.

And then there's Noah John Stilinski and Claudia Stilinski, both of them sitting on the other loveseat, completing the circle.

Derek and him have put their emotions in the backburner for now, because both of them know when it comes to the safety of their pack, they'd rather be objective than emotional. They've lost too much to not learn that.

“So,” Talia Hale starts, eyes boring into Derek's for a moment before she has to avert her eyes, “you claim to be Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski.”

Derek shares a look with him, and Stiles puts his hand on Derek's knees. They might have decided to put their emotions in check, but doing it is harder in practice.

“Yes,” he says, and squeezes Derek's thigh in comfort. Everyone is drawn to that movement, but none of them say anything. Stiles throws Laura a glance though, because she seems to be biting back a smirk.

“Why should we believe you?” Talia continues.

“Ask us anything that only we would know.” There can't be that much of a difference in their lives, right? The fire obviously didn't happen, and his mom is alive, but Erica, Boyd and Isaac still ended up being werewolves. There has to be some sort of overlap.

Cora flashes her yellow beta eyes at them. “My brother died at 16. Stiles—the real Stiles—died when he was 10. There's not much we can ask.” She gives them a feral smile, full of teeth—Derek and Stiles share a look; she's definitely been spending a lot of time with Peter—and adds, “But you already know that, don't you?”

Derek takes a deep breath and shuffles closer to Stiles, and Stiles knows without words that he is missing their Cora right now—the one they buried beside Laura.

Cora's smile falters at Derek's display, and she looks at everyone before focusing back on them.

Stiles gives her a hard look. “No, Cora. We didn't know that.” He says, voice hard from the tears he's holding back. “How did they die? And when?”

Nobody answers him. Well, if it's going to be like that.

Stiles has always been good at research. It's not hard to figure things out. And given that it's January here—like it was there—and the fact that he knows they were all mouring together... Something must have brought the two families together. Something other than their kids' death.

“Der, when did the fire happen?” He asks softly. Derek looks up at him with furrowed brows.

“You know when,” Derek says.

“I do,” he agrees. “Tell them.”

Understanding dawns on his face. Bunching up Stiles' hoodie, Derek leans in and kisses him, hard and desperate, like he's afraid Stiles will vanish any second.

“Idiot.” Derek calls him fondly.

“Says the ex-Alpha with the martyr complex,”

Someone clears their throat, and Stiles pulls back sheepishly. It's strangely good to be scolded on his PDA with his boyfriend. Actually it's good to not be just the two of them anymore.

“Want to share with the class?” Stiles' dad asks, and he turns to look at Derek.

Derek takes a deep breath in, and looks straight at Talia. “25 January, 2005. Kate Argent and her goons line the house with mountain ash and trap eleven members of the Hale Pack inside, burning them alive.” His jaw works painfully as he continues, words filled the pain that never really went away, only to be filled with more pain than a person should endure. “But I am guessing that didn't happen here. Somehow Stiles—” he looks defiantly at the Stilinski's, “—Mieczyslaw managed to find his way to me and fought her. Didn't they? And she killed them.”

“And I killed her,” Peter tells them. Stiles isn't really surprised.

“And it all happened today, on January 25, twelve years ago,” Stiles states. It's not a question. And with the way everyone in the room stiffens, it's true.

“Are you sure she's dead?” Derek asks then, and Stiles kisses his knuckles when the 'wolf's hands trembles in Stiles' hold.

Peter's eyes flash. They're golden. “I burned her with the same match she was going to kill my pack with.”

“Good.” Stiles tells him.

He and Derek are never going to be okay again. They might have found a world where none of their loved ones—their pack—die, but that doesn't erase their past. The scars are there, etched on every atom of their being, and they won't ever leave. They will fade, maybe, one day. And there might be bonds in his heart connecting him to everyone—Derek, his parents, the Hale Pack. Even Scott, Malia. Melissa, Lydia, Jackson, Ethan, Jordan, Allison, Kira, Liam, Mason and Theo—even if he has no idea where any of them are.

Stiles just knows he has his bonds, however fragile, connecting him to everyone, and Derek has his. It's clear in the way Derek's posture is just a little more relaxed—a little more tall, like he's purging the negative feelings from himself—like Stiles supposes he is too.

Crossing over to another world simply with the will of his magic might not be what Stiles had imagined he'd find that night when he urged Scott to find the dead body with him—Laura's body—but Stiles can't do anything to change that.

And something tells him this was always supposed to be how it all played out.

Him and Derek, losing everyone that ever meant something to them, only to jump to another world where every person they loved lost them.

Proving themselves they're who they say—and then being smushed in a hug that's as stifling as it's freeing.

Stiles won't say he'd rather have changed what happened, even if he wants to. Magic is its own entity, another form of nature that's manifested itself over eons, and if magic has brought them here—and it has—then Stiles, or Derek, or anyone, none of them have any say in what will happen.

They can only hope this was their last trial.

#pridewrite2021 #pw alt7 #pw alt8 #f: teen wolf #m: fanfic #r: Mature #c: stiles stilinski #I: Bisexual #c: derek hale #I: Demisexual #spark stiles stilinski #beta derek hale #MCD #alternate universe - canon divergence #everyone dies #dimension travel #everyone lives #my fic #whenwordsmakesense

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eternalthenas · 4 years

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what bothers me the most about tros and what i’m most unable to accept is how jj managed to destroy and disrespect EVERY single character. even the ones who technically had “happy endings”🤡

ben - i feel like this one doesn’t even need to be said, but i’ll say it anyways. after years of emotional abuse from palpatine, it’s disheartening to see that jj gave no explanation as to why palpatine wanted ben (personal vendetta against the skywalkers i guess??) when it semed like he only needed rey AND that ben never really triumphed over palpatine in any way. it hurts to know that leia straight up had a vision about her son’s death but that she still seemingly gave up on him despite knowing that he was struggling and that she sent him off to train to be jedi with a luke, when apparently she could’ve done that herself. it’s disheartening that luke who believed even vader could be turned back to the light also gave up on his nephew, when he was just a boy no less. it’s disheartening that although he was the last skywalker (a fact only palpatine acknowledged!), none of his family nor his namesake reached out to help him. instead of telling the last skywalker to rise, they ignored him (as they had apparently done his whole life) in favor of a palpatine. ok. even though as the last skywalker, he really should’ve been the one to have the final kill against palpatine since it was HIS family that palpatine destroyed, he doesn’t. he’s motionless in a pit for the whole final battle. ok. that will never not leave a bad taste in my mouth. his whole family (except for han apparently i love him) gave up on him and clearly so did the writers. as a fan of the skywalkers and their story, this isn’t the ending i wanted for them. especially when luke and leia and han had given their lives to see him turn to the light. and for what? so he could be used as a plot device to conveniently bring rey back to life and then promptly die (even though they’re a force dryad and, according to jj’s own fucking canon, supposedly one) without any fanfare, emotional reaction whatsoever, or later mention? wtf? it’s disrespectful not only to ben solo, who is easily the best character in the sequel trilogy and one of the best characters in ALL of star wars, but it’s disrespectful to the entire skywalker line!! (and to adam driver, who deserved so much better than this shit. go get that oscar)

rey - by making her a palpatine, jj completely disregarded her arc. whatever your opinions about rey nobody, once they went with it, they never should’ve retconned it and turned her into a legacy character in the final film. it felt cheap. in my theater, there was no cheering about this reveal. because jj had never properly set it up and he didn’t even bother to reveal it an impactful way. but what’s most annoying about rey suddenly being a legacy character is that it completely disregards the fact that she was powerful on her OWN, without any famous blood making her that way. furthermore, by turning her into the chosen one and giving her the entire skywalker legacy (which felt like a slap in the face to the skywalkers imo), she did turn into a mary sue, one of the biggest complaints about her since day 1. she was overpowered, morally perfect, and never faced any failure. i struggled to root for her as the “hero” because i felt everything was handed to her on a silver platter. so not only did jj turn her into a mary sue and take her power away from her by turning her into a legacy, but he also destroyed the fact that her whole arc had been “seeking belonging” and a family. rather than having her final scenes be with her new found family, she ends the movie with her canon soulmate dead and no one but a droid by her side on a desert planet of all places. to add further insult to injury, she also disregards her family name even though they supposedly loved her and sacrificed themselves for her (despite the fact that they sold her but whatever) in favor of a last name of a guy she had barely known. she had more emotional connection to han or leia, but she didn’t take their last name. she took luke’s, the guy who had refused to teach her and who she had come to view in a more negative light towards the end of tlj. in this house i will not EVER be calling her rey sky- i can’t even say it🤢

finn - in all honestly, they screwed finn’s character arc in episode 1 when jj turned him into a lovesick sidekick who served as comedic relief. as a deserted stormtrooper, he could’ve had the most interesting storylines. and he should have. but apparently the writers forgot about him. although they mention his past BRIEFLY, it’s paid no real weight or attention. instead, he spends the whole movie once again trying to (possibly) confess his feeling for rey. and for what? probably just to bait finnrey fans and prove the character’s heterosexuality bc it goes absolutely nowhere. although we find out he’s force sensitive, that too is glossed over and has no lasting effect. he’s also made co general, which okay cool, but then he does nothing?? so while finn could have and should have been a main character with an interesting storyline, they turn him into your average run of the mill action hero with an occasional quip. john boyega, sweetie, i’m so sorry (but i guess that’s kind of what he wanted since he hated tlj, the only movie where he actually had a main role with any character growth?? idk)

poe - it’s once again evident that they originally intended to kill off poe bc he has no arc whatsoever. he gets a little backstory as a drug smuggler now ig, which really came out of left field considering the already established canon with his past as a pilot. he’s more of the same in this movie, except more unlikable than usual (imo). he’s still stubborn, occasionally funny, but mostly he just bickers with rey, which isn’t funny, at all necessary, and doesn’t add anything to the “trio’s” dynamic. he’s at his best when he’s with finn but then, of course, jj has to remind us of how straight he is every single scene so. another character like finn who could have been great, but with the lazy writing, he has no arc, no backstory, no character growth, so he’s just mediocrity personified and just kind of there.

zorii & jannah - both could’ve been awesome. both are just there for a brief introduction and to help the heroes with maybe one thing and that’s it. both deserved better.

the skywalkers - yeah jj really said a big fuck you to luke, leia, and anakin most of all. the WORST part of tros is the fact that it basically makes the previous six episodes useless. anakin’s redemption arc? what does it matter now? he didn’t successfully bring balance to the force. he didn’t successfully kill palpatine. and now his entire bloodline is dead. ok cool😎 thank you jj!!!! what a hopeful end to the skywalker saga!!!! i love seeing that anakin failed and wasn’t REALLY the chosen one. i love that luke and leia gave their legacy to a descendant of the guy who tried to tear apart and terrorized their family. that’s really nice. i love that anakin NEVER reached out to help his grandson who struggled with the dark just like he did. but that he came in just in time to tell palp’s granddaughter to rise😍 really hopeful, lovely ending. thanks again jj! thanks for making leia seem like a bad mother who sees visions about her son but just throws in the towel and doesn’t really try to help him?? wtf??? not my princess leia. also tros luke? truly the worst luke. i really have no other words, i’m just disappointed. jj let me down in every single way possible and ones i didn’t even realize he could.

palpatine - jj also managed to ruin the best star wars villain, a feat i didn’t even think possible. palpatine had always seemed scary to me because of his inhuman qualities. but in this one, he’s back with no explanation whatsoever. he just is. he somehow managed to survive (ok🙄) and furthermore he had a kid. what in the fuck? jj clearly read harry potter and the cursed child, but he clearly also forgot to read the reviews. NOBODY LIKES IT WHEN THE PREVIOUSLY UNTOUCHABLE/SCARY VILLAIN HAS A KID OUT OF NOWHERE. NOBODY. i seriously spent the entire movie wondering who the heck would sleep with him? that’s it. he didn’t seem menacing or at all like a threat. this movie genuinely had no stakes whatsoever (that’s why ben’s death feels so out of left field bc literally for what?! but i digress) also the final “fight” where rey kills him??? very lame. he supposedly survived all those years to be taken out like that?? no thank you, i’d like a refund.

in conclusion, thank you to jj for ruining my favorite franchise by killing off every last one of my favorite characters, destroying the skywalker legacy (& killing them off), ruining seriously every character, and leaving me with despair!!! while i’ll continue to watch star wars without including episode 9, it sucks that some of my joy is zapped from my favorite series. because this is how future generations will know star wars. with this shitty ending. and any future movies will have this canon. and that really fricking sucks. thanks, i hate it.

anyways feel free to message if you’re also in the depths of despair about how this all ended!! bc the more i think about it, the sadder/angrier i get.

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unicornbitchface · 3 years

Text

Raat ki Rani

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Background: A story set in the colonial past of India.

Beta’d by my lovely friend @madbaddic7ed !

Warnings: harsh languange

...............................................................................................

Chapter 3

The hall looked magnificent as if the ghosts of the past had brought them back to the days of glory. The chandelier was lit up, its jewels reflecting light upon every nook and corner.

The musicians played with vigor, expecting a heavy reward for their best efforts and the sweet-scented welcome of every guest added to the pomp.

Every high born around the state was to be present in the feast, and there they were, happy to make the acquaintance of the new British resident. The only glitch was that the said officer was nowhere to be seen, making the Maharaja jittery and a little annoyed.

Soon everyone would start asking questions, for how long was he supposed to distract guests with starters? With this thought, Ganga nodded at Kulwant, asking him to get an update.

*******

Late again! But the blame was on the delay with the dress they insisted to be worn. What was wrong with the old ones? Nothing when I see them!

Who in their right minds would wear these? UGH. I will have to talk to the culprits after this goddamn feast for that buffoon!

As Damini walked through the seemingly deserted halls of the palace, fixing her stubborn hair, adding a gajra and cursing the dressmaker, she did not realise that she took a wrong turn.

Distressed by her woes of fashion and etiquette that mandated her presence in that debauchery, she walked in a jiffy towards her dear friend, Ashwanth.

The gajra, long forgotten, embraced the side of the marble tile near a very special room. Only the melody of her heavy gold trinkets echoed in the air paired with a certain gift, attracting the attention of a handsome blue-eyed devil who was switching to his suits after giving the Indian kurta a chance.

The sound made him curious like the first night, and his feet dragged him to the halls. Only half dressed, shirt unbuttoned, he looked around and tried to trace the echo. All that he could concur, was a moving shadow with the curves of silk, the bells moving in sync with those voluptuous hips. Coming back to his allotted room, the only remnant of that siren laid across the floor.

The gift.

That smell.

His hand snatched the bunched flowers, as if the grounds would swallow them if he wasn’t quick enough. One whiff and he knew he needed it in his life more than the opium his friends favoured.

So, it belonged to a person after all, and by the accompanying silhouette, a woman.

His woman.

A sudden realization had his pupil dilated, as he went back to the room. She might be at the feast.

If he heard them right, everyone significant would be present in that hall, and she was the most significant.

He chuckled at his poetry, what is wrong with me, he thought. He moved around the room with swiftness but also a renewed interest, humming tunes while he applied a dash of cologne and adjusted his jacket to perfection.

He passed the mirror one last time, stopping to fix his hair. He had to look perfect for his sweet maiden. His brows furrowed, a troubling thought flashing his mind. What if she was spoken for? What if she was claimed already, her heart in someone else’s hands?

Blue eyes turned colder than a foot of ice.

Hands on the desk,

He looked at himself,

A crooked smile gracing,

Then what?

Then,

A war like no other.

A war that would put Trojan and Mahabharata to shame.

A knock at the door tamed the raging storm in his eyes. Lord Cavill looked up, frowning at the distasteful intrusion upon his whims and fancies.

Ah, the big bad boulder.

“Come in, General! I assume you are here to escort me to the venue?”

“Khamba Ghani Cavill Saab. I heard that the British people are always on time, and yet here I find you, barely dressed for the occasion.”

A smirk laced the British resident’s face as he retorted, “Well you’re not wrong, but I happen to be the guest of honour and I may arrive whenever I may please. In fact, just for that comment, I would like to take a few more minutes before I leave.” And he turned towards his desk and picked up a recent correspondence from the Crown.

Kulwant couldn’t help but roll his eyes, a movement instantly caught by the blue-eyed man.

“Keep going! I will take an extra minute for each time you roll your eyes, kind sir.”

It was beyond the General’s comprehension that a man as petulant as this entitled bleached monkey, could even hold the post of a hawaldar in court, let alone be a Lord of some sort. Nevertheless, he was a guest, and of honour at that.

Thus, the loyal servant of the court stood tall and quiet while the firang made his point, albeit unnecessarily.

Once he was done having fun at the General’s expense, Cavill agreed to be escorted to the event. He reached the hall, and couldn’t believe his eyes for a minute.

The hall looked straight out of a fairytale, and the worth of the mere jewels studded on the walls could help him buy a couple of kingdoms.

He reigns in his musings, and walks toward Maharaja Ganga Singh.

************

“We don’t have time! Baba will decorate his court with my head! Let’s go!”

“Damu! Come on, wait! You don’t even have flowers in your hair.”

“You think I care, Ashwanth!? I can barely move in this outfit! It’s so heavy and so unnecessary! All for that invader and his honour! What can be more honourable than stealing lands you have no business with, right?”

“Damu, don’t be silly! You’re a princess, and you cannot just march into the hall like a maid! Here, let me put these roses and..Can you just.. oho! THERE.”

“That’s right! I am a princess and this is my palace! Watch me..”

The two friends kept bickering along the way. Anyone who had seen these two would mistake them for longtime lovers, and yet things remained strictly platonic, at least from Damini’s end.

For someone with an expertise in strategising, warcraft and literature, the princess often missed the veiled looks Prince Ashwanth threw at her. How he always brought gifts, only in exchange for her ruthless company and how he bowed down to all her incessant demands, all for her pleasure.

To Ashwanth, she was the key to his future and beyond. To Damu, he was the ever constant confidant, seemingly balanced and loyal to a fault.

As they moved towards the hall, she made eye contact with her father and naturally started walking to him, just like she has been trained to, her seat to his left calling out to its rightful master. What she didn’t realise was a figure moving in the same direction.

Lost in conversation and the pull of the decorum, she collided with a commoner, which only fueled her frustration.

“Dekh ke nahi chala jata kya? Humare raste aane ki himmat kaise hui?” (Can't you see where you're going? How dare you get in my way?)

“What did you just say?! How dare you use that tone with me?

“Poore mahal mein yeh gorey deemak ke bhaanti badhte hi ja rahe hain! Ek din ka bhi chain nahi hai!”(These white people are everywhere, like pests! Give me a break)

“Damu yeh..”(Damu this is….)

“Honge apne desh mein nawab, yahaan pe inki aukaat humaare naakhoon baraabar bhi na hain! Aur aise kya ghoor rahe hain yeh, laaj lajja kuch hai inko?” (He might be a Lord in his country, but here he isn't worth my toenail! And why are you staring at me like that? Have you any shame?)

Lord Cavill fumed at this disgrace of a woman, one who dared to look him in the eye and dared to speak while addressing him directly. Although he could not understand her words, her tone and posture were enough to get her backhanded, had they not been in the presence of company.

This unruly child must be taught a lesson.

If anyone asked Lord Cavill, a woman’s tongue is only good for two things, sewing her mouth shut and on his cock whenever he pleased. If he didn’t expect the siren of his dreams to be in attendance, he would have put her in her place. Even if he could not punish this puny, dusky troll, he still had a reputation to defend.

“You listen to me carefully woman! You are messing with the wrong man, and spewing gibberish in some primitive language is not going to save you! Do you even know who I am? You are in MY bloody court and if I please, I can rip that serpentine tongue out of that pretty little hole! So you better apologise!”

“Cavill Saab.. please.. that’s my..”

“APOLOGISE? For what? Standing on my own soil? Or comparing you to a termite? None of which are false in my eyes. So get out of my way and know your place or you know what, go cry to your incompetent Lord!”

A storm raged in their eyes, wrath of all oceans combined in his and a black blizzard stirred concurrently in hers.

“Eyes down now, foreigner. ” The Tigress growled in warning.

The entire hall was suddenly quiet at the outburst. The musicians had stopped playing, and by the look of amusement on their faces, this was not the first time Damini Bai Sa had been the centre of attention.

Ashwanth tried pulling her back, her father was shooting daggers at her, while her siblings stood with aggravated expressions, exasperated by this wild child. It was Ganga Singh, who walked towards the ruckus and roared, which broke the deadly silence that had thickly draped the occasion.

“DAMINI! Are you out of your mind?! Do you even know WHO that is? Forgive me my Lord! This is my youngest child, Rajkumari Damini Bai, and I do not know what got into her, she is nothing like this!”

Renu and Revati Bai snickered at this comment and tried to hide their glee when they could see their father’s plan failing. No way will Lord Cavill bed this wild boar! They were preparing themselves for saving the kingdom, all the while reaping the seeds of pleasure from it.

“Damu, this is Lord Cavill himself. What is wrong with you, my child? Apologise, right now!”

“I would rather do Jauhar..” (light a pyre)

“DAMI..”

“It’s alright, Mr. Singh! I cannot expect common courtesy from uncultured brats like her. It just saddens me that you bear this burden on your shoulders! She certainly must have brought tremendous shame to the title of a Princess!”

Damini was about to give him a piece of her mind when Ashwanth pulled her back and gave her a solid glare.

Lord Cavill continued, “ Forgive me, but Maan Singh and your daughters seem like true blue-blooded beings. Has she been adopted from the streets?” His condescending tone should have had all the swords in the realm drawn up, but the language barrier and a father’s resolution to shove his daughter at him, saved the British neck.

Damini could not tolerate the insult and charged at him, “ Oh this is it! You goddamn plague sore! I will..” but was blocked by Ashwanth who was done watching her embarrass the Rajputana pride like a common whore.

“THAT IS ENOUGH DAMINI! Go take a seat!” The Maharaja ordered. But when she moved to her designated seat, her father grabbed her by the arm and lashed out with gritted teeth, “Sit with the guests. That seat belongs to your Master now. And don’t you dare embarrass me further. You are to serve him, and make sure he is left wanting for nothing. Nothing.”

Tears threatened to fall as the Tigress straightened her back, the princess coming to the fore, taking her position in the room, finding her place in the oppressive hierarchy.

Cavill watched her change her stance, a subtle nod to whatever her father threatened her with and for a second, he was impressed by the precise mutation. That is when he noticed the princess for the first time. Not so bad for a desert kingdom, blooming in all the right places.

Back home, feisty women were his speciality, and he would often tame the likes of this woman, ploughing through their virgin lands.

His eyes wandered to her navel, as she walked to the guy who took her away earlier. Must be fucking her, and not enough at that! If she were in the right bed, she would be blissed out and her tongue tired. He could see her under him, screaming for an entirely different reason.

As the lust awoke, the mere thought of breaking this ballsy female had blood rushing to his groin, steeling his resolve as well as his cock. He had never bedded a princess, and was primed to claim her body for one night.

If that man could have her, she was fair game to all.

He strode towards the prize, steps decisive and eyes frigid. That is when he heard her voice, lowered but not discouraged by any means.

“Ashwanth, they let him take my seat, MY seat! And how could he say that about my lineage!? It was my seat!”

Ashwanth patiently replied, “ Don’t create a scene Damu, a chair does not define your position in the house, neither does some outsider! And can you please stop talking in English? You know how our people feel about it!”

Damini was feeling suffocated and needed to take a breath, but her luck soured the moment she felt thick fingers grabbing her arm, and felt his breath at the nape of her neck.

“You don’t need to get so riled up, princess. You know you can always sit on my lap like the little bitch you are.”

Damini looked at him with such fire in her eyes that it would have put Hestia to shame.

"Take. Your. Hands. Off. Me."

Taken aback, Cavill's grip loosened and she jerked out of his grasp with a rippling force. Much to the astonishment of the onlookers, she turned on her heel and stormed off.

The pride of her tears matched with the stride of the Tigress, refusing to fall before anyone.

***********************

Hindi Terms:

Khamba Ghani: Rajasthani salutation and a way to say hello.

Firang: A derogatory term used for Europeans/ Colonisers, loosely translating to outsider.

Saab: Sir

Maharaja: King

Gajra: A traditional weave of scented flowers used as hair accessory by women.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@madbaddic7ed @henrythickcavill @toomanyfandomsshreya @inana999 @maximumninjavoid @mistress-of-ward

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill thoughts #colonial era #india #henry cavill series #raat ki rani #thechurchofcavill #henry cavill x ofc

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ceescedasticity · 4 years

Text

Jin Guangyao’s Hoarding Problem, part 4

part 1, part 2, part 3

Jin Guangyao is having a really good week, and then suddenly he is having a really bad week.

This is mostly his father's fault. But he does feel that Madam Qin really could have chosen to share this information literally any time earlier in the courtship. Even if it was after Qin Su was pregnant, more time might have enabled him to come up with something! Even if she weren't pregnant calling off the wedding this late would be a significant scandal — what was Madam Qin thinking? Probably she wasn't thinking. No one around him ever thinks.

(He's not exactly thinking his clearest, either, but he doesn't realize that.)

He wants to get out of it. (The marriage still has its good points, if the secret can be guaranteed — but I don't think he would want a marriage which could only produce children who 'had to die'.)

(He could order Wen Qing to prepare an abortifacient, but then, he could in theory procure an abortifacient in any timeline. Honestly I wouldn't even be surprised if Madam Jin quietly keeps a stock on hand in case any of the household staff has a problem. And it seems like something Meng Yao ought to know about, doesn't it? But perhaps Meng Shi insisted he shouldn't pay attention to such filthy things, and he knows no more than most young gentlemen. Still, he could get his hands on one somehow — doing so discreetly is a challenge but not an insurmountable one. The trouble is that without Qin Su's forewarned cooperation, any termination of the pregnancy will be obviously a failed pregnancy, and marrying her is still the only honorable thing, but now with an added taint of sin for premarital sex and the shame of failing to cover it up, he can hear the remarks about his mother already.)

(He could have Qin Su non-fatally poisoned — enough to make her very sick and put off the wedding. But medical examination might reveal the pregnancy, and too long a delay definitely would.) (If he were willing to entertain the idea of telling Qin Su, this would be a good way to buy time to talk. There are so many more possibilities when she's not one of the people who has to be lied to.)

(He could have Qin Su fatally poisoned, and make sure no postmortem exam found the pregnancy, or at least that no one talked about it. But he doesn't have a scapegoat set up for a murder, and Madam Qin might suspect him.) (He also doesn't want to kill her, but that's not what deters him.)

(He could have Qin Su kidnapped, into the Dizang or elsewhere. But he doesn't have a scapegoat ready for that, either, and that still doesn't fix the pregnancy.)

(Now, if he could have her kidnapped, terminate the pregnancy, somehow alter her memory so she doesn't remember there ever was a pregnancy, somehow alter her memory so she doesn't remember the kidnapping, 'rescue' her, give the impression she's temporarily lost her wits from the experience and has probably also been ruined, well, the only compassionate thing is to cancel the wedding, cancel the engagement, send her home to her parents, terrible tragedy, maybe someday she can find happiness elsewhere. If he had a way to alter memories that quickly and precisely he might go with this despite the lack of prepared scapegoat.)

He decides the best option is to go through with the wedding and… deal with it later. Somehow.

(Highlights/"highlights" of the wedding celebrations include, but are not limited to:

It is Jiang Yanli's first major social event since her mourning period concluded. She spends most of her time trying to get Jiang Cheng to stay still long enough for her to talk to him. She's not mad at him!

Lan Xichen averts a disaster when he overhears and shuts down some speculation on whether Jiang Yanli will marry again — she'd have to come with a pretty hefty dowry, what with the health problems and so-so looks and rumored madness — before Jiang Wanyin hears any of it.

Nie Huaisang gets blackout drunk and throws up in the banquet hall, but not before laying the groundwork for five different problems with minor sects he can beg San-ge and Er-ge to help him with.

Su Minshan is totally unaware that Jin Guangyao's good week has become a terrible week and cries tears of joy at his benefactor's good fortune.

Sect Leader Yao gets tipsy and attempts to tell a bawdy story. It does not work very well.

Jin Ling is prevented from inviting himself to the banquet and throws a screaming tantrum not quite out of hearing.

Jin Guangshan comments on Qin Su's hips.

Jin Guangshan offers a minor Sect Leader's daughter jewelry to meet him in an inn in Lanling.

After both of the above incidents Madam Jin glares daggers at Jin Guangyao for some reason.

In fact Madam Jin glares daggers at Jin Guangyao the entire time.

Using the rebuilt Seal, Xue Yang sneaks into Jinlintai proper and steals an entire dessert course out of the kitchen.

On the plus side, he doesn't kill anyone and isn't spotted.

Congratulations!)

(Jiang Yanli eventually corners Jiang Cheng and tells him she isn't mad at him, and he's doing a wonderful job, and as soon as she can get the idea past the Jins she wants to take Jin Ling to Lotus Pier for at least a few months. Jiang Cheng is dubious about the first two assertions but can at least appreciate the third.)

Back in the Dizang it's been convenient that courtship and wedding preparations have occupied so much of Jin Guangyao's attention, because the preliminary results of the 'crying' research have been slightly more disruptive/strange than anticipated. It turns out that it is indeed possible to manually activate the tear glands of a fierce corpse, either by acupuncture needles or by talisman. After this, they will stream for four to six hours no matter what anyone does, which also gives them runny noses. After that, though, their eyes will water when they didn't before. When Wen Ning went through the procedure, he found that he could get tears triggered by emotions. He also discovered that crying gives him a dry mouth — the initial four-hour rain of tears gave him such a dry mouth he couldn't speak for a while.

This spun into everyone getting pulled into a study of 'how do fierce corpses regulate their moisture levels'. Water ghouls don't get waterlogged and fall to pieces. Fierce corpses in deserts don't desiccate and fall to pieces. They must regulate somehow. Missing moisture has to come from somewhere, and extra moisture has to go somewhere, and no one has ever looked into how before. It's disgusting. Xue Yang's never had so much non-homicidal fun in his life. (Well, a little homicidal, since he made the corpses, but not currently actively homicidal.)

Besides Xue Yang, all of this has been productive for Wen Qing and Wen Qing, Wei Wuxian is reluctantly fascinated, and Mo Xuanyu is non-reluctantly fascinated. He Zhi and He Jian are not having such a a good time, because all the fierce corpses besides Wen Ning are, you know, their relatives. Mo Xuanyu tries to help by suggesting Xue Yang can swap out the active experimental corpses with some that used to be whichever relatives they hated? There aren't any?! This leads to a discussion of Mo Xuanyu's maternal relatives. Xue Yang offers to kill them if the opportunity arises. Mo Xuanyu doesn't say no.

As soon as Jin Guangyao can get away for a day or two without anyone noticing — some nominal discreet inspection tour — he comes back to the Dizang and brushes off Mo Xuanyu's attempt to present his report on everything that's gone on while Jin Guangyao was busy with courtship and wedding (he doesn't want to think about courtships or weddings). He just goes and orders Wen Qing to invent a poison that can be administered either slowly or in parts, which will make the victim insane with lust and ultimately cause dramatic heart failure, preferably during sexual intercourse.

Wen Qing doesn't ask what his father did to finally push him over the edge, but it's a struggle. She does point out those are extremely specific requirements and she's not an herbalist. She will try if ordered to, but…

Hmmm. Yes. Good point. Perhaps what we want here is a curse. Yiling Laozu, design me a curse.

Wei Wuxian: What? I don't do curses, that was a false accusation—

Wei Wuxian's internal monologue: 'Mad with lust' curses exist, demons hit commoners with them all the time. I don't know the mechanics — well, I have a few ideas how it might work now that I think about it — I don't know how they work, though. A curse to kill someone the next time they have sex should be fairly straightforward, would be more straightforward if I'd gotten around to having sex, not bringing that up. No, I'm not bringing any of this up, I'm going to try to get out of helping Jin Guangyao murder someone. Even if it is probably his father, who deserves it. No. Besides, getting any of this to work on someone with high cultivation would be a challenge— PROBLEM! Would be a problem.

Jin Guangyao leaves him to think about that — for now — and goes down to the cell in the subbasement to (a) look at practically-a-puppet Nie Mingjue and feel smug about his own triumph and superiority, and (b) fantasize about using Nie Mingjue to kill Jin Guangshan.

He sends a message to Qin Su saying he's been injured, but please don't tell anyone, he doesn't want to show weakness. When he gets back, he claims the injury rendered him incapable of sex — but she can't tell anyone, she can't, he'll be ruined. Qin Su is dismayed, but vows she will keep the secret and considers him no less her husband for not being able to fulfill that duty. And at least they have the one child on the way! What a blessing.

Yes. A blessing.

(Qin Su keeps her word and doesn't tell anyone about the 'injury'. She does tell Jiang Yanli, in confidence, that her marriage isn't quite turning out as she expected it to.)

(Meanwhile Madam Jin has nothing against Qin Su personally, but is very determined that everyone remember Jin Guangyao's wife is not on the same level as other Madams Jin. Jiang Yanli does her best to mitigate it, but she still isn't taken as seriously as she should be. When it becomes known Qin Su is pregnant Madam Jin's attitude sours further.)

(Jiang Yanli is privately of the opinion that Qin Su is welcome to be preeminent Madam Jin; she just wants to go back to Yunmeng for good and have A-Ling adopted as a Jiang. Sadly that definitely won't happen unless Jin Guangshan and Madam Jin are both dead.) (Not that she'd be so unfilial as to hope for that.) (Much.)

(Madam Qin dies, somewhere in here. Jin Guangyao is nothing but relieved.) (Did he have something to do with it, besides causing distress by going ahead with the marriage? We may never know.)

Jin Guangyao introduces He Lei to Qin Su, although obviously not under that name. A-Lei is the mute half-wit sister of a loyal servant of his, he says; the man is often away on business so Jin Guangyao promised to find his sister safe and honorable employment — a touching story.

Qin Su promises to be kind to poor half-wit mute A-Lei, and is very patient with her inexperience as a lady's maid and shy nervousness.

Madam Jin not so much. Despite Qin Su's poor taste in husbands, she is still a gentlewoman and deserves better servants than a mangy stray that son of a prostitute brought in, probably out of a brothel.

Jiang Yanli has to try to mitigate this, too. She also makes a few suggestions about ways A-Lei could communicate without speaking — pointing to pictures, perhaps? Hand gestures? Pantomime isn't very dignified, but they ought to let A-Lei express herself…

He Lei runs away from any such suggestions. She's not willing to 'speak' when Jin Guangyao doesn't want her to and jeopardize her siblings.

Jiang Yanli is disappointed, but respects her shyness.

(Nie Huaisang is not going to respect her shyness, especially when he's mostly sure he's seen her among Jinlintai's servants some time before her official appearance, but for the moment he's biding his time.)

He Lei goes to extreme lengths to avoid Jin Guangshan.

Meanwhile Xue Yang hears that Wen Qing is going to see if she can do anything for Wen Ning's sense of taste, next, and "helps" by providing a half-dozen fresh tongues for her to dissect.

(Wei Wuxian's internal monologue: —just mathematically there have to be at least a few resentful ghosts who have it out for Jin Guangshan with sex-related grievances. Now if you could both locate them, and then use their motivation to direct enough other ghosts to overcome Jin Guangshan's level of cultivation… Well, I could, if I had Chenqing and the Seal. Not sure how you'd package it as a curse— Not that I'm trying to package it as a curse this is idle speculation!)

#jgy's hoarding problem tellfic #more random mdzs thoughts

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lesbianlotties · 4 years

Text

Andromaquynh’s Story - songs

(an incomplete list of my personal favorite songs/lyrics that make me think of the immortal wives. they come with sort of very specific context for each one.)

One night, one death. Hundreds of nights, thousands of dreams. Neither of them knows, at the beginning, what the dreams mean. Soon enough though, the dreams turn into hope, into a firm belief in each other’s existence. The dreams turn into love before they even look at each other’s eyes. The dreams are everything, and the best part is that they offer the possibility of something more. aka a hundred years of yearning:

When you sleep - mary lambert

I could make you happy / I could make you love me / I could disappear completely / I could be your love song / I could be long gone / I could be a ghost in your eardrum / When you sleep, will it be with me?

I swore I saw you in a dream / All dressed in white and wide smile

How did I miss you, when I didn't know you? / How did I miss you, when I didn't know you? / How did I miss you, when I didn't know you?

Quynh had giving up. She had given up entirely and she was determined not to walk out of that desert alive. Then... Andromache. The dreams were real, the dreams were standing right in front of her in the shape of the most strikingly beautiful warrior. Suddenly nothing else mattered but their future together. Their future was sweet, like Andy’s favorite pastries that Quynh adoringly watched her enjoy. The future was endless. Because as long as they had each other to come back to, death wasn’t strong enough to take them:

Work song - hozier

And I was burning up a fever / I didn't care much how long I lived / But I swear, I thought I dreamed her / She never asked me once about the wrong I did

There's nothin' sweeter than my baby / I'd never want once from the cherry tree / 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be / She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

When, my, time comes around / Lay me gently in the cold dark earth / No grave can hold my body down / I'll crawl home to her

Then there’s Andy. Thousands of years of solitude turn to nothing the second that Quynh’s eyes meet hers. For the first time Andy allows herself to feel hope, to love and be loved without the fear of loss. In Quynh’s smile she finds purpose, joy, and everything she could ever need for eternity:

The last of the real ones - fall out boy

I was just an only child of the universe / And then I found you, and then I found you / You are the sun and I am just the planets / Spinning around you

I will shield you from the waves if they find you / I will protect you, I will protect you

I'm here, at the beginning of the end / Oh, the end of infinity with you

I'm done with having dreams, the thing that I believe / You drain the fear from me

Fear the future - st. vincent

When the Earth split in two / I was I, you were you / I run for you, run for me, too / When the wall rose and fell / And the oceans all swell / I run for you, run for me, too

Cosmonauts - fiona apple

When I met you, I was fine with my nothing / I grew with you and now I've changed / What I've become is something I can't be without your loving / Be good to me, it isn't a game

Now let me see, it's you and me, forgive, good God / How do you suppose that we'll survive?

When you resist me, hon', I cease to exist / Because I only like the way I look when looking through your eyes

There was a time when she was worshipped as a God. And, afterward, there was no way Andy believed in the gods that humans make up every now and then. That is, until the first day she gets to hold Quynh in her arms. The eyes that can render her helpless and down to her knees. The smile that makes her feel alive yet the only thing that could kill her. The skin that’s soft, that’s on fire, that’s the only truly holy place where Andy has found herself lost in. aka homoerotic religious imagery for the immortal wives:

Take me to church - hozier

She tells me "Worship in the bedroom" / The only Heaven I'll be sent to / Is when I'm alone with you

If I'm a pagan of the good times / My lover's the sunlight / To keep the goddess on my side / She demands a sacrifice / Drain the whole sea

Holy - zolita

Worship your body as you walk my way / You're the only one who can make me pray / I fall at your feet, your breath's divine / And underneath my skin's an intrinsic shrine

I'll give my soul, sacrifice me / Cause your love is holy

I'd rather drown in your ocean / Than wither on the shore / Undying devotion, feel you in my core / Veneration, this faith's got me high / Nothing without you, live for you till I die

Church - fall out boy

Time capsule for the future / Trust me, that's what I will be / Oh, the things that you do in the / Name of what you love / You are doomed but just enough

If you were church, I'd get on my knees / Confess my love, I'd know where to be / My sanctuary, you're holy to me

The witches trials. Is there anything more to say? They go in feeling invincible. Partially for their immortality, mostly because they are together. They face death while holding hands and with smiles on their faces as they’ve always had. How could they have predicted what came next?:

Which witch - florence and the machine

And it's my own heart / While tried and tested, it's mine / And it's my own heart / Trying to reach it out / And it's my own heart / Burned but not buried this time / I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out / I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out

The bottom of the ocean is cold, it is dark, the pressure is unbearable and the pain unending. If Quynh has any time to think, before dying again, it might spent blaming Andy, missing Andy, hating Andy, loving Andy, with just enough time to curse the ocean around her. aka Quynh making the most of the water/drowning theme:

What the water gave me - florence and the machine

Time it took us / To where the water was / That’s what the water gave me / And time goes quicker / Between the two of us / But oh, my love, don’t forsake me / Take what the water gave me

Hold my breath until I die - tegan and sara

Late at night, when your words are eating me alive / Does it make you sad to leave me here like that? / In my dreams, the blood runs from my eyes / If I fall, will you catch me in your arms?

If I hold my breath until I die, I’ll be alright

Pool - paramore

I’m underwater / No air in my lungs / My eyes are open / I’m done giving up / You are the wave / I could never tame / If I survive / I’ll dive back in

Dying over and over again, Quynh comes out of the ocean with a certain... clarity. Hubris, she says is their sin. They’ve never claimed to be angels, but they’ve refused to be devils, which she says they are. She may or may not believe that their real purpose is to make humans suffer. If Andromache won’t listen, she’ll have to show her what it all means. aka Quynh coming out of the ocean to shame mankind, or just Andy:

Just one yesterday - fall out boy ft. foxes

I know I’m bad news / I saved it all for you

If I spilled my guts / The world would never look at you the same way / And now I’m here to give you all of my love / So I can watch your face as I take it all away.

Five hundred years ago, Andy lost the love of her life. But she meant it when she said she lost a soldier. She was a leader, she should have been the one to face Quynh’s fate. The least she could have done was find her soon, and she failed there too. Now, if Quynh has come back full of rage, furious and thirsty for revenge, Andy is willing to accept it with open arms. She believes she deserves it:

I don’t smoke - mitski

Being with you / makes the flame burn good

So if you need to be mean / be mean to me. / I can take it and put it inside of me. / If you’re hands need to break / more than trinkets in your room / you can lean on my arm / as you break my heart.

Quynh, having escaped her underwater prison, is completely overcome with conflicting emotions. She finds Andy broken, guilty, still wearing her necklace and crying for her. But wasn’t she the one that broke their promise, stopped looking for her, gave up? Quynh, dealing with an unmeasurable and overwhelming mixture of hurt, heartbreak, love, rage, love... love and all the pain that comes with it, and how it all might lead them to a final fight with each other from which both of them can’t come out alive:

My tears ricochet - taylor swift

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe / All the hell you gave me? / 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you / 'Til my dying day

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace / And you're the hero flying around, saving face / And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake / Cursing my name, wishing I stayed / Look at how my tears ricochet

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you / But what a ghostly scene / You wear the same jewels that I gave you / As you bury me

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood / But you would still miss me in your bones

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

You turned into your worst fears / And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain / Crossing out the good years

Then, of course, there’s Andy’s side of the story. Andy, did she ever really give up? Didn’t she pray to all the gods she’s outlived? Didn’t she protect that necklace more than her own life, even now that she’s mortal? She’d be ready to offer Quynh anything, everything she wanted for a little forgiveness, for a small moment just to love each other. In the end, will it all depend on the strength of their eternal love for each other?:

Old wounds - pvris

They say don't open old wounds / But you're still brand new

I've got nothing left to lose besides you / I've already lost you once, what more could you do?

I think I could love you 'til the day that you die / If you let me love you when the timing is right / And if they said I had to, I swear I'd wait my whole life / I think I could love you 'til the day that you die

#basically i made this for myself but i need to share it or i'll die so hello !! please validate me #the old guard #andy x quynh #andromaquynh #immortal wives #andromache the scythian #quynh #tog andy #tog quynh #tog #the old guard meta #is it? i never know #the old guard movie #andy and quynh #my post #andromaquynh songs #yes one of this was just to include the title of one of my fics

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