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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 2 years

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Being a vampire and discovering Nandor is your ancestor would involve PART 2:

🦇It’s been a few months since you’ve moved in with the Staten Island vampires (and Guillermo) and your life has settled in a comfortable routine; you’ve become good friends with them all… and you and Nandor have become inseparable.

🦇 The two of you are thick as thieves. You hunt together, and visit the city together; you had never been to the United States before, and Nandor is all too happy to act as your guide… even though there are so many things about American culture he doesn’t understand himself (like the Superb Owl…). You pass whole nights wandering the streets and talking, even touching subjects you wouldn’t normally feel comfortable discussing.

🦇 You tell him about your life as a wanderer, of the home you left, and of how you’ve been turned, at the end of a traumatic assault that still haunts you, even though you love being a vampire; you tell him about your clan, the friends who took care of you, taught you what it meant to be a vampire, and who you were unable to help when they were attacked by hunters. Nandor, in turn, feels able to be at his most vulnerable with you, to confess his sense of loneliness, the desire to have someone close, and the feeling that there’s no-one in the world who really cares about him.

🦇 You’re very sorry to hear that, since Nandor is clearly a great guy - a powerful and ancient vampire, and a good person, who cares for you and who you feel closer to by the day; you’re really happy to have met him, and you hope you’ll keep being good friends forever.

🦇One night, while you’re all together, almost by chance, you mention your real name, and Guillermo almost jumps on his seat. “I thought you were called (name)” he says, using the name you’ve introduced yourself to them all with. “Well, my parents named me (birth name), but I never liked it, so ever since I ran away from home I have called myself (name). It’s the only name that I have used for a long time, I had almost forgotten the other one. Why?” you ask in return, surprised by his interest.

🦇Guillermo doesn’t answer, but he looks at you intensely, like he’s looking for something on your face; then he looks at Nandor, and he excuses himself from the room. Two minutes later he’s back with a folder, that Nandor recognizes as the one containing the results of his DNA test.

🦇“Your given name is (birth name and surname)? You were born on the (date) at (place)? Your parents were (name) and (name)?” he asks, reading from the folder and leaving you open-mouthed. “How do you know that?!” you ask, and Guillermo shows you one of the documents: it’s Nandor’s genealogical tree, since the times of Al-Quolanudar to the 21th century.

🦇 And sure enough, your birth name is in it, as well as those of your parents and grandparents. Which can only mean one thing...

🦇 “We are related”. It’s Nandor who says it; he moved next to you, looking at the sheet of paper with both of your names, separated by more than six hundred years and thirty-two generations, his voice heavy with emotion “We are members of the same family. You are… my descendant, and I am your great-great-great… grandfather”.

🦇 It’s such an unexpected turn of events that it takes you a while event just to understand what you feel and think. Family is a word that has long lost any meaning, as far as you’re concerned; you ran away from home when you were just a teenager, and now, more that a century later, you barely remember the names of your parents, their faces, a few vague memories from your childhood. You’re pretty sure you loved them, but the only pace you’ve ever felt at home with was your clan, the vampires who took you in after twenty years of wandering and who you have lost forever. You thought you would never have another community, another home, and you were just starting to hope the Staten Island vampires could be it… and now this. A familiar relationship, by blood and genetic, with a man you’ve kind of felt kinship with since the moment you saw him...

🦇 In the end, you burst into tears, the raw emotion that has filled you up too intense to control it; the others look at each other, unsure of how to react, and then Guillermo’s silently signs to Laszlo and Nadja to leave you alone.

🦇 Nandor is unable to move, anxious to comfort you but not knowing how; he looks at you, and wonders how he never suspected a thing, it is so evident! You have his nose -you really don’t- you like the same things -you don’t, but at the same time your tastes are not so wildly different that you don’t enjoy spending time together- and you get along so well! He’s overjoyed to discover you are part of him… and a little intimidated; you’re such a bright, young vampire full of un-life, how can you descend from an old, lumbering idiot like him? No wonder the revelation of your relationship made you cry!

🦇 “Listen, I know this doesn’t make you happy… to be part of my offspring is not something to be proud of…” he begins uncertainly, and those words manage to shake you out of the state of shock you’ve fallen into. “I am happy!” you exclaim “Happy and proud; if anything, you should be the disappointed one. You were a famed prince and a powerful warrior, I was a high-school drop-out who used to work at a gas station and has never done anything important with both of their life”

🦇 “That doesn’t matter. You are an exceptional person, (name), and… I would be proud to call you part of my family”. “The honor would be mine, Nandor; to be honest, it doesn’t change much from what I feel now”.

🦇 There’s no need for long talks or promises; from that moment both consider the other as family, and your already close relationship becomes even more affectionate. You are really inseparable, and each thinks the world of the other.

🦇 Personally, the idea of descending of a vampire like Nandor fills you with pride! You ask him about Al-Quolanudar, a place you hadn’t even heard of before you met him, and which in a way is your country of origin, and he’s happy to entertain you with stories about his family, the wars he fought and much more. He tells you about “John”, and how much he still misses him, and about Madelaine and his children.

🦇 You ask him about your great-great-great… grandmother, whose name you found on the DNA results. “She was my twenty-first wife, and I loved her very much. Not the most beautiful among them, but she had a lovely smile, just like you. She made a mean khoresh”

🦇 Nandor is incredibly protective of you, insisting you steer clear of vampires he doesn’t trust, like Simon the Devious (who actually meets you once and attempts to recruit you in his crew). He knows you have already been threatened by vampire hunters, and to keep you from danger he forbids you from going out by yourself or even to hang out with people he hasn’t met and approved.

🦇 Event though you understand he only acts in your best interest, you dislike being treated like you’re six years old and told how to live your life. You get dangerously close to fight before Guillermo talks some sense into both; he convinces Nandor to respect your right for autonomy and you to have some regard for his protective instinct.

🦇 The truth is, having you close has awoken something Nandor thought he had forgotten, a sense of fierce protectiveness stemming from the fear that something terrible may happen to you while he’s not there to protect you. It’s not like he thinks you can’t take care of yourself; but now that you’re part of his life, he’s ready to protect you from any danger, even sacrificing himself. You understand this, and you’re moved, because you feel the same, and after the death of the vampires of your clan you would have never thought you would find someone else who loved you, and who you would love so much.

🦇 In the end, you rarely fight; you comfort Nandor when Nadja mocks him or his latest girlfriend breaks up with him.

🦇 Nandor was unable to be close to his children after he became a vampire, and he sees you as an unexpected, welcome opportunity to play a paternal role again; meanwhile, you don’t miss your human family anymore, but it’s nice to have someone so invested in your well-being.

🦇 Since you can’t very well tell people you’re relatives separated by thirty generations, the two of you usually introduce yourselves as father and child. The first time someone answers with “Oh, yeah, you two actually look a lot alike” he has never felt prouder, while you suddenly feel like you’ve been chopping onions.

🦇 He doesn’t own many family heirlooms from Al-Quolanudar, but for your first birthday after the discovery of your relationship he insists at gifting you a beautiful pendent with the family crest of his (well, your) family. When he sees you wearing it for the first time, he tears up a little, while you throw your arms around you and hug him close.

🦇 You have each your own coffin, but you sleep side by side, without any embarrassment, if one of the two has had a daymare or needs some comfort. You take a nice picture together, frame it, and hang it up in both of your rooms.

🦇 Nandor teaches you to fight (both hand-to-hand combat and with weapons) in the style of Al-Quolanudar, while you teach him to use a computer and a DVD player (that you stole from the house of your latest victims).

🦇 He makes Guillermo promise that he will serve and protect you, as both a familiar and a body-guard, in the event of his death; likewise, he makes you promise the same, and you accept, because you want to make Nandor happy and you like Guillermo, even though the idea of losing your ancestor fills you with dread.

🦇 You suggest to make a trip to visit some of your other relations, and Nandor, although a bit nervous since he hasn’t left Staten Island in a long time, accepts; you travel the world for a while, have a lot of fun and various misadventures, and discover that you’re not the only two vampires in the family! You even discover you are related to two members of a werewolf pack in another country, which makes Nandor nervous, while you think it’s really cool.

🦇 In the end, even though you meet various relatives around the world, your and Nandor's relationship remains the closest, and the most important; it doesn’t matter how distant the blood tie between you is, you are each other’s family, confidant and supporter. You are part of the same clan together with Laszlo, Nadja, Colin Robinson and Guillermo, but the two of you are a family, a closeness that nothing will ever break, and that has saved you both.

🦇 🦇 🦇

Thanks for reading! This is part two of three.

#What We Do in the Shadows #Nandor the Relentless #Kayvan Novak #Nandor the Relentless would involve #Nandor the Relentless x reader #Bellona's stuff

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generalobi · 3 years

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Hey. Not the original anon, but can we maybe have some more of the Obi Melida/Daan and Jango one? But this time with Jaster and other Mandos reaction to the kids?

Myles dodges the fist to his face a second too late, and the force of it sends him sprawling to the floor. Maybe he should’ve knocked.

“Oh shit.”

Standing in the doorway of the room Myles could’ve sworn was his, is Minister Kenobi in his nightclothes with his fists up.

“I am so sorry,” he says, reaching out a hand to help Myles up, “Is this a diplomatic incident?”

Myles grunts, “I think this is on me, should’ve knocked. I thought this was our room.”

Minister Kenobi sighs, “We should probably put signs up. I really am sorry, can I at least get you some ice?”

“You don’t have bacta?”

He grimaces, “Only in the hospital, and only for major procedures. Ice will help with the swelling, and it will numb the area. I can even make you tea.”

Myles supposes it would be in bad taste to say he has bacta in his room specifically for bruises. Icing injuries is… almost primitive. It’s effective, but had been brushed over during his first aid course. Still, it would be rude to refuse such gracious hospitality. Even if his host was the one who caused the injuries.

Minister Kenobi’s quarters are small for a politician. And simple. While Kenobi putters about making tea, Myles browses his shelves. For a politician of a poor Mid Rim world, he sure has a lot of books.

“Here,” Kenobi hands him a cup of tea, “I’ll get the ice, just sit there.”

He gestures at the rather nice sofa in the middle of the room, and disappears back into the kitchen. Myles obeys, as much as he wants to snoop some more. From the rather nice, very comfortable sofa, he scans the rest of the room. It’s plain, white wall occasionally interrupted by a plant or another bookshelf.

Kenobi emerges from the kitchen with a cloth in hand, “I didn’t have any ice packs, but this should help. Sorry.”

He grimaces apologetically as he presses the ice to the injury, and Myles winces as he takes over holding it in place, “It’s alright, Minister. You have a strong punch, not many people could knock me out like that. But, maybe don’t mention this to Jango? He will never let me live it down.”

“What? Being taken down by a twenty-year-old stuffy politician?” Kenobi smirks, “Don’t worry, so long as you don’t tell Daria I accidentally punched our newest ally in the face I won’t breathe a word to Prince Fett.”

Myles laughs, “Cheers to that.”

When MelidaDaan reached out for a trade deal, and ally ship, Jaster had agreed for two reasons. One, he felt he should help out a planet in the same situation as his. Two, they have building materials Mandalore needs.

It was supposed to be simple.

He’d done the basic research, read over the deal extensively and sent his son to negotiate. It should’ve been simple.

But, of course, nothing ever is.

He’s negotiating with a planet run by children. On Mandalore, children come of age at eighteen in wartime and twenty-two in peacetime. On Mandalore, leaders are adults with fully developed brains and fewer hormonal fluctuations.

There’s only one article on the children of MelidaDaan. Jaster hopes it isn’t true.

The centuries-long civil war between the Melida and the Daan has finally come to an end. My mothers parents' grandparents fled that war more than one hundred years ago. She tells me we are Daan by blood. Those words mean nothing to me. I never knew what it was to be Daan.

I do now. There is blood on my ancestor’s hands. The blood of innocents and children. I have asked people from every side of the war, none can tell me how it started. But everyone knows how it ended.

The Young were a wild card in a war that nearly destroyed their planet. Children from both sides of the war, sick of the fighting. They came together, with one goal. To end it. And they did.

I don’t know the details, the only people who could give me them are busy rebuilding a world. The Young had three leaders, only two of them survived the war. The leaders of the Melida and the Daan are dead. The factions have settled into a peace, orchestrated by children who already have eyes far too old for their young faces.

Yesterday, I met a six-year-old with battlescars. Two weeks ago, I sat with three catatonic seven-year-olds who saw death too young.

The galaxy does not know the story of these children, and they probably never will. But it deserves to be told.

The Young were just kids, and no one protected them. They threw themselves into a war with the sole goal of finding peace. They fought and starved and died for a world that gave them nothing.

I am Daan by blood, but my mother would never have disowned me for wanting peace. My mother is Daan, and she fought for me with all her soul.

I came here to find peace with my heritage, to understand the customs I learned at my mother’s feet. I will leave with the knowledge of my people’s sins and more questions than answers.

“They don’t have bacta, Jaster,” Myles looks unusually serious, “Or not nearly enough.”

Jango watches as his buir runs a hand through his hair and thinks he looks older than when they left. This place just gets more and more confusing.

“How old is Minister Kenobi?” Jaster asks, eyes fixed on something on his desk.

“Twenty.”

“Force,” Jaster breathes, “Fuck, I’d hoped…”

Jango frowns, “He’s an adult by Mandalorian war standards. And they have been at war.”

His buir shakes his head, “The war ended seven years ago. And six years ago, MelidaDaan appointed one Obi-Wan Kenobi as Minister of Education.”

#mandalore #obi wan kenobi #star wars #jangobi #ministerwan #melida/daan #Jaster Mereel #myles #jango fett #damn this took ages #i'm getting back into it sorry guys #want to see more?#prompt me!#fanfic #Star Wars fanfic #obi-wan

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thesedangeroustemptations · 3 years

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Decided to post one of my OC’s on here, so I hope y’all like her

( the devil's match ) ┊ ❛ ya know, being a dick will not make yours any bigger, so can we skip that step and get to the part where I break your neck? ❜

character name . . kyomi tausa'afia ka'uhane.

title / ring name . . ms. ka'uhane / 'the goddess of volcanoes and destruction, pele!'

meaning of names . .

kyomi: "pure and beautiful, to cleanse." named after her paternal grandmother, it was one handed down every few generations to those who seemed to shine bright with purity from birth, which was exactly what she appeared to have done. as she grew, she always had a shining glint in her eye, though many would say it's one of mischief while others see differently.

tausa'afia: " pleasant, lovable " in the first few days of her life, she didn't have a middle name as their family reserved it for when their personality began to shine through, that way they had a name that fit them that emerged later on. kyomi was a sweet and adorable baby, capturing the hearts of anyone who held or even looked at her, hence why her middle names meaning reflects just that.

ka'uhane : " soul, spirit " the surname is from her father's family line, having been derived 1500 years ago to distinguish his family's martial arts as users of spirit and soul, versus just muscle and occasional mind.

nicknames . .

" i can't believe you'd put yourself in danger like this, kyo, do you thrive on getting your head kicked in that badly? " — wakatsuki takeshi, seething, after winning her battle against saw paing but sustaining major injuries.

" pele, you'd better not fucking lose, fuck him up! " — adam dudley and cosmo imai yelling at her from the stands during her match.

" the strength of your spirit never ceases to amaze me, tausa, but remember, even the strong need to rest sometimes, and you need to realize that doesn't make you weak. rest now, get your revenge when you're healed. " — sawada keizaburo, attempting to comfort his best friend after being unsure of whether her unborn child will survive due to being forced to fight in the kengan annihilation matches despite her condition.

" you still haven't figured it out yet, 'omi? you cannot love both of us and act like it's fine and dandy. fucking pick or i'll kill him right now. " — ohma tokita confronting kyomi after finding out that she's been sharing a bed with Ichiro Nakata as well as him, ready to kill the supposed 'superman'.

age . . kyomi is is twenty years of age

gender . . she was born of the female gender.

height/weight . . she stands at 5'2'' while weighing 155lbs of pure muscle.

appearance . . " oh, but that's the irony, broken people like her are not fragile. "

kengan match records . . 46 wins, 0 loses.

physical scent . . kyomi's natural scent is one of the saltwater and sandalwood, with hints of plumeria flower.

sexual orientation . . she is bisexual, biromantic.

marital status . . currently not married.

" i can't believe your sweet-tempered father was reincarnated into that girl. she's tough as nails. "

occupation . . kengan fighter, personal body guard / assassin, head of the ka'uhane clan with the inherited abilities of her ancestors. *

personality type . . enfj-t — the protagonist.

[ positive ]

‣ motivational, inspirational; bring out the best in others

‣ very perceptive about people's thoughts and motives

‣ fun to be with - lively sense of humor, dramatic, energetic, optimistic

‣ strive for "win-win" situation

‣ loyal and committed

‣ warmly affectionate and affirming

[ negative ]

‣ tendency to be smothering and over-protective/manipulative and controlling

‣ doesn't pay enough attention to her own needs

‣ critical of opinions and attitudes which don't match her own/sometimes unaware of social appropriateness or protocol

‣ extremely sensitive to conflict, with a tendency to sweep things under the rug as an avoidance tactic/blames herself when things go wrong, and not give themselves credit when things go right

‣ her sharply defined value systems make her unbending in some areas/she may be so attuned to what is socially accepted or expected that she's unable to assess whether something is "right" or "wrong" outside of what her social circle expects

personality description . . ❛ part of her mystery is how she is calm in the storm and anxious in the quiet. ❜

‣ kyomi is a typically bright, energetic and friendly individual, radiating warmth and acceptance to all those who come in contact with her. her kindness is talked of in abundance with her people, as well as her humor that can at times have the entire tribe rolling about with laughter. exceptionally considerate of others feelings, she will often force hers down to where she no longer has to deal with them so she can focus on the tasks/needs of others at hand. despite all of this, she is a skilled warrior who’s talents outshine those who are double her age and trained every moment of the time, leading to her confidence in her abilities to border on cocky. with these abilities however, she is able to defend her tribe and grow an ever expanding bodyguard service from those she’s trained, hiring them out to the highest bidder with these skills. her intelligence is what helped her launch the idea, her mistrust and misjudgement will end up being her downfall; getting her into situations where she’s forced to be the compeditor for Omni Air International, who threatened to level her village if she didn’t comply. over her family and fellow villagers she is fiercely protective and thoughtful, willing to lay down her life if need be for them so they could continue to live in peace. aside from that, she at times can be extremely angry and resentful of the hand she had been dealt, knowing that it was beyond her control and that was what bothered her the most. in competition, she is a blood thirsty and calculating competitor, who would rather break necks than ask or answer any questions directed at her. when pushed to it, she will shut down the side that everyone knows and loves entirely, revealing a murdeous monster who would tear down anyone in her path.

likes . . relaxing in the sun, training, eating exotic and new foods, spending time with her twin children.

dislikes . . being told what to do/forced into situations where she has no control, arrogant people, disloyalty, early mornings.

skills . . healing by meditation, knive throwing, rock/ice climbing, cooking, drawing/painting, ballet, hula dance.

any flaws . . she can be very critical of others with no real cause, her jealousy is out of control, she’s got a large scar on her back, left hip and left thigh from when she was attacked by a shark at the age of 12.

personal phobias . . deep bodies of water, dark spaces, being alone,

habits . . nail biting, smoking, constantly triple checking her surroundings, self isolation when feeling vulnerable.

weapons . . seismic senescing through her hands and feet, pressure point and medical knowledge, garrote, knive throwing, judo, kenpo, jujitsu, grappling, wrestling.

family or blood relatives . . — akela ka’uhane | father, 39 years old | alive | intermediate chief along side his wife in his daughters absence/guardian of his grandchildren.

— makani ka’uhane | mother, 37 years old | alive | intermediate chieftess alongside her husband in her daughters absence/guardian of her granddaughter/healer

— noe olina ka’uhane | daughter, 3 years old | alive | living with her grandparents while her mother is away, training in meditation and energy control with her grandfather.

—- kanoa haikili ka’uhane | son, 3 years old | alive | living with his grandparents while his mother is away, training in meditation and energy control with his grandfather.

affiliated company / empoleeyer . . omni air international

friends . . — miyuki dotokayashi | best friend | alive | daughter of naga dotokayashi, ceo of Omni air international

— sawada keizaburo | best friend/unofficial bodyguard & uncle to her children | alive | kengan fighter/employed by murder music.

— wakatsuki takashi | best friend/father figure | alive | kengan fighter/empoyed by furumi pharmaceuticals.

— saw paing yoroizuka | close friend | alive | kengan fighter/employed by village of the dawn.

— adam dudley | close friend | alive | kengan fighter/employed by boss burger.

— imai cosmo | close friend/brother figure | alive | kengan fighter / employed by nishihonji security services.

— okubo naoya | close friend/ex-lover | alive | kengan fighter.

— himuro ryo | close friend | alive | kengan fighter.

— kaneda suekichi | close friend | alive | kengan fighter.

— gaolang wongsawat | close friend | alive | kengan fighter.

romantic interest(s) . . ohma tokita & ichiro 'lihito' nakata — ❛ you’re selfish, is what you are. making us both love you and then refusing to choose, what the fuck is your game? ❜

— ohma 'the ashura' tokita : my, oh my. the relationship between ohma and kyomi began when they first encountered each other during her first trip to japan 2 years prior, representing Omni Air International and winning 27 consecutive matches before the annihilation tournament took place. they met in a coffee shop, he decided to stop in and devour whatever pastries they had on display for the day, and due to his large, intimidating frame, most people were afraid of him and kept his distance; not kyomi. she found his seemingly brooding and potentially aggressive nature comical in contrast to the sweet treats he was eating, so she being the outgoing individual she was, went up to him and asked him how the desserts tasted now that he'd robbed everyone else of the chance. her boldness and confidence in the way she carried herself was enough to catch his attention and intrigue, so he invited her to sit with him and try the remains of what he hadn't inhaled just yet. it was in that sit down, taste testing the different assortments that laid in front of them, that a bond was formed and only grew with the more time they spent together, finding more commonalities than initially suspected. as close as they got, there was still a wall put up between the two of them, set up unintentionally by both parties to refrain from either getting hurt. this didn't stop jealousy and possessiveness to overwhelm the 'relationship' that they had developed, resulting in it's momentary end in an explosive way. now, two months later, they met once again at the kengan annihilation tournament representing their respective companies, which was a shock to them both, especially on her end. the greatest shock for ohma was when the new 'superhuman' he had been introduced to a little while prior to this, was now following around his woman like a puppy, only sparking the killer instinct within him that lie just beneath the surface. that, and the hickies and love marks that covered her body in the most obvious and infuriating places. now aggressive and hostile toward the woman who somehow held a vice grip on his heart, he couldn't help but blame himself at the same time for allowing her to slip through his fingers, however he will be damned if he lets 'lihito' steal what's his. with kyomi seeming to decide that she was fine with loving the both of them, fucking the both of the, that was when he snapped and would become a much more outwardly angry person than his usual calm demeanor, lashing out at any person who happened to make the wrong comment in his presence. despite his feelings of rage and hostility toward the situation, he couldn't help the fact that he loved her, and he would continue to love her even if he hated the choices that she was making, and the fact that even though he knew her for two years time now, it still felt as though she was hiding a part of herself from him, which was frustrating for the fighter, because in their long nights together, he had spilled his guts to her, given her every part of him, and he was met with this.

— ichiro ‘lihito’ nakata : meeting this goddess was a complete accident, one that ichiro was more grateful for than he cared to admit out loud- scratch that, he'd happily yell it from whatever roof top she requested. having met after he was observing his competition for the next few matches, he quickly took notice of the seemingly unbeatable 'pele', swiftly deciding two things: that she would soon be his, and he did not want to fight her in any upcoming matches, because he knew he would get his ass handed to him, and that wasn't something the self proclaimed superhuman could afford to his ego or image. after she mopped the floor with her opponent, he approached her and asked if she would like to get something to eat, explaining he knew just how strenuous and appetite increasing these matches could be, it didn't take much pressure to get her to agree. the two went to an authentic japanese ramen shop, as she had never been before and had only been in japan for a few days, which was mostly spent fighting or training, this being the first time she actually had a moment to herself to breath. they ate bowl after bowl, stacking the piles high as they could go before ichiro realized that this woman had not only stolen his heart, but emptied his wallet as well, not that he minded. her smile and full belly was all he cared about at that moment. over the next few months, the two became closer and closer, though there was weeks where she would pull away and disappear, for reasons he did not know of; come to find out much later, she was spending the other parts of her time with the infamous ohma tokita, his self decided rival in the kengan matches. this discovery once they had arrived at the tournament only fueled ichiro's rage and desire to win, to prove that he was the better man, the stronger man, the one for her. though the two decided amongst themselves that they would compete for her heart, they were infuriated to see that she decided that it was fine to simply love them both, which wouldn't have been too terrible for him if it wasn't for the fact that ohma made it abundantly clear that he wasn't okay with that, and would repeatedly threaten ichiro's life, which was met with the response of 'try it' every single time. the relationship that they have is a rather lax and easy going one, though at times he can be a bit smothering and over-protective, that's only because he doesn't want to lose out on what he sees as his one chance at happiness.

backstory . . kyomi was born the only child to a long line of renowned martial artists, one that had developed it's own style that included many aspects that weren't included in the traditional way of teaching. over 1500 years ago, her ancestors figured out how to manipulate matter and atoms, giving them partial manipulation over their surroundings as well as a physical power up. they also figured out the ability to heal themselves faster through the power of meditation, which came in handy for those who chose to be warriors, such as kyo. the longer the line, the more ancestors that could be called upon for assistance in a fight, using their knowledge and own distinct styles of fighting, the stronger the power up, making kyomi at the time, the strongest ever of her line, surpassing that of her past life and previous tribal chief by what seemed like miles. from a young age, she displayed strong discipline and technique, mastering things thrown at her within a few days time and leaving her teachers in absolute awe, as well as her parents, though they also beamed with happiness. the ancestral spirit didn't manifest in every generation, it only happened when the current host dies, so it can be passed to the new one, which so happened to be a feisty, strong-willed and opinionated young woman who was more than willing to kill for her goals and those she cares for. at the age of 16, she made the mistake of getting too attached to a tourist visiting one of the vacation spots on the main parts of her island, resulting in her losing her virginity and discovering she was pregnant a few months later. with the support of her family and village, she had her children and would not have been able to handle it without the backing that she had. as chieftess in training, her father and mother handled most things for her while she focused on her own children, but also growing up still given she had them so young. it was during this time that it became apparent that she was suffering from post-partum-rage, which was honed and harnessed into a deadly weapon to add precision and greater force behind her strikes. at the age of 18, she was brought to omni air international headquarters by her best friend, being told that her father wanted someone strong to represent his company in what was known as the kengan matches in japan. this didn't appeal to her too much, initially she refused, but when her home and tribe were threatened with extinction, her own children who were innocent, she had no choice but to comply. her best friend had no knowledge of this, and was unable to stop her father from forcing her companions hand, but it was no use, he would not budge on his decision. she was the strongest by far that he had come across, and he wouldn't let her slip through his fingers when he had the power to bend her to his will, no matter the rage and resentment he was building within his fighter. after saying her goodbyes to her one and a half year olds, her parents and her village, she set off to japan, where she found it hard to adjust to the culture and the language, resulting in many fights and brawls due to misunderstandings. it was during this time that she met several people who would become close friends and mentors to her, the relationships forming due to their close proximity from the kengan matches, as they were all participants in some way or another. the romantic relationships she did not plan for, and being the privileged person that she was, assumed that she would just be able to have both of the people who had captured her heart, not taking their feelings into consideration whatsoever. this was a result of no one taking hers into consideration for bringing her there in the first place, forcing her to fight for the lives of her people and not being allowed to lose no matter what. she cared very little for what people viewed as 'fair', even if she did love them.

extra . . — kyomi is ambidextrous, though the punches from her left hand hurt far more than the ones from her right, she believes most of her past lives were prodominantly left handed, which she finds awesome as hell.

— even after two years, the people closest to her, aside from sawada and wakatsuki, known nothing about her life back in hawaii, which is something that she prefers to keep due to her not knowing who she can truly trust anymore.

— though both ohma tokita and ichiro nakata have perminent places in her heart, if she was forced to choose, she would have to drop them both because she couldn't bear hurting one by choosing the other

— sawada interestingly enough knew kyomi before she came to japan, having met her a few times when he and his employer made trips to hawaii to open new stores there for murder music, as he was her body guard as well as fighter. the two clicked while she was pregnant, he was very kind and thoughtful when interacting with her, never once judged her and was there when her twins were born. he's a brother that she never had, acting as her protector and best friend all at the same time; the relationship she has with lihito makes him sick to his stomach but it's her life, and he refuses to say anything for fear of getting his face kicked in.

— she and raian have an unspoken rivalry, due to them both having destructive power, and her being referred to as 'the devil's match'. kyomi finds his blood lust entertaining and would love to fight him, him feeling the same with her, but having a bordering obsession with her as well, having to keep constant tabs on her and be aware of where she is at all times, something he does his best to keep hidden from everyone, including those in the kure clan. If anyone is going to beat her for good it would be him.

#kengan ashura #kengan omega #kenganverse

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magaprima · 3 years

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Okay, maybe it’s my knowledge of history, maybe it’s the fact I did studies years ago into human trafficking where similar instances happened, maybe it’s knowing people in my family’s countries have had to do similar things throughout history, maybe it’s the fact I remember my lit tutor saying ‘how a person reacts to a fictional character’s plight is revealing of how they would behave in reality’, but I am getting so fed up of people condemning Lilith for what happened to Adam, or worse, mocking and belittling it like ‘omg she straight up murdered her kid lmao wtf’ which was actually a real comment I just fucking deleted off a GIF set I made. See, this is why I’m seeing these idiots, because they feel the need to comment on a GIF they’re NOT EVEN REBLOGGING. But whatever, I digress. My point of this post is:

LILITH DID NOT MURDER ADAM. SHE DID NOT KILL HIM IN PETTY REVENGE. SHE DID A HEARTBREAKING THING THAT MADE HER WANT TO DIE WHEN IT WAS DONE IN ORDER TO SAVE HIM FROM THE HORRENDOUS CRUELTY AND ABUSE SHE HAD SUFFERED FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS. And this is without the added consideration that the trauma of such a painful, unnatural birth and post-natal exhaustion and other hormone/chemical issues would have effected decision making and problem processing.

Okay, so listen; mothers killing their children to spare them from horrors is not an invented concept. It is horrendously true and has happened throughout history. Primarily, to stop their children being taken into slavery, being raped by invaders, saved from sex rings or taken for whatever miscellaneous yet horrendous situation they’re in, which has included abusive fathers. I am speaking as someone who is Irish, where Cromwell swept the land throwing children into slavery (my great-great-so-on Uncle was a child who was taken, but he survived, and we have relatives out in the Caribbean due to this, which is also how a great-great.great-grandparent met his wife. But again, I digress) and knows there were instances where those, unable to hide their children, killed them rather than submit them to the absolute horrors Cromwell’s men were inflicting (they raped a lot of women, murdered the men, raped and/or stole the children. Whole villages were decimated) and as someone with Mexican grandparents and knows how ancestors were treated so violently and cruelly by invaders that killing children to spare them was by no means an uncommon reaction (and an entirely understandable one).

The most famous incident of this happening, possibly because she was already a slave and therefore considered ‘property’ rather than an unnamed native person being dragged from their home, and it was recent enough for official news reports, was Margaret Garner. She was a runaway slave, and, when surrounded by slavers to take her back, she cut the throat of her 2 year old daughter, and planned to kill her other three children and then herself, but the slavers got to her first. They then told her she was property and not a mother at all, and they weren’t her children, but the slaver’s property and therefore she’d damaged property. The horror of that story is undeniable and Margaret’s actions undeniably understandable and cry for sympathy and empathy....and YET, there are still people who condemn her today. Really. So it shouldn’t surprise me there are people condemning a woman in a fictional story too.

More recently, there have been cases/stories coming forward of human trafficking victims, getting pregnant through no fault of their own, and, knowing the child would be trafficked too, have smothered them in their sleep before they could be taken.

Lilith is an abuse victim. Severely abused. She is treated as a slave, Lucifer even says ‘you belong to me and only me’ considering her to be his property, ‘Lilith knows her place; to serve’, ‘there is no escape to Tibet or anywhere else’. Lilith, really, in part 1 and half of part 2 has fucking Stockholm Syndrome; she has no reason to be loyal to Lucifer, we see how afraid she is of him, yet she sticks by him and is grateful for the scraps of approval he gives her. She has suffered so much abuse for thousands of years and lived through it that she had been entirely mentally conditioned by it. It took a huge amount of inner strength, and developing relationships with others (namely Sabrina and Adam 2.0, but also the likes of Theo Putnam, Mrs Meeks) for her to break free of that mindset.

But Lucifer is her abuser. There are countless instances of where we see her absolute terror; look how she begs for mercy after Sabrina’s failed Dark Baptism, how she flinches and covers her face when he comes near her, think of the terror in her eyes when he says ‘and you know what I’m like when I’m bored’, think of her sickening fear in part 3 when she realises the Dark Lord is free, how full of panic and fear she is trying to find out where he’s hiding, of how she desperately tries to hide at fucking Mary’s to get away from him, how she’s dragged out by her hair, think of the fear she has on her face when she chooses to face him and watch the horror on her face as she realises what he’ll do to Adam, and look at the fear and broken spirit of her when she realises she can’t stop him.

Lucifer has abused Lilith for millennia and convinced her that it was love that he was ‘lifting her up’ and ‘making her worthy’, classic abuser language. He even used her own freaking familiar against her. She was treated as property, treated however he chose in that particular moment, and by her own claim she’s done ‘unspeakable things’ to help him, believing she loved him. THOUSANDS of years of abuse and she’s only recently broken free of that, before she’s forced back into his arms, metaphorically-speaking. She is now, however, aware it’s abuse, and she knows what she’s suffered, and how cruel he is, and how he made her into something else, how he used that abuse and cruelty to mould her into what he wanted (think how differently she behaves when she’s his ‘loyal servant’ to how she behaves when she’s free from him and independent. We see a very different Lilith). She knows what Adam will suffer, because she’s suffered it herself. When Lucifer says he’ll suckle on a hell hound and ‘toughen him up and all that’, the expression on Lilith’s face is heartbreaking; she knows exactly what he means by toughen him up. It’s the same as ‘make you worthy’. And the thought of her son going through everything she went through, and then constantly having to fight for his life, fighting against Caliban or Caliban’s children, suffering everything Lilith has, but never having known anything else, never having anyone who loves him truly, no one who could help him escape...it fills Lilith with fear.

And, she’s seen the Dark Lord get his way over and over again. She’s seen how even Sabrina accepts him as her Father now. She knows the Aunts offered to protect her, but even Hilda is only suggesting they leave, like they can’t actually physically fight him, only do their best to keep Lilith safe. And Lilith knows he’ll find her eventually; her experiences and her severe abuse mean she sees it as inevitable, because she’s ‘learned’ it’s inevitable. Lilith cannot see a possible way to keep baby Adam safe. She knows the only way she can protect him from the Dark Lord is to kill him, and destroy the body (or devour the body, however you wish to interpret the bloody scene) so he can’t resurrect him after he’s killed her. Because, yes, Lilith intends to die. Like Margaret Garner, her plan was to die WITH her child, but she was stopped. Lucifer knew that was her intent, that that was what she wanted (she does openly beg him to kill her) and that is exactly why he makes her immortal, so she can never be with her son, but by cursing her with humanity-- to age and rot etc-- he’s making sure she will only get weaker and not have the power to get back her son by any means.

Lilith continues to try to join her son throughout the next episode, to the point of getting a hold of the only blade that can kill an immortal, and it’s only when Marie gives her her son’s spirit, placing it in something solid, meaning-- with magic-- Lilith does have a chance to bring her son back, that instead of wanting to die, she decides to destroy Lucifer instead, as she has nothing to lose. Either, she destroys Lucifer and takes all her power back and gets her son back, or she fails and she dies. She essentially becomes a woman with nothing to lose, and they’re the most dangerous people, because there’s nothing to make them hesitate. As Lucifer learned in a very hard way.

#this was essentially a frustrated rant #but it's also #random thoughts #observations #and #headcanons #it's all the things #i don't normally do tw but this is quite in depth so #tw suicide #tw abuse #tw rape

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marsalimackimmie · 3 years

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Another Outlander Fic Idea

This is set in an AU where Jamie came through the stones to the 20th century soon after Claire returned, and they raised Brianna in the future together.

(I wrote this whole thing out at once and didn’t proof read it so please forgive any typos. It’s a mostly stream of consciousness outline.)

Bree always knew there was something different about her family-- in that they had none. All her friends had grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins… but the Fraser's were an orphaned family. Her Mama and Da had plenty of stories, but always said the people they discussed had died a long time ago. As a kid it made her sad in a detached sort of way, but as she grew older she began having more questions her parents couldn’t answer.

Growing up, Bree had developed an interest in history with her father. He was always reading books, watching documentaries, and always seemed fascinated by everything he learned-- even the things everyone knew, and the things he supposedly lived through himself. It became something they bonded over, and it led Bree to her secret hobby of genealogy.

Unbeknownst to her parents, Brianna one day organized a day trip with her friends up to Broch Morda, the place her parents always claimed Jamie was from. She searched their historical archives and church records, but could find no mention of Jenny, Brian, or Ellen Fraser born in the last few centuries. At one point a librarian said she HAD found people by those names, but perhaps it was a more distant ancestor(?) as they were all from the 18th century.

With this being the only lead Bree had, she dug all in. Every detail that matched up with her parents’ stories (as few details as there were) made her confusion increase. Her first thought was “oh no, my parents are crazy”. Clearly, Jamie had become so lonely as an orphan that he constructed an entire backstory based on the lives of people who shared his last name 200 years ago, who he found through his weird fascination with history. Or was James Fraser even his real name? Oh god, is Fraser even HER real last name?

Freaked out, Bree decides to visit Broch Tuarach’s graveyard to make sure there weren’t just typos or mistakes in the records (it’s not like they’re very valuable or well preserved). The newest graves are full of Murray's, McTavishes, Mackenzies… wow a lot of M’s for a place built by the Fraser clan. She pushes through and finds many faded graves from the early 1800s… quite a few match the names from her supposed family history as well. Brianna is now certain her parents have been lying to her this whole time.

Roger, one of the friends Bree came to Broch Morda with, suggests that maybe they should try some archives in the larger Inverness instead, that maybe this whole Lallybroch business is just a weird coincidence, or a matter of family names repeating themselves. It’s not like Jenny and Ian are uncommon, after all, or James and Katherine for that matter. Brianna is skeptical but agrees.

Back in Inverness, they dig through the library and find articles about Claire’s disappearance through the stones. Surprised, Brianna does the math and realizes her parents must have met when Claire ran away from this ‘Frank Randall’. The lies piling up, Brianna decides to call Frank and ask for any information he has. Frank is reluctant to speak to her when she ambushes him at his office, and she leaves.

Later she returns late at night hoping to break into his files (she’s really mad and not thinking straight, alright?) and instead finds Frank still there, drinking at his desk. In his drunken state, he tells her everything Claire had claimed about time travel, and stones, and that “bloody Scot bastard” who had taken everything from him. Bree is disturbed to find him so bitter and drunk, and honestly can’t fault her mother for leaving the guy-- he seemed awful. And how seriously could she take his story about magic stones when he’s three sheets to the wind?

Still, Bree can’t help but think. Her vacation is over and she goes back home to Claire and Jamie (they live in Edinburgh maybe, or a remote farming village away from modern hustle idk). Despite dropping many subtle hints, she can’t get her parents to crack. She does start writing down small details they mention about the family though-- for comparison to the historic family, out of curiosity, etc-- and trying to suss out whether her father is delusional or just lying. But he seems as sincere as ever, and never contradicts his stories like someone making it up might.

Now Bree is starting to feel like the crazy one. Is there even anything here to uncover? So her parents are orphans; so her mom left a drunkard and married a Scot instead. Everything truly suspicious is just circumstantial, paranoid even. Why is she so fixated on it? In the end, Bree finally decides to drop it.

She still had another visit to Inverness planned however, and Roger suggests they go to the Culloden heritage reenactment festival instead of getting stuck in dusty archives. Bree agrees, and Claire helps her assemble a period costume. Claire seems oddly knowledgeable and nostalgic about it, but Bree brushes it aside. In the end she has a costume that looks great, but isn’t totally accurate. It’s cheaper. It has zippers. She never said she was committed to accuracy ok? Still, making and wearing it seem to make her parents’ lips loosen a bit, and they all bond talking about Scotland and history and family the night before she leaves. As she’s going to sleep, she thinks she hears her parents discuss how they think “Jenny and Ian” are faring at Lallybroch, but that’s probably her imagination-- why would they speak in the present tense? And she knows for a fact Lallybroch is empty.

Flash forward-- Bree and Roger have a great time at the festival. (To insert my own headcanon agenda, I should mention Roger and Bree are not romantic, just good friends. Roger knows Bree is secretly gay, and sometimes even tries to be her wingman. Bree is out to her parents after they caught her and Sally McGinnis making out when she was 17; that’s why they trust her to stay at Roger’s during trips without too much shovel talk.) When they get back to the manse, they run into Fiona (who had been dancing at the stones at sunrise and gone all day). She awkwardly lets them know she brought a man back with her, who seems like he just needs some help. Confused, they ask why he wasn’t brought to the hospital, and she says he doesn’t need it. Fiona claims this man was at the reenactment (to explain his clothes) but dodges most of their questions. Still, Roger is very hospitable as a Reverend’s son and lets him stay.

The man, who introduces himself simply as Claudel, seems very friendly if a bit baffled. Still, Roger doesn’t love the idea of Bree staying in the building with a stranger and asks if she’d rather go home. Bree is resistant because she’s not some damsel who has to be protected, but Fiona pipes up and agrees with Roger. Especially since the trains aren’t running right now and the inn is full-- could she call Mr. & Mrs. Fraser to come pick you up, Bree?

Outnumbered, Brianna angrily agrees. She then sulks in the living room until Claudel comes in and they talk for a while. Brianna complains that everyone treats her like she’s less capable, and the man commiserates, pointing out what she had missed earlier-- his missing hand. She asks what happened, and he vaguely says “the war”. (Fiona had briefed him on what happened to him, where/when he is now, and how he should be as vague as possible when he couldn’t give the truth or a good lie.) Brianna decides she doesn’t mind this guy, even though his presence is inadvertently forcing her to be picked up by her parents like a misbehaving child from a slumber party.

About an hour or whatever later, there’s a knock at the door. Bree gets up, long suffering, and jokes with Claudel that it must be ‘her time’. They say goodbye amicably and he offers to walk her to the door like a gentleman.

Bree answers the door to see Claire on the other side, looking equal parts ruffled and concerned, and almost doesn’t notice Claudel freeze behind her. She hears him ask, “Milady?” under his breath, and now her mother is freezing in place too. Do they recognize each other? she wonders.

Bree gets her answer almost instantly, when a smile stretches on her mother’s face and Claire goes to hug the man, saying “oh my god, Fergus. Oh my son.” Cue record scratch noise-- did Mama just call this man her son??? Bree has more questions than ever before.

#outlander #outlander fic #outlander fanfic #fraser family #fergus fraser #brianna fraser #claire fraser #fix it #jamie fraser #outlander au #jamie x claire #to be clear 'claudel' never heard that brianna's last name was fraser #but fiona kinda put it all together and set up this reunion on purpose #she's pretty sly #my writing #plot bunny #mine

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krazyclue · 3 years

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Italian in Name Only

I am a mixtape of European influences, but the two biggest are Italian and Irish, so it's maybe ironic that I've never been much for family. Not hostile toward it, more like disinterested.

Italians and the Irish have the reputation of being devoted to their families. If there's nothing quite like a good Catholic upbringing mixed with poverty to convince people to have loads of children, then being middle-class and an only child is the antidote. Never wanted children, never wanted to be part of a family, didn't even really have a notion of them. I just never thought about it.

Not until lately anyway, and I do not mean in the sense of having children myself. I mean of being suddenly conscious of a growing need to know what my origins are, to see how I somehow fit into the larger concept of a family. When my ancestors arrived in America, what they did once they got here, and how that differs from or mirrors what other families have found. This desire might have something to do with the pandemic and all that time spent alone when the world was shut down—the isolation making me want to reconnect and do so on a deeper level.

Most of my knowledge of Italy is from the movies, design, and fashion. My understanding of Ireland is even more limited since I spent my only visit there wandering between pubs listening to white guys with 'dreads spinning drum'n'bass. I don't speak any Italian beyond a stray "Ciao, Bella" or "Vaffanculo." I know the second one because English soccer fans used it in a taunting chant whenever they played Italian teams ("Where were you in World War 2? VA-FFAN-CULO!!"). My father spoke fluent Italian when he was a child but forgot most of it in adulthood. My immediate family is small and spread by time, distance, and some animosity; I know very little about most of the members of my extended one. If I have cultural heritage, it's hard to know what it is.

I am not at all sure what made me start to think this way. It could have been watching the HBO adaptation of My Brilliant Friend, based on Elena Ferrante's novels. The show is a portrait of two women growing up in 50's Naples. We see their lives against a backdrop of a country coming fitfully to life after the devastation following the Second World War, its progress held back by repressive patriarchy. Grim moments often give way to more ecstatic ones before doubling back again the other way, leading to emotionally vivid set pieces that capture the personal and historical in the same scene. The score by Max Richter alone can induce yearning and seeing the young, very inexperienced cast gradually develop into compelling actors makes the whole experience unforgettable, like the best work of the Italian neorealist cinema.

But My Brilliant Friend is set in Naples, and my family is from Tuscany. Italy, like the States, is a country of regions that do not always like each other, the north versus the south, and my ancestors would have been culturally different from the show's characters. Still, carried by the show, I find myself more and more drawn to thinking about Italy—I have roots in Germany and France as well, but for some reason, Italy is the country for which I feel the strongest connection.

Possibly I am entirely led by my stomach. Early in the pandemic, I started getting into Italian cooking, going carefully through a copy of Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hasan, who you might call the Julia Child of that countries' cuisine. I have a copy of Silver Spoon too, a compendium of real recipes from Italian families, from which I've made a few dishes, and I have my grandmother's pasta maker, and somewhere on an index card her hand-written ravioli recipe. It took all day for her and my grandfather to make that recipe; she stirred the slow simmering meat and prepared the ingredients, and my grandfather painstakingly sealed each ravioli with a fork.

My German grandfather may have loved his pig's feet and pickled herring, but that obsession thankfully was not passed onto me, nor, as far as I know, to anyone else in my family. I might like a good stout too, even some Irish stew on occasion, but it's Italian food that captures my imagination. I am only beginning to know how each region has shaped that cuisine and the influences that created so many varied dishes.

I have not kept up with my family. I hardly know most of them, and outside of my parents and my uncle, I am not in touch with any other relatives. I forget the birthdays of even the closest friends and family; I must mark them on a calendar, or I'll miss the day altogether. My uncle has become something of the family historian and has been sending emails to nearly a dozen family relations. While I do recognize many of the names, there are far more that I do not remember and at least two I only know of by reputation. There are also people I met on that list, only once or twice, and those I saw most often were back when my grandparents were making their famous ravioli to go along with the Thanksgiving turkey, and that was a long time ago now.

Those emails coincide with my awakening interest in my origins. I know a few more names now: my great grandparents Enea and Italia Lorenzetti emigrated here in 1916 and had two sons; my grandmother's dislike for Enea, a man with old-world beliefs who thought women shouldn't drive, my grandfather's brother, who threatened to walk out if Enea told them how to run their business; a rift with the Catholic Church because a priest wouldn't baptize Enea's and Italia's daughter unless they paid him an indulgence, and that the girl died soon after.

I've seen family photos, the people captured in those images ghost-like in those black and white pictures, and since I am such a mongrel, I do not look at all like them. Of course, I'd like to know more, but really, what I want is a better sense of what Italy is and why I feel so drawn toward it, not only the particulars of my one family's experience. I will start getting to know my family, but that is only the beginning of reconnecting, not its conclusion.

As I read and study (and hopefully get to make that first trip to Italy after the pandemic canceled my trip scheduled for last October), I want to know Italy without romanticizing it. You can convince yourself that life is better "over there" when it's probably the same or worse. Okay, maybe better too, possibly much better. But I don't want to become an obsessive Italy fan. Or fall for obvious cliches—about how Italy is a place where people know how to live. Italians are all passionate and stylish, speaking with their hands, operatic and over the top, and all the other hot-blooded Italian tropes. I'm sure there's some truth there as well.

But Italy also had one of the worst Covid-19 outbreaks and still struggles with a government, often in disarray, that cannot impede the dominance of the Camorra clans in Naples. And Italy still hasn't quite overcome the legacy of Mussolini: a far-right movement led by Matteo Salvini remains threateningly close to taking power, a rise aided by racism and xenophobia. I do not want to idealize or unfairly condemn the place, but rather know Italy and its' people for whatever they are, so I can see how it shaped myself and my family. I want to take pictures in the streets, wander without a plan until I got lost and needed one. Maybe discover my operatic personality.

Coming out of this lockdown, old age not quite here but getting closer, as in just around the corner smoking a cigarette close, with the world isolated from itself, without any family of my own; maybe that is what sparked this need to connect with a sense of place, a sense of family. That's what being "white" can mean—it's when you've become so absorbed into American culture that your ancestry seems like it started around about 1980 (in my case anyway). I used to joke that my cultural heritage was shopping malls and Back to the Future movies at the multiplex.

I think that has some advantages to being part of a well-defined community or coming from a large extended family. If you have no family, you won't be assigned an identity by what they think you should be. You won't have as many expectations about your choices before you get to choose for yourself.

The problem is that you also have no sense of history or your heritage or how your small part fits into it the larger story. You are isolated. You can claim America, the nation of immigrants, but you make a claim not knowing where your people came from, and that might be the worst side effect of assimilation: forgetting the past. I've never known much about mine. I regret letting so much time slip before realizing family and heritage are so important. Now I am going to do my best to embrace my past, whatever it may be.

#family ancestors identity immigrants Italy USA America

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silverflintdaily · 4 years

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Silverflint Summer Challenge - All the prompts so far!

Challenge details:

Prompts Any kind of prompt is fair game as long as they include Silverflint. OT3 and OT4 ships like Silverflinthamilton are fine too. You can submit as many prompts as you like. All prompts will be anonymous and can be submitted through the form linked below.

Fills You can create any kind of fanwork for this, fic, art, edits, videos etc. Prompts won’t be assigned or claimed so you can make things for multiple prompts and each prompt can have multiple fills.

Schedule Submit prompts and work on fills May 1 through June 22. Posting week is June 23rd to 30th, more details will be posted later.

Submit prompts here:

HTTPS://FORMS.GLE/LMGMVAYUHRAFZCVW6

art above is a commission from @laskapsy

Full list of prompts as of 5/25/20 below.

Ships/characters in bold

Max, Anne, Silver, and Flint They all go to burning man

Silverflint Instagram drama: Silver has crush on Flint, following with each other, Silver shove his love on Flint and Flint's uncomfortable. Flint unfollowed him one day and Silver was devastated and disappeared from Instagram. Flint found out through friends and he must seek him before Silver did something stupid.

Silverflint Truth or dare

Silverflint Canon era, one (or both) accidently calling the other one pet names

Silverflint (+sort of Flinthamilton) Silver asking Flint, while having sex, to tell him about his sex with Thomas (in detail). I think canon era, placed after 310, would be better but it's up to writer.

Silverflinthamilton + ? summer vacation modern au - maybe they go somewhere warm (or not, as Flint burns so easily), maybe they meet some beautiful men there

Silverflint post canon era reunion fic - fighting to kissing. they start out almost trying to kill one another

Silverflint modern au - after a meet rude during the coronavirus lockdown they both can't stop thinking about that handsome idiot they met. One of them tracks the other down online to apologize. how do they spend the endless weeks of shelter in place?

Silverflint canon era - A small happy celebration with just the two of them.

Silverflintmiranda canon era - Miranda survives the shot, convalesces with Silver

Silverflint modern au where either Silver or Flint has an ASMR channel (or they both have) and they secretly love listening to the other. Could be distant pining or enemies to lovers etc.

Silverflint (+Hamilton[s]) tarzan au (you can choose who is on the island and who arrives there). Lord Thomas Hamilton and/or Miranda can also be included.

Silverflintmadi "My name is (Long) John Silver. And I've got a long fucking memory [loss]."

Silverflintmadi canon era. They go on a picnic and it starts to rain. Fluff or otherwise good times would be nice!

Silverflint Flint is a cockslut and hasn't had cock in ages. Silver is happy (and really fucking astonished) to present his for the taking. happens before Silver loses his leg, canon era.

Silverflint Modern au with 'there is only one bed' trope and mutual pining. Silver is Flint's long suffering sassy PA who's been hiding a crush on his boss and friend forever.He has been successful so far. One day he has to accompany Flint on a business trip to let's say Bahamas?! and there was a booking mistake - there were booked into a honeymoon suite. And since there is a summer festival there is no chance to get another room. Things happen!

Silverflint, Silverflinthamilton 7 years after their escape from Savannah plantation, James and Thomas are living a quiet, happily ever after life - money and jewels they grabbed on their way out were enough for decades of comfortable life which they now had. And almost everything was perfect-they had each other, got to know each other again,accepted each others' demons and learned to handle each others' nightmares and guilt. Flint long ago told Thomas about Silver and with time forgave, but didn't forget him. After all Flint's heart was broken on Skeleton Island and both him and Thomas knew deep inside he still loved John Silver. They talked about Silver-about the feelings Flint used to hide, about the pain and forgiveness and about love that didn't had a happy ending. It was fine, discussing it all together, sharing these stories-past is in the past and that chapter of Flint's life will remain there. Until one day the past refused to remain in the past and John Silver showed up on their doorstep, injured, delirious and looking for his own forgiveness.

Silverflint/Silverflinthamilton Post canon S4: John Silver is no longer Long John Silver. Exiled from Madi and Maroon Island, he brought himself to somewhere nearby Savannah and disappeared. James Flint and Thomas Hamilton escaped from plantation, bought house and live happily together. 3 years later, Flint saw John Silver at tavern. But John Silver doesn't remember him. Turns out he lost memories due sickness and always forget who he was everyday. Will Flint able bring John Silver's memory back and reconcile?

Silverflint, Silverflinthamilton Modern AU silverflint - Flint and Thomas are a happily married couple and Silver and Flint are bffs with a long history. But the thing is-Silver has been crushing on Flint forever and his pining is epic. He is also sure he is clever and no one figured it out. Only both Thomas and Flint did a while ago and Flint is determined to make Silver confess his feelings. He has turned Silver's life into a living hell with his seduction techniques and jeans so tight they should be illegal in public. Meanwhile Thomas is having too much fun watching them two and making his own plans for their shared future together.

Silverflint John Silver is 30 year old virgin and has never had a relationship and sex. Max and Jack decided to set him up with date at local bar. John Silver's first date was James Flint, a loner and his last partner left him for indifference opinion. James Flint is working as cattle farmer (?) and their date went well. Except.. they are not rushing to have sex and taking time to know each other. There were lot confusion and miscommunication between them on next date. Will John Silver able to lose his virgin and will James Flint make first step to ask John Silver as his boyfriend? First kiss, first touch, sexting, first sex and hot smut.

Silverflint smut ficlet to go with finnguala's fabulous art

Silverflint post canon - old pirates having a day at the beach

Silverflint Flint is distracted by Silver's big hands.

Silverflint Modern au: Flint found Silver's missing childhood's photo at Silver's grandparent's house. He told Silver about it and gave compliment on him ("you were cute as kid and I noticed how baby earsie you were and your smile was beautiful") and Silver keep blush for non stop teasing. And then sweet, hot summer sex on bed ;)

Silverflinthamilton pornstars au

Silverflinthamilton After reunion. Thomas is trying to seduce Silver with a new, especially tight, pair of trousers.

Silverflint Canon era. S1-S2 After an accident on the Walrus Silver and Flint end up being able to read each others thoughts. How does that end up going for them?

Silverflint + Miranda just some porn where miranda is pegging one of them while the other watches them fall apart. canon or modern era, it doesn't really matter.

Silverflint Two idiots with mutual pining and obliviousness. Others try to help but it may not go so well at first.

Silverflint canon era. After a really great haul the Walrus has a rum soaked celebration. The next morning Silver and Flint wake up together in the captain's bed with no clothes.

Silverflinthamilton After reunion. Silver finally appears on their doorstep, later they are talking over their dinner but something goes wrong and Silver and Flint start to fight. Thomas is trying to calm and separate them but Flint accidentally punches him instead of Silver.

Silverflint Persuasion AU. An unmarried Silver encounters his former love Captain James Flint after he returns from battle.

Silverflint competing reality cooking show contestants

Silverflint Silver and Flint have met before many years ago and even spent the night together. Now for reasons (there was a lot of rum that night, they're both different people, memory loss etc.) neither of them remember. One of them has a nagging feeling when Silver joins the Walrus crew but one of them remembers nothing yet.

Silverflint One of them needs to be restrained and dominated to truly let go. Writer's choice who and what era.

Silverflint Silver threatens to shave his head

Silverflint/Silverflinthamilton (probably?)Post canon S4 and Treasure Island: Captain Flint's ghost decided to haunt John Silver for revenge. However, Long John Silver was disappeared to nowhere. Fast forward for this year, Long John Silver's great great grandson, John Silver bought property in Bristol. One day, he was haunted by ghost Captain Flint. Ghost Captain Flint wants revenge but ended up falling in love sweet, poor John Silver's due social anxiety. Will they make up for loss done by his late ancestor? Happy ending for everyone. All depend on writer's idea!

Silverflint AU Canon divergence during season 4. Madi really dies in episode 7; Thomas Hamilton is not found in Savannah. The war goes on, bolstered by an enraged Silver, fueled by the Urca gold. During this time of violence and grief, Flint and Silver become all each other has left in the world.

Silverflint Sometimes one of them will keep the other on the edge for as long as he can stand. There is lots and lots of begging and pleading. There could be fingering and rimming and toys...

Silverflinthamilton Reunion fic where John finds James and Thomas in their home x nbr of years after s4, then realises he knows Thomas because they spent a month living together in Paris some years before Thomas met James and having a blast. John recognises Thomas who doesn't recognise him until John shows a tattoo/mark placed somewhere there is no misunderstanding of why he recognises that part of him (because he's seen john naked). Develops into threesome or twosome where the last person joins in later.

Silverflint tentacles

SilverFlint / MadiSilverFlintHamilton Post s4 Thomas and Flint are living together after escaping the plantation. Madi and Silver who are still together come to visit them. SilverFlint have palpable sexual/romantic tension and Madi and Thomas conspire to push them together. Afterwards when the tension is resolved Silver and Flint realize it was planned by their significant others all along and invite them into bed and the four of them have some fun

Silverflint When drunk, Flint behaves like Toby Stephens’ Prince John in BBC Robin Hood.

Silverflint (hamilton) Annihilation Au

Silverflint Canon-compliant up til 4.06. When the Spanish attacks Nassau, Silver is the one who is thought to be dead and later revealed to have been captured (instead of Madi). Rogers tries to use to Silver to cause a rift between Madi and Flint, thinking that Madi will trade the treasure for Silver's life while Flint will not. To everyone's surprise, the opposite happens. Madi refuses to trade the treasure while Flint will stop at nothing to get Silver back.

Silverflint firefighter au: silver keeps accidentally triggering the fire alarm while trying to improve his cooking (an actual fire may or may not be involved) and flint is the ridiculously attractive firefighter who has to deal with it

Silverflint vigilante au: they're both vigilantes watching over the same area and have a bit of a rivalry going on until they have to team up to take down a new threat.

Silverflint modern au (amnesia): silver wakes up with amnesia and forgets that he was dating flint before the accident. as far as he remembers, they can't stand each other, and he doesn't understand why flint shows up at the hospital and seems genuinely worried about him. (roles could be reversed--author's choice).

#Silverflint Summer Challenge #Silverflint #prompts #Black Sails #fanworks challenge

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septiembrre · 4 years

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Rio Headcanons

Tagged by the wonderful @foxmagpie

What are your headcanons about Rio’s family? Siblings? Parents? Lifestyle growing up?

I really love the idea of Rio having been raised by a supportive, healthy, loving, beautiful nuclear family. I personally have imagined him with siblings -- sisters! Cousins! I think his respect for women and their power has to come from somewhere and it’s probably a matriarch. He has a strong handle on parenting and I think he must be modeling his own caregivers...

But, @foxmagpie pointed out the black & white vintage photos in his closet... Obviously, I had seen them but I just understood them to be like my family’s own old photographs. I had thought -- they’re just his ancestors, probably his grandparents or bisabuelos. But, then I realized there’s no sign of sisters, any siblings or of his parents in his apartment. The Good Girls set design team loves a ridiculously terrible photo prop (hello old Dean/Beth family photos) and you know they would have been down to make the same thing for Rio... but alas. All we have are those photos of Rio + Marcus, an ambiguous baby picture and the black & white photo and it’s probably intentional.

I come from a small, atypical Mexican-American family structure myself, but I feel for him. I always headcanoned that he had a dad who had died when he was a kid or a teenager and that maybe his mom was still around and involved in his & Marcus’ life. But, quizas no?

I’m curious about how much Beth knows now about Rio’s family structure from Rhea. She knows Rhea’s a single mom, and her co-parent was out of the picture for a spell. But, I think Rhea would have also mentioned involvement or support from Marcus’s other set of abuelos/her former in-laws?

So... who were Rio’s caregivers? His grandparents? No sisters??? We should all collectively DM Manny and ask him to share his own Rio backstory headcanons. Haha, watch -- the show is totally going to ret-con this in Season 4.

It’s interesting overall how the writer’s deploy family world-building for the characters. Dean’s mom is the only one on-screen -- and Dean’s parents overall have gotten more build out than any other family history combined (wild!). I know that’s influenced by them casting Jessica Walter who is phenom, but expanding out the family histories is such a rich area for the show creators to play in if they choose to go there. All of our main protagonists have deceased parents. I think it’s been a choice on the show to play into a lack of safety net and support for the women. For better or for worse, Beth, Ruby & Annie are at a point where they are it for their children.

That being said -- I would love to meet Stan’s parents! And I would love to get information about Rio’s coming-into-crime especially as a parallel to Beth’s experience. It’s the parallel we would all want and the parallel we deserve. (Dear show, Stop with the Boland family parallels, PLEASE! If I have to hear about Dean’s scummy dad one more time--).

But, yes, I’m very invested in Beth & Annie’s, Ruby’s, Stan’s, and, of course, Rio’s families and hope we get to see more characterization unfold over the next seasons.

What are your headcanons for Rio and Rhea’s relationship? How do you think they met, at what point did Rhea learn about his work, was Rio in love with her, etc.?

I’m so curious about what attracts Rio to people/his love interests. It’s becoming clear what attracts him to Beth... But, I wonder about has attracted him to others.

While Beth & Rhea are both moms (haha, and beautiful, and well-endowed with the boobs), that’s in the present time on the show -- Rio was attracted to Rhea before she was a mom. I wonder what he looks for? What did he see in Dylan?

Hmmm.

What are your headcanons about Rio’s and Mick’s relationship? Did they meet through crime? Are they lifelong friends?

I want them to be childhood friends!!!! I want that so badddddd!!!

Oh, god, can you imagine a flashback to them young in crime?! Like late teens or early 20s? Ha, as a parallel to the Beth + Ruby scene/origin story? I would die. DIE.

Do you think Rio’s been arrested before Beth got him arrested in 1.10? When, and what for?

Ha, I don’t think he’s been arrested for anything significant. He’s plenty sanctimonious about keeping his name out of everything.

If Rio weren’t a crime boss, what jobs do you think he’d be good at? Why?

I mean he’s probably great a math, phenom at managing a huge team/multiple business ventures, and super charismatic. What couldn’t he do?

I think he was probably pushed to crime because of lack of opportunity for MOC and the need for money. This does make me think he came up poor. But, I think he stayed in crime because he’s so good at it, and likes the flexibility, the creativity, the $$$, and the power.

I think he could go legit and still be pulling in decent buck with all of his business fronts but he doesn’t choose to.

What are Rio’s hobbies outside of work and Marcus? What do you think he’d get up to on a day with absolutely no responsibilities?

He’s obviously an art heaux. The real question is WHAT’S HIS MEDIUM???? If he actually produces art like the abstract stuff up in his house, I would scream. I can see him being into photography when the mood strikes him and he has time. #hipster

I like the idea of Rio taking cooking classes in some sort of exclusive, foodie way (1:1 with a chef, or a compa who is a fly line cook).

We know he plays tennis and I also imagine he boxes and works out at the type of high-end gym I could only dream of. It probably never smells of sweat, and all the machines are top-end, brand new. I mentioned in a post a while ago that I wasn’t sure if I wanted Rio to be my boyfriend, my bff, or to adopt me -- and I stand by it.

Who do you think Dylan is to Rio (a friend, an associate, someone he was dating?) and why?

I do lean towards friend/associate/some one he’s fucked. Rio was very handsy with Dylan’s person. Obviously, in real life Manny & Adelfa are married, and I think they were leaning heavily on that intimacy in the scene.

But Rio also didn’t kiss Dylan? Which leads me back to -- damn, Rio. You were fronting so hard. Like... that was high-school-level showmanship.

What do you think Rio’s goals for the future are?

I think he wants to be his own boss, I think he likes being at the top of the food chain, and I think he wants to stay in crime because he still sees opportunities.

I’m so curious as to what his $$$ bench marks are?

Beth’s are current financial security and probably college for all of her little ones. So what it for Rio?

- College for Marcus?

- Inheritance for Marcus?

- Inheritance for all of his (nonexistent) family?

It has to be more than that. He’s already hit these benchmarks based off of the status symbols in the show (the G-Wagon, the quality of furniture in his loft, Rhea’s offer of maybe like a $5-10k check to Beth. Beth’s not family!).

What do you think Rio is bad at (cooking, dancing, singing, etc.)? How come?

I don’t think he can bake.

I also don’t seem him being good at boldly lying to people? It’s definitely not his style. He’s more of a lying by omission type of person. I don’t see him being able to spin a tale like Beth, but he also doesn’t have her white privilege/whole suburban mom aesthetic.

Hm, I haven’t rewatched the show in a minute but I think the only time we’ve seen him boldly lie is to Beth -- when he lies about the nature of their relationship. Haha, and he’s really bad at it. Maybe this isn’t the fairest thing to judge him on. But, I think his lying relies on purposeful silence.

Why do you think Rio is drawn to Beth?

I think Rio was drawn to Beth because she’s a survivor, she’s scrappy and she’s smart. I think he’s drawn to how quick she is on her feet. Beth has limited awareness but she can be really good at navigating what’s going for her and leveraging it for her gain (and Rio’s). I think he’s also been drawn to her because she’s a parent, and she can be really brave (I would say reckless!! Beth, stop endangering yourself!).

Beth’s also like absurdly beautiful. Christina is ethereal and they try to make her ... frumpy or something in the show. But... we have eyes. And Rio certainly has eyes for her figure, and her face, and like all the attributes and isn’t shy about letting her know.

Why do you think Rio didn’t kill Beth? Was it their past, his present feelings for her, because he needed her business? Some combination?

I think Rio sees a kindred spirit in Beth and at this point (post-Season 3), she’s in his life now. Despite all that she’s done to him, he seems completely unable to extricate himself from her. I think this due to his present past feelings for her. The business is a bonus, a front if you will.

In Season 2, there were these questions for Beth about whether all of it was real -- if she meant something to Rio, if Beth could walk back all of her crimes so far and retreat into anonymity. In Season 3, we know that Beth can’t let go of crime, and that she’s capable of the same dark deeds as Rio, and we know that Rio did care for her, cares for her still apparently because he’s very much in his feelings. Those Season 3 picnic table scenes? Wow.

Ah, can you believe these two are going to like... have some sort of development in their relationship again? Obviously, it will be full of strife and conflict. But isn’t it wild that we have another Brio sex scene in store for us one day? Jenna Ban’s comment, “You don't go from having the hottest sex of your life to wanting someone dead without conflicted feelings” is just the BIGGEST TEASE. How are our bbs going to be intimate with each other again?

OKAY THIS ENDED UP BEING SUPER LONG. Jeez... If you’ve gotten this far, thank you for engaging with my headcanons. Lmk what you think :-)

#ggweek2020 #rio

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whatsortofschoolisthis · 3 years

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Rubin ‘Rubi’ Orn

“A tall, redheaded stern faced woman with an ugly curse scar across her face. Wouldn’t fancy meeting her in a dark alley.”

- Chaotic Neutral

- Born September 22, 1948 on the Faroe Islands.

- Asexual.

- Was the result of a fling of Henry’s before he married his first wife. Her mother, Elsa, is a half-blood.

- Alumni of Drumstrang. Recommends attending one of the smaller schools or even a school out of the area when asked about her time there.

- Drumstrang does not have ‘houses’ in the traditional sense but they do have different schools of Magic that students can focus on after their third year. Rubi chose seiðr or Old Norse magic.

- Sees magic as a neutral force, it is only as Light or as Dark as those using it.

- Morally grey.

- sarcastic.

- Worked as a spy during the First Wizarding War. Later hunted Death Eaters for a time before becoming a professional Duellist.

- Hates Grindelwald with a burning passion.

- Blew her cover after Death Eaters targeted her father’s children (Hecate and Jacob.) Brutally killed three of them, two escaped.

- Owns a Kneazle named Sam and speaks with him at length on various subjects. Values his opinion. Hecate, Bryn, and Sean are concerned.

- Moved two houses down from Hecate’s house after the incident with the death eaters

- Her patronus is a wolverine. Has no idea what it is, refers to it as a “Fucked up Badger thing.” Her memory is holding Hecate and Jacob for the first time.

- Practices an older, more traditional form of wandless magic. Uses plants, crystals, and bones in her spells. Does have a wand for duelling.

- Yew Wand, 11 inches, springy flexibility, and a vial of Swooping Evil venom as a core.

Popular in Ireland and Scotland, the European Yew is a wand wood of death and rebirth. The owner values honor highly, and would often prefer to die rather than submit or surrender in extreme cases. They often have a preoccupation with religion, spirituality, spirits, reincarnation, and the after-life.

These witches and wizards are independent, and may refuse the help of others (this may be overcome later in life, but will be especially prominent in their youth). It takes them much time to develop as people, as well as to develop their magic.

The unusual quality about yew wood itself is how flexible the wood is, despite its great hardness and strength (for being a softwood). The owner is similar in that they have strong convictions but are flexible in the manner in which they accomplish goals or uphold their convictions. They have an inner-resilience which allows them to spring back from metaphorical deaths.

They can be exceptionally protective of those they’ve ‘claimed’ as their own, and make for frightening adversaries

A powerful core, swooping evil venom has an odd reputation as it is capable of the most terrifying mind-altering spells as well as the most potent mind-healing magic. This core chooses creative witches and wizards, with great imaginations. Often, this reveals itself in endeavors like stone carving as well as creating the most ingenious and twisted of hexes and jinxes. Their owner’s head in the clouds appearance belies their talents in offensive magic and manipulation. At their worst, they can be a bit sadistic and play head games on other people for their own amusement. There is talent in magic to do with darkness, memory, the mind, hiding, and concealment. This core also possesses a latent soul-based magic, which is activated by specific wand woods (such as camphor). Otherwise, it gravitates towards woods with a darker nature such as blackthorn or snakewood.

(Description courtesy of cloverlywands blog)

Wren Ito (Maiden name: Ames)

“Their older sister, Wren, was a fine student of my house. Quiet, made almost no trouble for anybody. Clearly that must have come from her mother.”

- Lawful Good.

- Born January 1st, 1950 in London, England.

- Pureblood (technically).

- Ravenclaw, the first in the Ames family

- Daughter from her father’s first Marriage to Nancy Ames (Maiden name: White). Her mother was the muggleborn daughter of a Mortician and a housewife.

- Nancy was murdered in 1955, the murder was never solved but was believed to have been committed by an early version of Death Eaters. Wren was with her grandparents at the time of the murder.

- Wren was a good student during her time at Hogwarts but was generally quiet and unassuming. Her favorite class was Ghoul Studies and her best class was Astronomy. Involved in Astronomy Club and Ghoul Club

- Became interested in Ghouls due to her mother sticking around for two years after her death and because Muggle Shades often hung around her grandmother, the daughter of a muggle and a Squib, who had a mild version of second sight.

- Slight build with light brown hair and tiny. Looks nothing like her younger siblings.

- Met her future husband Osamu at the Triwizard Tournament.

- Her patronus is a fox, which is her husbands Animagus form. It was previously a field mouse. Her happy memory is her first date with her husband.

- Really dislikes Rakepick as she went to school with her.

- Still a quiet person but has developed a very wry sense of humor from her husband. Also loves Puns. This causes great pain to her family.

- Lives on Mahoutokoro school grounds with her husband and two children Sara and Mirou. Her husband is the Professor of Transfiguration and she writes books on Ghouls and Shades (Muggle ghosts). Is considered the foremost expert on the subject. Uses a typewriter rather than a quill.

- Her wand is Mahogany, 12 inches, swishy flexibility and a mermaid hair core.

Mahogany wand owners are charismatic, energetic, and possess much curiosity. They have above average magical cores, and great endurance. They like to be intellectually stimulated and become bored very quickly. The lion’s share of their energy goes towards what interests them, and they neglect that which does not. There is a regal air to their mannerisms, and a devil may care attitude in their interactions with others. They care little for others’ opinions, but also care too much on the opinions of those they admire or are close to them.

Most subjects and knowledge comes easily to them, and they can come up with innovative solutions incredibly fast.

Though they can be sweet and protective of their loved ones, these witches and wizards are also jealous and vengeful to those they dislike. Many times,their dislike is arbitrary or due to jealousy. They can be extremely possessive and controlling at their worst.

Merperson hair wands’ reputation varies by the subspecies and by cultural norms. What is shared between people with this core, it that they all are creative and imaginative, and usually have some sort of musical talent. These witches and wizards also have a talent with language, and may learn foreign languages with relative ease. ‘Restless’ describes these people well, and they like to investigate and explore. They are always searching for something, and even they don’t know exactly what it is. They can become irritated by those who try to force a routine on them, or those who try to tell them how to live. Adventurous at heart, they like to try new things or novel approaches. They don’t care for doing something just because it’s “tried and true.” Finding new and better ways is important to them, testing the limits of what is possible and what they can accomplish.

Fiadah O'Faud.

“All O’Faud’s are Blood Traitors. Especially that one.”

- Technically Chaotic Good. Lawful Chaotic would be a better term.

- Born April 1st 1951, in a home for unwed mothers in County Galway Ireland. Was the result of an affair between her mother Brigid O’Faud and Henry Ames.

- Pansexual

- Has a half-Veela partner of seven years named Simon Jones.

- Pureblood.

- O’Faud’s had not been allowed at Hogwarts up until about 1914 due to an ancestor killing the grandson of Salazar Slytherin because he (allegedly) married and then murdered Callum O’Faud’s granddaughter, who was a squib. They were not allowed in Slytherin until 1951.

- Her mother and stepfather immigrated to America when she was 13 years old. They both still currently live in Boston, Massachusetts. She transferred to Ilvermorny and was sorted into Wampus House. Was originally in Slytherin.

- Visits all her half siblings often, especially Hecate, Bryn, and Danny.

- Fiadah works as a magical law Prosecutor in America and takes cases that mostly involve violence against Creatures, Muggles, Squibs, Muggleborns, and foreigners.

- Cunning and extremely bullheaded but surprisingly well spoken. Does not look like she would be well spoken.

- Dry as dead leaves humor.

- Covered in magical tattoos that move around her body. Currently has a snake, a thunderbird, two crows, a raven, a hare, a spray of flowers that bloom in the morning and close at night, and a Thestral.

- Average height with black hair in a pixie cut and black eyes.

- Animagus form is a crow.

- Patronus is an Irish Hare. Her happy memory is introducing Hecate, Sean, Bryn, and Jacob to American rock the day she got her law certification.

- Saw her grandmother die (cancer).

- Lives in rural Georgia. Does not speak to any of her parents, does not like them.

- Plays the fiddle. When she tells someone she played them ‘Like a fiddle’ that’s a compliment, Fiddles are hard to play.

- Her wand is a Redwood wand, 13 inches, slight flexibility, and a dragonheartstring core.

Prized in California and Pacific Northwest, redwood is notorious for its owner’s ability to survive the impossible (Pottermore). Which is fortunate because they seem to be danger magnets. Their personality and natural skill set that this wand is attracted to also make for people who thrive under pressure and against the odds.

These witches and wizards have good reflexes as well as good judgement and foresight. Not much surprises them and what does surprise them, they react and adapt to with ridiculous ease. As Ollivander states, they have a talent for turning disaster into opportunity.

Brave and adventurous, not much intimidates the owner of a redwood wand.

As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner.The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

(Description courtesy of cloverlywands and pottermore

#hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #jacob's sibling #fiadah O’Faud #Rubin orn #wren ito

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hpdabbles · 3 years

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Would you be willing to write a random pov of Trox? I just read your Kindness and Remorse and I adore him!

jbgvibehdvidushviu THANK YOU FOR LIKING HIM! Trox is one of my favorite Ocs. Sure I’ll write you some. This is set around during the time Harry and Dudley move in with Hagrid.

Putting it under a read more due to possible Spoiler alerts......if I keep the current plan. I haven’t exactly decided the ending yet and that means some of the stuff here may be altered later on

Trox had long ago given up on finding respect from the wizarding world. His kind had a version of independent government from the wizards- there had lots of leeways to practice their culture compare to his grandparents- but they still co-exist and had to follow most of the Wizengamot’s laws.

He loath them sometimes. Hated how they ruled over him and his people, with no regard to their culture, hated how they mocked and sneered at them when they needed the services provided by Gringotts. But there wasn’t much he could do about it for he was only one person.

Unlike his ancestors, he didn’t want a revolution to overthrow the Ministry of Magic and free the goblins back to the old ways of glorious battles and warfare. He just wanted respect, for his people, for his customs, for himself.

But that was too much to ask of wizards and witches who passed through the bank and he grew knowing he needed to sneer first and frighten their young before they had the chance of stepping all over him.

Then one day, a few weeks before his thirteen birthday, around his second month working as a teller- one of the most basic starting positions but rather respectable for his age- he met him. Harry Potter entered his life like a whirlwind, throwing everything he knew about wizards right out the window with a few sentences.

His threat of plugging his father’s dagger into his heart didn’t so much as faze him, if anything Harry looked excited at the idea. That was the first time Trox ever thought Harry as pretty, the way his eyes shone with genuine glee as he gazed upon the Mughal dagger his father had created with utter awe.

The more Trox spent time with The-Boy-Who-Lived the more he liked him.

He not only tolerated the goblins’ way of life Harry adores them. He could speak hours on hours of weaponry, he never pushed for someone’s name and respected the ownership law far faster than any other human. Harry is younger than he, but he stood tall without a lick of fear even when facing Rex and Etta the two most notorious guards and celebrities of their own right in the Pit.

They were some of the best in their generation which earns them high levels of respect many goblins cleared a path for them when they moved about, and swoon when they spoke. Many of the Goblin nations hope to either marry them or have them married into their families, his own father had even hinted Rex would be a good life partner once or twice.

Trox himself still got nervous when they walked by him, let alone speak to them, but not Harry, if anything the young wizard wanted to approach them even more for being so fearsome.

In fact, Trox learned later on Harry had been so taken by the danger they obviously posed upon their first meeting, he actually drew them. Rex had been preening through the breakroom in a way no one has seen in a long time, telling anyone who cared to listen that a wizard called him “fearsome”.

Of course, he was, to a goblin strength meant beauty, and Harry proclaimed he belongs in a scene of battle, with decapitated heads and rivers of blood. The young wizard had the habit of doing that, of flirting with goblins in such a charming manner during his visits slowly but surely making his way into the Golbin Nation’s hearts and Trox knew he wasn’t aware of it. Harry was just naturally adorable that way.

It made Trox nervous much more than Rex or Etta ever could and he was closer in age to them. He often feels like a fool fumbling about in Harry’s presence, tripping over his own feet and messing up the simplest of tasks.

But Harry also made him feel like he could do anything, rise above everything if only to see him cheering and clapping for him. He always cared about his training, as the Head Goblin’s son he would one day lead his people but if anyone chose to challenge him when he turned eighteen he had to be prepared to battle for his right to rule, as all previous Heads have done; but he tried harder, trained harder because Harry inspired him to.

Harry Potter acted like Trox’s battle abilities were something incredible and he wanted to be the very best so Harry had a real reason to marvel at him.

“ Kribhuisb,” His father told him a few days before his birthday celebration while he had been practicing his close combat blade skills, slowly going through the stances to perfect his form. Since his father was his only blood family, he was the only one to use Trox's real name. “I have decided to invite Harry Potter to the Pit for your birthday.”

Trox fumbled so hard he fell flat on his face his sword clatter at his side. “W-what!? But he’s not a goblin! H-h-harry is a wizard and they aren’t normally allowed such privilege!”

His father only smiled “Maybe but if a certain warrior prince is interested in finding a life partner he should demonstrate his abilities in the Pit. Besides, I have grown fond of the boy and so have many of the others. It was put to a vote at the last meeting and they all agreed he earned the right to see the Pit. It’s been a long time since a wizard has shown us such respect for our way of life.”

Trox gape at him but his parent barely gave him time to comment instead stepping forward for a spar and forced him into such intense training he felt he would collapse when they were done.

Still, he asked him to help him train again the next morning because if Harry was going to be there then it would Trox’s best performance he has ever given at the Pit.

#hpdabbles #Harry Potter #Kindness and Remorse #Trox #Goblin culture #Anonymous

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ryoyiel · 4 years

Text

Hogwarts AU - Chapter 1/?

Hey guys! I thought I’d upload my work here on tumblr as well, so here you go!

The house of the Prevc family was old and dark and mysterious, with many rooms and floors. Everywhere in the house hang portraits and photographs of the family and their ancestors. Countless books in ancient bindings and runes filled their library, dark artefacts could be found all across the mansion. You could feel the magic when you entered the house, breathe it in. They were a proud family. Proud of their descend, proud of their belongings, proud of their magic, which was one of the strongest, but also one of the darkest family magic in all of Europe. But most of all they were proud of their eldest son, Peter. Peter was everything an honourable pureblood family could wish for in an heir. His magic was strong, so strong that even the portraits he passed by could sense it. He knew how to behave, knew the etiquette. His younger brothers were not so much like him. Whereas Cene, their second son, was a son they could very well be proud of too, even though he and Peter differed a lot in character and attitude, Domen certainly was not. Where their ancestors praised Peter for his outstandingly strong and dark magic and aura when he walked past their portraits, they wrinkled their noses when Domen did.

“Disgustingly light the aura of this boy”, Domen’s great grandfather had said once, followed by a very rude sounding word Domen, who was five at that time, could not understand. (He looked it up in a Slovenian dictionary years later and felt very much taken aback to say the least)

Domen was different from the rest of his family, and he knew from an early age on. Not at last because his parents told him every time, they got the opportunity to do so. Especially when he didn’t start to show any signs of accidental magic until the age of ten when he made Peter’s hair fall out at the Christmas dinner, because his parents had started to praise Peter and made Domen yet again feel horrible for being who he was and how he didn’t have enough magic in him to ever get his Hogwarts letter.

A few months later he got the letter and tomorrow Domen would finally go to Hogwarts with his brothers. Tomorrow was the day he had been looking forward to all his life, yet Domen couldn’t sleep. Tough he was excited to finally learn more about his magic and how to use it, he was scared to not live up to his parent’s expectations. Scared of bringing even more dishonour to the family. It was his chance to make things right, he knew that because his mother had mentioned it often enough. But he wasn’t sure he could, if he actually wanted to.

“Did you fear not being sorted into Slytherin?”, Domen had asked Cene, who had just shrugged.

“Not really. When I sat up there, the hat on my head, I was so sure I was going to be sorted into Slytherin. The sorting hat told me, that Ravenclaw would seem a better fit to him. But he ended up putting me into Slytherin anyway, because after all it was my wish. He takes them into consideration. You don’t have to worry”

Domen knew that Cene wanted to make him feel better, but he only made things worse. Domen didn’t want to be in Slytherin. He didn’t want to be anywhere near his oldest brother who was so stuck up and perfect. He didn’t want to be anywhere near those people who spread so much hatred and fear. He didn’t want to be one of them. Though he knew not all of them were like that. They couldn’t be! After all, Cene was one of them and he was the most kind and caring person Domen had ever met. However, Domen didn’t want to be there. He couldn’t tell why, not yet. In a few years he’d know. He’d know that his parents were in the wrong and that he had already sensed it back then. He’d know that all of their values were meaningless and against his own believes. But at that very moment Domen was nothing but scared out of his mind about how his parents would react if he wasn’t sorted into the right house.

Domen had managed to fall asleep eventually. He could remember both Peter and Cene telling him about their dreams they had the night before they went to Hogwarts for the first time. How they dreamt of the sorting ceremony and the feast. Of unfamiliar faces on the train. Domen didn’t have any of that. He didn’t dream at all, at least he couldn’t remember when he woke up. Rather was woken up. Their house elf, Jošt, had been sent into his room by his parents to wake him up and he did so by banging his hands against Domen’s nightstand. Needless to say, Domen didn’t appreciate it.

“Bloody hell Jošt, stop it!”

Jošt was wearing a dirty old bedsheet. Domen could make out a big pinkish flower where the fabric fell on Jošt’s shoulder. He was sure that ever since he was born Jošt had been wearing that very same bedsheet. The elf stared at him, an ever so grumpy look on his face.

“Master Prevc, your mother has sent me to tell you that you have missed breakfast and that you are leaving in half an hour”, just like Domen’s parents, the elf only spoke Slovenian. When his grandparents had moved to England, they had already brought him with them, therefore he was very old already and not at all fund of the thought of having to learn a new language, even though he had lived here for several decades. “She wishes you to get dressed and come downstairs. I will be taking care of your luggage for you, master”

“Hvala” While Jošt, just like the rest of his family, valued tradition and honoured their family’s name, he was a good soul. He cared about the kids a lot, especially about Nika and Ema, Domen sisters who both were a few years younger than him. He was a bit of a replacement for their grandfather, who had died the same year Nika was born. It was also Jošt who had sneaked up to Domen’s room when the young boy had been grounded and not allowed outside of his very own four walls. Who had played chess with him and sometimes brought along sweets from the kitchen.

They used floo powder to get to London. Domen’s parents were close friends with another Slovenian family, the Zajcs. Their son and Domen were the same age and best friends for as long as he could remember. They were both first years and Domen couldn’t wait to explore the castle with him the same way they had explored the grounds around the Prevc’ home. The moment he arrived in the salon of the Zajc family, he saw Timi’s face beaming at him in excitement.

“We’re going to Hogwarts, can you believe it?” The other boy took both of Domen’s hands in his own and dragged him out of the fire place, jumping a little in excitement. “It’s surreal”

For the first time in days Domen actually felt truly excited. Even if his family was going to disown him if he was sorted into the wrong house, at least he was going to have fun. To have the time of his life. He would make new friends. He squeezed Timi’s hands a little and he felt how Timi’s genuine happiness started to infect every inch of his body. If everything was going wrong, he would still have Timi by his side.

“I can’t wait!” Domen looked into Timi’s face. He had always thought that Timi had very fascinating eyes and right now it looked as if there were actual stars locked in them. Only when his father pulled him away and to his side, he had realised that he had stared.

“My youngest son is going to Hogwarts now, I cannot believe it!” He laughed a deep laugh that was very typical of him. Domen didn’t like it, because he knew it to be fake. His father never laughed at home, he only did when others were around, especially not when it was about Domen. His parents were champions at hiding to other how they really felt about him, how much of a disgrace he was. He knew for a fact that Timi’s father wasn’t any different.

“They’re growing up so fast” Timi’s mother sighed as she cupped Domen’s face with her hands. She was a beautiful young lady who looked way too young next to her husband. Domen liked her a lot, because she always brought him and Timi biscuits when Domen was staying over. She seemed genuinely nice and he knew that she was a Hufflepuff back when she was at Hogwarts. She cared a lot about her son, and she cared a lot about Domen as well. Domen secretly wished that she would be his mother as well.

Mrs. Zajc brushed a strand of hair out of Domen’s forehead before she let go of him again. In the corner of his eye he could see his own mother giving her the same glance she gave him and his siblings when they did something she didn’t approve of.

“We have to get going”, Timi’s father exclaimed, looking slightly uncomfortable. Domen once overheard Cene and Peter talking about how their parents and Timi’s parents only were friends because they both were dark and ancient Slovenian pureblood families with a similar political view – though the Zajc family was less radical – and not because they actually enjoyed each other’s company.

On the way to Kings Cross Domen didn’t talk a lot, unlike Timi who didn’t shut up for a single second about how excited and thrilled he was to finally go to Hogwarts. Halfway to the train station Domen had managed to block out the other boy’s voice and was again thinking about what was to happen if he wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. What was to happen if he didn’t live up to his parents’ expectations and, lord beware, wouldn’t be allowed back home and thrown out by them. Maybe Timi’s parents would give him shelter – though Domen wasn’t sure if Mr. Zajc would approve of him not being in Slytherin either.

Domen got pulled out of his thoughts when he bumped into his younger sister Nika, who had challenged herself by trying not to step onto the gaps between the stones on the ground. Peter managed got a hold of them both so that they wouldn’t fall to the ground.

“Watch your steps”, he snapped at Domen. The younger boy rolled his eyes.

Domen wanted to say something mean, but he didn’t dare. Peter took Nika’s hand in his own and they kept on walking. Domen stared at the back of Peter’s head, hoping it would explode if he just stared long enough.

“Don’t mind him” Timi had put his hand on Domen’s back and gave him an encouraging smile.

“That’s easier said than done”

“I know, I’ve spent enough time with him”

Domen sighed as they entered the station. They went to get carts for their trunks and moved to the platforms 9 and 10. It was the fourth time now for Domen to get onto platform 9¾ but he still couldn’t remember which wall they had to run into. Peter led their group and without any signs of distress he walked into one of the brick walls, head held high.

Cene followed, with a much higher pace. Domen looked at Timi who was slightly nervous. He winked at him before he started to run towards the wall. Though it wasn’t his first time he was scared that the wall suddenly decided to not let him through and he were to crash into it. But instead of crashing, he went through and straight onto platform 9¾.

Domen loved to see the colourful, traditional robes mixed with suits and muggle clothing. He loved the sound of cheerful voices that laid like a blanket over them.

“Mum, I’ll write to you, I promise!” Timi looked rather annoyed by his mother who was trying to fix the collar of her son’s shirt.

“Don’t forget to write me about… You-know-what”, she mumbled. Domen knew they were talking about her because Cene had told him a week ago, that their mother had requested a weekly report about Domen’s behaviour and that his two brothers should take care of him if he didn’t bring honour to their family. Cene had reassured him that he would never in a million years consider actually doing so. He looked accordingly annoyed when their mother brought up the topic again. Peter in the meantime nodded and reassured her that she wouldn’t have to worry and that he’d be taking care of the issue. Domen hated him for calling him that.

After hugging his brother, his mother also pulled Domen into a tight hug. It felt awkward because they never did that.

“I will miss you so much my baby”, she cried out, in English and for everyone to hear, just to make sure they knew how perfect of a family they were, before she whispered “Behave or you will be disowned faster than you can imagine” Then she let go of him. Their father only nodded at them.

The three boys said goodbye to their sisters, before they got onto the train and parted ways.

On the train Timi and Domen went to look for a compartment. They were some of the last ones to get on the train and therefore they had quite some trouble finding that had space for two more students and where the people sitting in the compartment didn’t scare the two boys too much. The train had long left Kings Cross before the two of them found a place to sit. Towards the other end of the train, three boys sat in a compartment, happily chatting with each other. Timi opened the door and stuck his head in.

“Do you still have room for two?”, he asked and the boys started talking and looked at the both of them.

“Sure, take a seat”, one of the two Asian boys with a wide grin. The boy next to him, who too looked Asian, just nodded. The third guy, who very much didn’t look Asian, removed a small, weird looking, square with some weird wires coming out of it from the seat next to him.

Timi and Domen went to sit next to him.

“I’m Naoki Nakamura”, who has been speaking earlier said as he reached out for their hands.

“Timi Zajc”, said Timi as he shook his hand.

“Domen Prevc”, said Domen. Naoki nodded.

“You are purebloods, right?” While Timi nodded a bit too enthusiastically, Domen felt a bit weird. He didn’t want the first conversation they had be about blood purity.

“And you two are?”, Domen asked the other two boys, not wanting to continue with the topic.

“Vojtěch Štursa”, the boy next to Timi answered. He smiled at them.

“Ryoyu Kobayashi”, the third boy said. He too smiled at them, but it seemed less enthusiastic as the other two’s.

“Are you first years as well?”, Naoki now spoke again. Domen sensed him a very sociable guy already and he kind of liked that.

“Yes” Timi nodded enthusiastically. He was about to continue the conversation when they were interrupted by a knock on the compartment door.

“Anything off the trolly dears?” An old lady stuck her head in through the door, smiling at them with a warm smile. Behind her, Domen could make out a trolly filled with treats. Chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, sugar quills – everything a children’s heart desired.

“Yes please”, he answered, together with Timi, Naoki and Vojtech.

They took something from everything and split it evenly between them. Only Ryoyu had kept quiet and didn’t take anything. He was staring suspiciously at Vojtech who was trying to eat his chocolate frog.

He leaned towards Naoki and asked him something in a forgein language Domen didn’t understand. Naoki answered in the same language. Domen could only guess that he was guiding him through the different sweets in front of him, given that Naoki was using the same names they used in English when referring to the products.

“Do you have different kind of sweets in… Where were you from?”

“Japan”, Naoki again smiled at him. “And yes they are quite different there… More fancy actually, but you have to know that Ryoyu is a muggleborn and not used to his sweets jumping around and making frog noises”

Domen laughed a little. Timi only forced himself to smile. Out of the two of them, Domen had always found it easier to talk about muggles and muggleborn wizard without insulting them at every given opportunity. It had also been Domen who had made friends with several muggle children who lived close to their mansion, and had then been given hell by his parents for it.

“Don’t say anything rude now”, Domen switched to Slovenian so that the other wouldn’t understand what was going on. He had felt Timi stiffen next to him and he definitely didn’t want him to make a scene now.

“Try” He held out the last chocolate frog box for Ryoyu to take it. Ryoyu bowed slightly while carefully taking both of his hands to take the box.

“Thank you” He placed the box on his slap before pulling out a small box himself. He held it out to Domen, again with both of his hands and bowing slightly. Domen hesitated for a moment, before he tried to copy the others movements from before.

“Thank you”

Domen opened the box and spotted three little, white balls. He looked up again, a questioning look on his face.

“Mochi. Is very good. Please try.”

Domen nodded and picked up one of the balls and tried it. For a moment he thought he didn’t like it, but the longer he had it in his mouth, the more he started to actually like what he was eating.

“It is really good. Thank you” He nodded at him.

“Now try the chocolate frog!”

Ryoyu nodded as well before he very carefully opened the box. Faster than the boys could react the frog had jumped onto the window. Vojtech managed to catch him before it actually jumped out of it.

“It can’t jump anymore. You can eat it now”

Ryoyu still didn’t seem to really trust the concept. He brought the frog up to his mouth and closed his eyes before he bit off the head. He chewed on it, his whole face in wrinkles. He started to slowly relax his face and his lips grew into a smile as he opened his eyes again.

“Good” The other boys laughed, even Timi had started to ignore the fact that this boy in front of them was everything they had been brought up to hate.

“What card did you get?” Vojtech asked, visibly thrilled to learn which witch or wizard he had gotten.

Ryoyu fingered the card out of the box and looked at it for a second, before he turned it around for them to see. On the card was a portrait of a young witch with long and curly brown hair.

“Hermione Granger”

Through the remaining time on the train, the five boys kept chatting about everything an nothing. Vojtech was a halfblood from Czechia and his parents had moved to London because his father had been given a job at the ministry as the Czech ambassador. Both Ryoyu and Naoki’s families came from the same Japanese island, Hokkaido. Ryoyu’s family had only moved to England last winter and it was a bit of a shock for them when the letter had arrived. Though Ryoyu was a fast learner, his English wasn’t yet good enough to keep up with them throughout the whole conversation and Naoki had to play the translator a few times. But overall, the four of them got along quite nicely. Internally, Domen was praying that they could become friends.

#ski jumping #ski jumping fic #my work #my fic #hogwarts au #year one

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travosti · 4 years

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Hi! I think I remember reading that you were reconnecting to your Mapuche roots. Are you reconnecting as a (recently) disconnected native, or as a mestice? Not trying to be intrusive—asking as an emigrant Latino that has no one to relate to.

A little bit of both?

My maternal grandparents were forced to unlearn their culture at a very young age (my grandfather is afro-andean and grandmother is mapuche) and were both orphans and adopted by non-native people then they can be taken to the capital of Santiago so they “be included to society”. My grandmother still remembers some things about her culture, as she was adopted a little bit older while my grandfather has no memory at all. Today is actually a Mapuche holiday (We Tripantu) that my grandmother would mention she’d celebrate with her community much younger dancing, bathing in the river at night, and sharing food with others like ají de cochayuyo, guiso de mote etc. She later stopped doing that because it was uncommon with the family she was with (that treated her like a nanny and never an actual daughter). After the the years my grandparents met and they both had similar stories, except grandfather was from the North of Chile and my grandmother from the South. They met in the Stgo. Sadly they forgot about their traditions but raised both of their children (my mom and uncle) always telling them to reconnect to their roots (they never did) and as another generation passed, my grandparents thought the little fire would die out. My grandmother when I was younger would always tell me to be proud of my Indigenous ancestors, of her, my mother and me. For my ancestors were weichafes (warriors) to keep their family still alive with it’s tradition and culture. When we moved to the USA my mother always felt awkward when it was time to put her race/ethnicity on her taxes because they had the Native American option but not Indigenous which made no sense to us because we were never Americans in the first place OR Latinxs, so she’d put native american latinx since we aren’t north american natives, same goes with her brother. Coming back to growing up, my grandparents, especially my grandmother, would remind us to be proud of where we come from, to one day hopefully one of us we’d reconnect. Growing up in the USA I despised being a poc, in this case, indigenous, because they’d think that I was an indigenous person from North America, which I’m not. So they never took me or my families identity serious and just slapped the latinx label on us.

Now for my father, I barely know anything about his family. I don’t speak to him, he doesn’t speak to him, but he’s definitely Mestizo. My paternal grandparents didn’t want anything to do with us so I don’t know any information about them, but my grandmother was very white passing while my grandfather wasn’t. My dad, being married to an Indigenous woman, has still been super racist to other Indigenous people and it sickens me, which is why I rarely ID with his part of the family despite having his last name and still living with him.

In 2019 I actually sat down and started investigating more about my mothers side and know more about my grandmother’s community. With my grandmother’s guidance, I was helped a lot with her information. Unluckily, my grandfather cannot provide much, since he was adopted very very young. I too want to reconnect with his roots at some point, learn and observe but I don’t think I can ever join in something unless I’m personally invited by someone else in the Andean community. Same goes with being Mapuche. I’ve just observed an learned with as much respect as I can give. I followed so many Mapuche activists and I feel so happy and connected with all of this. My grandmother has even bought me kultrun earrings and a little pendant (that I sadly lost). I feel like I was given it because I earned it and it felt so amazing having something be gifted by her. An ex who is also Mapuche gifted me thse kultrün earrings made of copper and it made me so genuinely happy. My grandmother wants to gift me chaway earrings but I’m. hmmmmmmm because mostly theyre used by women and I’m not a woman. Right now I try my best to learn the language and give myself patience as reconnectin with something that was almost forgotten forever is hard. I remember reading one post made by another Indigenous person who’s family story was similar to mine, they said, “Reconnecting and reclaiming your Indigenous ancestry is an act of revolution but it must always be done with respect”.

I do acknowledge I have privileges that not all of my community has. Like for instance to this day, a lot of Mapuche people in Wallmapu are forced to leave their homes so big companies can take their land and profit off of them. They fight day to day and have that struggle that I don’t. It sickens me that this type of injustice happens even after 500 years. They haven’t stopped fighting. Just a few weeks ago, a man was murdered for proctecing his land, also Mapuche. He was from Collipulli, where my grandmother was born and it hurt. It hurts that probably the other siblings she never met that stayed that probably have met their demise or still are going through all of this just to live. I don’t have to worry about that and neither does my family.

If you ever need help in anything, I can recommend some great Indigenous activists if you want and if you took the time to actually read all this, thank you

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theoi-crow · 5 years

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Can I ask about your religion? I’m catholic but I’m feeling so drawn to Hellenic Paganism but I’m so scared. I don’t want to believe it because I don’t want to go to hell. But I feel something for Hellenism and I’m just confused. I’ve felt something reading about it. It’s so scary to me b/c I do believe in Catholicism. I don’t know what to do with these feelings tho.

Hi! I apologise in advance for how long this answer was but I wanted to be as specific as possible.

You are more than welcomed to ask me about my religion.

This ask was a little hard to answer because I believe in the freedom of allowing anyone to worship whatever faith they want to believe in, but because you are asking me about my religion, I'm assuming you're asking me about what led to me leaving Catholicism for that religion as well.

Before I continue I just want to say that I respect your decision to stay in Catholicism because although it wasn't kind to me due to it's rigid structure and politics, it is a religion others find comfort in, and I would never dream of bashing what others believe in.

Having said that, I would like to talk about what led me to my spiritual divorce from Catholicism when I was once also confused and afraid about the idea of "going to hell."

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My childhood:

I grew up in a very poor neighborhood during a time when gang wars, kidnappings and homicides were so rampant that my 5 year old self wondered if I would ever live to see 10. That's when I met my "imaginary friend."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Your ancestors know me as Mars." He replied. My real last name is Roman and it literally translates to "Child of Mars." It has been in my family for so many generations but I didn't make the connection until I got older.

He introduced himself as just a Roman soldier although his uniform looked nothing like the ones my church showed when they did re-enactments.

He taught me how to fight, defend myself, be cautious, assess my surroundings, how to work around a panic attack and basically taught me how to survive.

Back then we didn't have smartphones and the internet wasn't as informative as it is now so I was sheltered from anything that wasn't Catholic, including Ancient Greek things so I wasn't able to identify him which is funny because "Mars" had a very Spartan looking outfit rather than a Roman one. I would often ask about it. "I like it better" was always his reply. I would often introduce him as "my weird looking Roman friend, Mars." I didn't know about the Roman gods Mars, Jupiter, Venus, etc. I just thought he was really into the planet Mars for some reason.

My Catholic upbringing was so sheltered, I was sure I was going to end up being a nun because of how much I studied it and how little I knew about the political history surrounding it.

I was fascinated by Satan and always wondered about the appropriatness of his punishment, for example, if he likes bad things and bad things are in hell, wouldn't he be surrounded by the things he likes? If god punished the wicked by sending them to hell in order to be punished by Satan, wasn't Satan helping god punish the wicked? Or the idea that Mary was not a goddess but was venerated like one.

It never made any sense to me until I started going to school and became friends with people who practiced Buddhism and Hinduism. They told me about reincarnation, an idea which made a lot more sense to me.

The more they told me about their religions, their multiple gods and female gods, the more they made sense to me, so I started researching other religions and bumped into Wicca. (I'm not wiccan but it was the only thing I could find at the time, in the 90s, about female empowerment (because I was tired of the sexism laced in the Bible) in a religious setting without me encroaching in Buddhism and Hinduism)

Wicca made me realize my friend Mars was actually Ares, god of war. The book was so nasty (and I will later learn, very inaccurate) about Ares that he and I ended up having a falling out. I was afraid and wondered if I was going to hell but then I said to myself "it'll only be temporary because then I'll be reincarnated." Reincarnation had officially become part of my personal philosophy.

There was a section in Wicca that talked about religion. It talked about various religions and the history of how Christianity demonized them. So I started reading as much as I could about the history of Christianity and Catholicism outside of the Wicca books that mentioned them. The more I learned about the political structure of Catholicism, the more I could see the gods sprinkled in the religion.

For example: Jesus and Osiris: both born December 25th, both born to Virgins, A star led 3 wise men to both (for Jesus it was the North Star, for Osiris it was the Eastern Star), Both taken to Egypt to escape the wrath of (for Jesus: Herod, for Osiris: Typhon), both taught in a temple as a child, both baptized at 30, both had twelve disciples, both could perform miracles, both walked on water, both raised someone from the dead (Jesus: Lazarus, Osiris: El-Azur-us) both were crucified, buried in a tomb, both were dead for 3 days and both resurrected, both had titles like "The Messiah", "the good shephard", "lamb of god", etc.

Jesus and Dionysus: Both wandered around, both could turn water into wine, both had legions of followers, both were persecuted, both claimed to be the son of God, both called holy child and if you want to get technical with Dionysus being born from a virgin because Jesus being the true son of God implies Mary was with God but technically a virgin because she had never been with an actual human man. By this technicality, Dionysus' mother Semele was also a virgin since she had never been with a human man.

Here's a couple more for Jesus:

Then you have the Christian holidays with Pagan roots and history: (LINK)

Example: Easter has bunnies and eggs because they are the symbols that represent fertility, which was used by the pagans to celebrate the Assyrian and Babalonian goddess Ishtar (pronunciation sounds a lot like Easter). This is why even though in Catholicism Easter is for the resurrection of Christ, there are eggs and bunnies which never made sense to me until I learn about Ishtar.

The reason why there are so many pagan symbols is because Catholicism didn't start until 300-400 years AFTER the death of Jesus. The Roman empire decided it was going to be Christian and in the process it forced the other countries it ruled over to be Christian as well. But because Pagans love their gods, they had to figure out how to sway them so they looked at their gods and holidays and appropriated them.

Because there were other Romans who still loved their gods and wanted to keep them despite the emperor, they created angels saints with ambiguous backgrounds but could do a lot of things that gods could do and we're used as avatars for their gods like Hermes being the messenger of Zeus (the god of gods) and Gabriel being the messenger of God.

The idea of a one true god is also a political tactic that uses fear which works because the human brain has evolved to respond better to fear thanks to evolution. In the beginning, Catholicism acknowledged other religions but claimed their god was the best one, hence when the Bible or prayer says "You will worship no other gods before me" which I always thought was a weird thing the Bible had because how could one worship other gods when there was only one god?

The idea of there only being a "one true god" came during the dark ages where people would accuse each other of being witches and working with the devil. Here is when Christianity started equating pagan gods with demons and devils.

The dark ages and persecutions were SO BRUTAL that fear became a thing synonymous with Catholicism thanks to the Spanish Inquisition that would randomly show up to make sure people were "properly" following the word of the Pope and not worshipping pagan gods now dubbed demons. This is where the idea of "going to hell" came from.

I also didn't like that the Catholic Church would automatically forgive the rich that would give them money and basically buy their way into heaven which was an actual rule and the reason why Martin Luther created the Protestant section of Christianity.

As for wether or not the gods are real, I will only say that for me, they are and possibly for these ex-non-believers who had very specific signs happen to them: PLEASE READ THE NOTES: (LINK)

But changing faiths can get messy because you have to unlearn what you've been taught your whole life. That is layers and layers of it being part of your subconscious and fear is something that was used because there was a lot of bloodshed that came with the politics of the christianization of Europe and the Americas.

If you are interested in Hellenic paganism, nothing is going to happen as far as going to hell goes, but there will be times where your anxiety will flare up. I suggest you learn as much as you can about the history Christianity, Catholicism and the witch trials of Europe in comparison with paganism.

Hell is a human concept evolved from fear tactics and mass hysteria.

The more you learn about Catholicism, the more you'll see that history has shaped it, paganism has shaped it and as long as you do the best to be the best version of yourself you'll be okay.

If it makes you feel better, you can continue to work with Jesus/Mary/Saints and Angels outside the Catholic system. I do it all the time, especially when I want them to take care of my parents who are hardcore Catholics. I celebrate day of the Dead and do Catholic prayers for my grandparents who were also super Catholics when they were alive.

Spirituallity and Religion are a lot more complex than we humans will ever understand.

I hope this helps.

May your heart connect with those who want to help you make a sounds decision about where you plan to take your spiritual journey.

#rosegoldtunic asks

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sweetteaanddragons · 5 years

Text

Ancient History

Bruthir glared down at one of the small cakes his landlady had made in honor of the occasion and tried to ignore the sounds of jubilation in the street outside the alley he was sulking in. It was harder than it had been for the past few hours; the noise had swelled, first with music that had very nearly lulled him out, then with shouting once the music ended. A few people had run into his alley, looking around wildly, but they had left quickly enough when they had seen that there was nothing more interesting than him sitting on his barrel, glaring at his last cake. His curiosity had nearly provoked him into asking who or what they were looking for, but that would have required ending his sulk, and he still had several hours left in which to do that. That had been his deal with himself: today he could sulk, and tomorrow he would have to get back to work.

Not even today, though, could he ignore the cloaked man who came running into the alley via an even narrower one. The man’s face was shadowed, but his head turned frantically, and it froze in place when Bruthir came into its view.

“Don’t mind me,” he called glumly. “Unless you’re planning to set the whole city ablaze, I don’t much care what you’re running from.”

The figure relaxed and moved closer. “Nothing so bad as all that,” he said a bit hoarsely, and Bruthir got a glimpse of a harp under his cloak. “Merely a disappointed audience.” He hesitated. “And in the interest of complete honesty, possibly the city guard if they’ve decided I disturbed the peace.”

Bruthir was almost certain he was missing something, but he was even more certain he didn’t care. “Pull up a barrel then.” Sulking had started to feel a bit lonely, so when the man lingered in the shadows of the other alley, he lifted up his cake enticingly. “I’ll share my cake.”

The stranger laughed. “It has indeed been a very long time since I’ve had any cake. Thank you, I accept.”

Bruthir tore it in half and handed it over. “If only it was for another occasion.”

The stranger paused, and there was not so much an air of hesitance this time as tension. Bruthir gulped and resisted the urge to lean back.

“You don’t approve of the king’s marriage?”

The stranger’s hood had shifted, and Bruthir managed to catch a quick glimpse of sharp, gaunt features and the beginning of a pointed ear. In a moment it was gone, but it had been enough. Bruthir might be more accustomed to them in books than life, but he knew an elf when he saw one. This must be one of the ones that had come for Lady Arwen and the marriage, though he couldn’t imagine what the elf was doing this far from the main event. Regardless, the last thing he wanted was for this elf to carry back tales of discontent to the new royal couple.

“The king’s marriage is fine,” he said hastily. “He’s every right to marry whoever he likes, and I’m sure the Lady Arwen is an excellent choice.”

The elf was still regarding him silently. Apparently an explanation of his sullenness would be required.

He sighed. “It’s just made my thesis very awkward, that’s all. I’m probably going to have to start all over if I’m to have any hope of it being approved.”

“Your - thesis,” the elf said disbelievingly, but he had at least relaxed enough to take a bite of the cake.

“I want to be a scholar in the citadel,” he explained. “I’ve been studying for years. All that’s left is the thesis which has to be approved by my elders and - if it meets their approval - either the steward or the king. That last step is more of a formality than anything else really, everyone I’ve talked to has said that Denethor certainly never did more than give them a cursory glance, but at the very least they’ll surely read the title.”

“And the title is not complimentary towards elves?” the stranger asked. He seemed more amused than offended, thankfully.

“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s just . . . complicated.”

The elf took a seat on a nearby barrel and leaned back against the stone wall behind him. “Tell me about it,” he suggested. “Maybe I can help.”

Well, why not? Maybe he could. At the very least, he needed to get out one good rant.

“There’s been a lot written on the changing view of the elves in Numenor,” he began. “Quite naturally, as that view was generally tied to that of the Valar and thus was tied with the fall, a subject that continues to preoccupy many. I decided to focus on a more specific group of elves: those involved in the myths surrounding Sirion.”

The elf let out a strangled noise. “Myths?”

“Well, we know it was real, but exactly what happened has become rather obscured by time . . . “ His voice trailed off. “Although not for the elves, I suppose,” he said with fresh interest. “Did you know anyone who was there?”

“Yes,” the elf said shortly. Bruthir briefly wrestled with whether or not to pry before remembering that his thesis was useless now anyway and slumping down again.

“Elwing and Earendil held a special place as King Elros Tar-Minyatur’s parents, of course, but the Feanorians were also a subject of considerable fascination to the Numenoreans. By the end, all elves were scorned by all but the Faithful, and the Faithful had become a little uncomfortable with both groups since both had defied the Valar.”

“The Feanorians I can hardly argue, but surely Elwing and Earendil - ?”

“But they sailed,” Bruthir said, shaking his head. “And with both of them half-mortal too! It worked out for them in the end - or so we think, there’s some interesting subversive readings about exactly how literally we should take Earendil being a star - but they still sailed to the Undying Lands, the very thing the King’s Men wished to do. You can see why the Faithful didn’t wish to promote that tale.”

“I suppose so.”

“For those very reasons, in the transition period when the King’s Men didn’t take quite such a hard stance against elves, the Feanorians and the half-elven were treated as honorable exceptions for their defiance and, in the latter case, for their connection to mortality and their kinship with the first king. Later in that period, Earendil and Elwing were considered to have sold out to the Valar while the Feanorians lingered on as a symbol of defiance and the right to sail where people willed whether the Valar willed or no - Are you alright?”

The elf’s hooded head had fallen into his hands. “I’m fine,” he said, sounding rather muffled. “Keep going.”

“If you’re sure,” he said doubtfully. “Further back, there’s a much less complicated veneration of Earendil and Elwing and the Feanorians were less prominent except for those engaged in studies of history or who enjoyed the occasional tragedy at the theater.”

“Theater?” The elf asked, his voice a mix of interest and dread.

“We have a few surviving fragments,” Bruthir said, “though of course so much was lost that it’s hard to be sure of conclusions. We could be missing something critical. Which is what made the final section of my thesis so risky.” He ate a bite of cake despondently. “I was tracing it all backwards, you see, so the final section was on what King Elros himself thought.”

The elf’s head shot up so quickly his hood fell off. He really was quite gaunt. Dangerously so. He hadn’t thought elves suffered from scarcity. “And what did you conclude?”

“Well, that’s the interesting thing,” he said, getting caught up despite himself and leaning forward. “There’s almost nothing. Granted, it could have just been lost, but those early records were among those texts prioritized for salvation. We have plenty of scraps about the war, and those mention all of them, but in the praise poems and genealogies . . . You’ll find some things about Gondolin, but very little about Doriath, and even less about anyone at all involved in Sirion. The one scrap we thought we did have is a letter where his daughter comments to a friend that a bard had sung of her grandparents and the Feanorians, and that the king had been ‘very much displeased, and not nearly so diplomatic as usual about it.’ Which is interesting, but hardly conclusive. Were they too flattering to parents he resented? Not flattering enough to parents he idolized? Too prone to glorifying his kidnappers? Too prone to vilifying the men who must have played a large part in his raising? Was it too accurate and raised up bad memories? Or was it all wrong and offensive for it?” He took a deep breath. “You see the problem.”

The other man slumped. “I do.”

“Then I made my discovery. Apparently, he was a bit of a musician himself, and on the back of a rather more historically significant document, I found what I’m almost sure are quickly sketched drafts of his own attempt to memorialize the events. He seemed very . . . frustrated. With both his failed attempts and with everyone involved in the actual event. But he also seemed very wistful. Fond, even.” He sighed. “So that was my conclusion. But while it’s one thing to present such a thing to a steward, and even an acceptable thing to present such a thing to the king about his far distant ancestor, it’s quite another to hand it off for review when it’s talking about the queen’s uncle. And her grandparents, for that matter.”

The elf swallowed hard. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Quite. She never met any of them, but I’m sure her father has told her much.” He looked away for a moment, and when he turned back, his face was more cheerful. “Perhaps if you dropped the parts about the far more controversial Feanorians and concentrated on her grandparents that would be better? You could add in something flattering about how they’re thought of now.”

“I’m not much good at flattery,” he said doubtfully, but hope was rising in him regardless. Perhaps not all his research would have to be thrown out.

“Turn it in as is,” another voice recommended. “I, for one, am very interested in reading it.”

Both of them spun to see that another elf had slipped in through of the mouth of the alley while they were distracted. Some strong emotion lurked almost hidden on his face. His splendid clothes opened Bruthir’s eyes to just how ragged his first companion’s were.

Said companion had gone very pale. “Elrond.” He dropped off his barrel and began to back away.

Elrond? Not - Surely not the Elrond that was the queen’s father -

“Don’t,” Elrond pleaded, reaching out a hand. “Please don’t run, Maglor. Not today of all days.”

Maglor. Not -

Did you know someone at Sirion?

He had not asked that question of Maglor Feanorian. That was impossible. He was dead. Or wandering lost somewhere that wasn’t Gondor’s back alleyways.

But surely no one else would have chosen that name for their son?

Maglor, son of someone who was not Feanor, slumped and held up his hands in defeat. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” he said. “I am - very sorry to have disturbed you today. So very sorry. I only wanted to give a gift of song, even if your daughter wouldn’t hear it. I hadn’t realized I would draw such a crowd as to cause a disturbance, out of practice with performance as I am.”

Elrond was the first elf Bruthir had ever seen look exasperated. It was a very human expression on him. “Maglor, you remain the greatest bard the Noldor have ever produced. Of course you drew a crowd. A crowd that is now very disappointed at how you vanished when the city guard got lured in to listening, mind you.”

The greatest bard the Noldor had ever produced.

So this was Maglor Feanorian.

He had just ranted to Maglor Feanorain about his place in the Numenorean imagination. Historical ecstasy hit self-preserving nausea and roiled unpleasantly.

“Someone mentioned the incident to Faramir. I was lucky enough to overhear,” Elrond continued. “And when I heard that a ragged elf had enchanted half the city with songs for the wedding . . . Well, it was either you or Daeron, and I liked my chances.”

Maglor’s head fell. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I should have realized my good intentions would still turn to the ill.”

“The ill?” Elrond laughed, and Bruthir abruptly realized that the hidden emotion was joy. “Today I have had to give away one family member to another, but I’ve found another at long last. Surely a small disturbance, already calmed, is worth that!” He stepped forward, and Bruthir half-expected Maglor to bolt, but he looked up with cautious hope instead.

“Elrond - “

Elrond was close enough to touch now. He held out a hand in entreaty. “Come back to the celebration with me,” he said. “Please. Arwen would surely like to hear your songs for herself, and Aragorn too. There’s no one here who will cause any trouble over it.”

Maglor hesitated.

It seemed another push might be needed. Presumably that was why his mouth opened and said, without quite obtaining his consent, “You might as well go. I’m sure they’ll have better cake.”

That actually startled a laugh out of the Feanorian. “If you wish it then, Elrond,” he said quietly, clasping the outstretched hand.

Elrond’s answering smile was brilliant, and it turned grateful when he looked over to Bruthir. “You must come too, of course,” he said. “I really am quite interested in your research.”

Why not, Bruthir though blankly, his day had certainly been strange enough for it.

It would certainly be more interesting than sulking.

#maglor #elrond #oc #gondor #fourth age #numenor #reunion #accidentally talking about legends to their faces #fic #tolkien #silmarillion #lotr #lord of the rings

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catflowerqueen · 4 years

Note

Number 2 of your prompts, please!

I’ll assume that this was in response to the first set. If it wasn’t, just let me know and I can talk about #2 from the second set in another post.

2. Grovyle’s new family situation

This one is probably one of the more subject to change, since I’m still figuring out the logistics of things, and one that is going to require a fair amount of build-up.

One of the biggest issues facing the denizens of the changed future is the fact that what essentially happened is that the new reality and the old, alternate reality got smashed together and aren’t quite clicking the way they should. Dialga managed to do a lot in terms of physical rebuilding and fixing things, but due to the nature of the event and the fact that the “higher power/tier” that he alluded to during the special episode had never done something like this before and only really had a basic idea of how to actually accomplish what they were trying to, he couldn’t get everything. So part of what Grovyle and the others do as part of the New Planetary Investigation Squad is to go and… well, investigate, and help out where they can.

But as I said, that is just the physical aspect. And only a part of it.

Something that will eventually get brought up in story (hopefully) is how powerful Relatia really is, and the way she utilizes those powers. A large part of what she does is simply to make sure that time and space are flowing smoothly with no unresolved paradoxes or issues, which is something that was briefly touched upon in the epilogue, and sometimes this necessitates going back through time. As one could imagine, and given the very premise of why Dusknoir was trying to stop Grovyle from changing the future, making big changes in the past can and will often have extremely detrimental consequences on the future if one doesn’t know what they are doing. This is also a big factor in why the celebi species has to be so careful about what they do, and why they are biologically drawn to spend most of their time on a linear path, in the time period they actually come from originally.

It is entirely possible, and, indeed, has actually happened, that Relatia must go into the past and alter the future somehow. Typically the changes are small and people do not really notice, outside of feelings of deja vu. Sometimes this results in her splitting timelines apart and isolating some in special spacial pockets that cannot be interacted with. But when she can’t do that and the changes are too large… you get a situation like what would have happened to the denizens of the dark future had the being Dialga alluded to not intervened. In a case like this, Relatia would do her best to keep everything as similar as possible–engineer situations which would still allow peoples’ ancestors to meet so that they could still be born, working with fellow Pantheon members to ensure natural disasters and whatnot happen when they should so that certain things happen, etc., but that doesn’t mean that she can preserve everything, which is… kind of the point, really, since the entire idea was to change things. But she makes sure that no one remembers the alternate path so that they won’t feel any pain about alternate events which can never happen now. Also so they don’t get confused by all the things that are now different.

Unless, of course, she decides to isolate people from the time stream while she makes the changes before dropping them back in. In which case they would remember everything that happened in the other timeline and, typically, also have memories of the new one they’ve been added into. Which can lead to some confusing situations at times, since it means that they would basically have double memories.

The thing is, Relatia generally only goes for this route when she gets so incensed at someone that she wants to punish them for something. She can get very, very wrathful at times, and if she wants to mess with the timeline and make it fray and break apart or take unnatural paths, she totally can. You were a ruler in the original timeline, who had everything you ever wanted at your fingertips? Too bad, Relatia is mad at you and now you are a penniless nobody with all the memories of things that you can now never have again because your situation has changed, and you’re the only one who knows it. Oh, and the love of your life who, tragically, died young in an accident? Well, they might be alive now because of the changed circumstances… but they now have no clue who you are, and your attempts to tell them the “truth” just make you come off as a crazy person. Oh, and somehow, in some unexplained way the children you had with the love of your life in the old timeline still exist, and, yes, those really are your kids, a DNA test could probably prove it, even though–again–you and the love of your life never met in this life… but they don’t know who you are either. You do have some vague memories now of donating your genetic material, however…

So you can see how something like this would be a devastating punishment.

But in a case like the Dark Future… would that still be the case? Yes, things would be a lot different than you remember… but wasn’t that the entire point of what the Planetary Investigation Team wanted to do? And you fully agreed to nonexistence in the hopes of fixing the problem, but now you get to live! And, sure, sometimes it gets a little confusing when you have memories both of growing up in a dark world and one filled with light… and the memories of the dark world often aren’t the nicest—in fact, some of them are downright cruel, and you were often a jerk, and yet… isn’t it good to have them both? They prove that you survived a terrible ordeal and still came out fine on the other side, and now you don’t have to be a jerk to survive any more. You can just… heal. And you aren’t alone in this either—everyone who was still alive at the time that the future was saved is in the exact same boat as you. And, hey, with all the skills you gained, you can totally help the ones around you who do not remember the ordeal you went through–because they were either dead at the time or circumstances made it so that they were never born in the first place—survive all these weird paradoxes and anomalies that have now cropped up. …As well as help them move the giant piles of rubble and crumbling buildings that Dialga couldn’t get to for whatever reason.

So that’s what essentially happened here—rather than everyone disappear into non-existence, those that were alive at the time of the future being saved were re-integrated into the new timeline in the same manner as how Relatia does it when exacting punishments. Of course, given how wonky that entire situation was, things get complicated when it comes to establishing ancestry. Some pokemon who got together in the dark future would not have in the fixed one, so not everyone would get doubled memories since they literally would not have existed in any form without the intervention. And some people are obviously going to have an easier time integrating those memories than others, not to mention that there a bunch of people who will only remember the fixed future, so there is definitely going to be an adjustment period for that, and some things/people might never get reconciled fully—luckily everyone pretty much knows what/why this all is happening, because the Partner (Paula) did as promised and spread the story around, so people are going to catch on pretty quick to what is going on when people start freaking out and shouting about how surprised they are to still be alive when seconds ago they were very calmly eating their lunch or whatever. (Don’t ask me exactly how many generations have passed. I don’t really know at this time, and am trying to be intentionally vague about it).

So then, getting back to your initial request… Grovyle’s problem is that he now has a living, biological family… that remembers nothing about the dark future, since his parents and grandparents both died when he was still a child—and an only child, at that. In this life his father is still dead—a tragic accident during a routine exploration/rescue mission years ago—but his mother had retired from that life so that she could raise him and his little sister—who did not exist in the dark future. This causes a lot of friction, since he now has trouble relating to them, and reconciling the mother he once had to the one he has now. Don’t get him wrong—he’s extremely grateful that they are alive, and that they exist, but… it’s hard, when the formative memories that resonate with him most strongly now are those from the dark future.

Luckily for him, according to his memories from the fixed future (which eventually catch up to him… probably the next day? Once the group on the Pinnacle descends and gets the chance to rest and re-group with the sableye gang) he had already more or less left home in order to follow in his father’s footsteps as… a member of the Planetary Investigation Team? Who work under Dialga? Huh. Well, okay then. So basically as far as that goes, he and the others just decide to continue on their way and just make the new base which I’ve already posted on my tumblr… uh… quite a while ago.

It was admittedly a shock for his family when they finally figured out that he wasn’t just a normal grovyle, but THE Grovyle from the famous Paula’s story, but they’re taking things in stride. And I’m still deciding whether or not one of his new-ish female family members is named Laura (for… reasons—which in this case are actually personal and related to the original Laura, and not just because of the way the name spiked in popularity after the story got told. Not that the spike was necessarily that large to begin with, mind you, given all the strange naming conventions that pokemon in this world can have—some do give their kids personal names, some just stick with species names).

The thing about the memories, though… for some reason there seems to be a strange omission when it comes to the fate of a certain human turned treecko… which does get resolved later, but for quite a while it is very unclear what actually happened to her, and most assume that she died at the time the future was saved. The whole situation is both sad and weird, and it will be quite a while before it gets cleared up to anyone in the future—Dialga included, oddly enough. Chalk another one up to the person performing this miracle being new to this and mostly winging it—a familiarization with the concept and minimal basics, if you will.

But it ends up not really being enough of a problem that Relatia will need to come and smooth things out once she finally regained access to the world, so at least there’s that.

And roughly a third of the issues probably come from other weird things that will happen in the past/present with Paula, Laura, and the others over the course of the World’s Treasure, so there’s that, too.

Wow, this ended up really long… why can’t it be this easy to write the essays that I have to do for school?

#the world's treasure #grovyle #spoilers #pokemon mystery dungeon #explorers of sky #wow this got long

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